My Pulse

Chapter 6: Quinn Keane

What the fuck was I going to do? Cian hadn't been bluffing, and I knew that deep in my bones. He would kill them and not think anything of it. It wouldn't even be a blip on his radar. I burst into my apartment in a panic but remembered I had guests. To my relief, they had already gone to bed.

It didn't take long before I started to cry as the warm water rushed over me in the shower. I let the tears come and swallow me because I knew I had to meet him tomorrow. With a pounding headache, I turned off the water, dried off, and tried to sleep. But no matter how hard I tried, I knew sleep wouldn't come. I reached for the bedside lamp and turned it on.

Then, I opened the bottom drawer of my bedside table and grabbed my emergency whiskey. I unscrewed the cap and took a big swig, letting it burn down my throat. After turning off the light, I leaned against my headboard, holding the bottle on my chest. "Well, fuck," I muttered, cursing the situation.

I guessed I might as well work on my article for Monday. That was something I could control. Pulling out my laptop, I opened my email, sitting cross-legged on the bed. I sucked in a breath and froze when my eyes caught the subject line: "About Tonight."

"I am not bluffing. See you tomorrow. Sleep well, my Mo Cuishle xx."

I was baffled. The nerve of him! Cian had sent me a fucking kiss! Pushing my laptop aside, I flung myself out of bed. I needed to tell Rory, but I remembered he had company. With my hand on his door, I shook my head and turned away. Instead, I headed to the fridge, grabbed a Guinness, and popped some popcorn. Well, it was settled then. I would meet Cian tomorrow. I didn't have any other options. Sitting on the couch, I swigged my Guinness and turned on *What Happens in Vegas*.

"Quinn, wake up," I heard Rory say as he jolted me awake.

"What?" I said, barely conscious. "Let me sleep." I didn't even remember passing out last night.

"I have to know what the hell was up with that guy last night," Rory pressed. His tone told me he wasn't going to let it go. "Was that the guy? The one who confronted you outside the Clover Café?"

"No!" I said a little too quickly, then tried to calm down.

"Who was he then?" Rory demanded.

"Who are you, my father now?" I snapped, staring up at him. I immediately felt guilty because he was only trying to protect me, just like I had asked him to. Rory gave me a hurt look, and I couldn't tell him the truth. Cian had made it clear—anyone could be a target.

"No, I met him at the bar a month ago with Jillian," I lied smoothly.

"Right..." Rory said, looking at me skeptically.

"Ask her yourself," I challenged.

"I probably will," he muttered. "I mean, you can take care of yourself, but he seemed like bad news, Quinn."

I looked at my best friend and said, "You're right. I can take care of myself. And I like him, Rory. Trust me, I'll let you know if I need help getting rid of him."

"Okay, just be careful, Quinn. Like I said, he seems dangerous," Rory said, clearly sensing my internal conflict.

"I will," I assured him.

He grinned and asked, "So what's for breakfast?"

I should have known that was why he woke me up, the little fucker. "Pancakes?" I suggested, and he nodded eagerly.

Over our pancakes, I decided to tell Rory about tonight. "He asked me to dinner."

Rory nearly choked on his food. "Where?"