Chapter 25

“POLICE! OPEN UP!” A loud voice came from the other side of Quinn’s apartment door, along with insistent pounding against the wood.

He quickly pushed up from his couch, where he’d been binge-watching shitty television shows all day, and rushed for the front door. “What the ever-loving fuck?”

The moment the door swung open, Quinn’s younger brother, Jimmy, stared back at him with a shit-eating grin on his face. He was actually in his NYPD uniform, but the laughter in his eyes told Quinn he wasn’t there on official business.

The two puppies cradled against his chest also seemed like an odd choice on the job.

“Scared you for a minute there, didn’t I?” Jimmy chuckled, marching right past Quinn with the puppies.

Quinn closed the door with a loud thud behind his brother. “What the hell are you doing, Jimmy? I thought the cops were about to bust down my door.”

“You got something here we’d be looking for?” Jimmy lifted one brow, his tone turning serious for half a second, before his expression dissolved into a mischievous smile again. “Just messing with you, Q.”

Quinn rolled his eyes, irritation shooting through him. “What the hell are you doing here anyway? And what’s with the dogs?”

“I think what you meant to say was ‘Hello, sweet baby brother, how lovely of you to stop by. My, those puppies are truly a wonder of nature and I just want to squish their little faces.’ ” Jimmy’s voice tried to mimic Quinn’s, but his impression wasn’t that great. “Jeez, so cranky, puppy hater.”

“I’m not a puppy hater.” Quinn exhaled in one loud huff, adding a sarcastic lilt to his tone. “But have it your way: Hello, idiot kid brother, how horrifying of you to stop by. Pass on the face-squishing offer. So, to what do I owe this travesty?”

Jimmy laughed. “How kind of you to ask.”

Quinn just grunted. He wasn’t in the mood for visitors—even family. Actually, maybe especially family. He didn’t want to explain where Kiera was or why he felt like his entire world was collapsing around him. He wanted to mope and be angry and eat shitty food and download a dating app to his phone only to delete it fifteen minutes later when he realized not a single woman on there would ever compare to the one he’d just sent out of his life.

“Well, first of all, I’ve never seen your place,” Jimmy started, apparently unfazed by Quinn’s open hostility. “Here, hold them.” Jimmy placed both puppies in Quinn’s arms.

“What?” Quinn balked, but when their squirmy, warm little bodies were curled in his arms, he couldn’t stop looking at them. One was white with a black circle around one eye, and the other dark brown with speckles of lighter brown across its coat. Both were skinnier than he thought they should be, and one had a runny nose, which made him sneeze tiny sprays of puppy snot all over Quinn’s chest. He sat on the couch and let them crawl all over him, petting them and keeping them from toppling onto the floor. “They are kind of cute,” he admitted, watching his brother walk to the kitchen, which was still in view of the couch. “But what are they doing here?”

“You tell me.” Jimmy walked over to the fridge, opening it and surveying its contents. “They were right outside the studio eating stuff off the ground around your trash can.”

“They were?” Quinn frowned, wondering how long the poor pups had been there. “Are they strays?”

Jimmy opened a can of soda and took a drink. “Looks like it. You should keep them, or at least find them some nice homes. I’m sure Rory can double-check at the clinic that they don’t have owners.”

“Why me? You’re the cop. Aren’t you supposed to save innocent victims?” Quinn pulled the white dog off the brown dog, since it looked like it was trying to hump its brother.

“I did save them—I gave them to you,” Jimmy replied, rummaging through the fridge again.

The white puppy jumped on top of the brown one again. “And why’s this one keep climbing on its brother?”

“Dogs are weird as shit, Q.” Jimmy pointed toward the white one currently trying to mount his brother. “I named that one J.D., the one on the bottom is Turk.”

Quinn laughed at the Scrubs reference.

Jimmy picked up the brown one and tucked him under his arm, heading toward for the kitchen. “By the way, I walked through your studio downstairs, and hoooooly shit. Quinn, you’re the real deal, man. I thought that last night when I saw how gorgeous your piece was—and how much it sold for—but damn, it just keeps getting better.”

“Thanks,” Quinn said, a little lighter than before, until he remembered he’d definitely locked the studio. “Wait, how did you even get in?”

Jimmy just shrugged like it was obvious. “Gotta think like a bad guy to catch the bad guys. I can pick any lock—try me.”

“Uh, pass.” Quinn had no doubt Jimmy knew a lot shadier shit than he actually wanted to know. The white puppy rolled over his knee in an attempt to catch its own tail.

“Your loss.” Jimmy pulled out a bag of deli meat and examined it, then fed a piece to the dog in his arm and brought a second piece over to the dog with Quinn. “The second reason I’m here is you missed Sunday dinner and didn’t answer your phone. So, obviously, Ma thinks you’re dead.”

“What? Why would she think I’m dead?” Quinn stood and brought the puppy into the kitchen. Both puppies were placed on the tile floor with several pieces of deli meat and a small bowl of water.

Jimmy laughed. “Because for what other reason would you miss her cooking?”

Quinn dropped down onto a stool at the kitchen island, watching his brother pull out the rest of the ingredients for a sandwich from Quinn’s fridge.

Jimmy kept searching through drawers and cabinets until he found everything he needed. Quinn didn’t bother to help him, since he hadn’t given him permission in the first place. “Don’t worry, I told Ma I’d do a welfare check first, but if I don’t call her in the next ten minutes, she’s sending the coroner. So, what’s the deal? What am I telling Ma?”

Quinn shrugged, watching the puppies dipping their paws into the water bowl and then falling in and shaking it off. “I’m just busy.”

Jimmy glanced up from making his sandwich, his eyes traveling around the room in search of something to explain Quinn’s “busy” excuse. Finally, he landed on the television and Quinn’s face immediately flushed as he realized what he would see. “Oh, sweet baby Jesus, are you watching the Real Housewives by yourself, Quinn? Oh, please, please tell me you’re watching the Real Housewives by yourself. I’m going to send out a mass email to the entire family and tell them that’s why you missed Sunday dinner. You don’t even have to get me a Christmas gift after that—this will be the best gift I’ve ever received.”

“Don’t you dare.” Quinn jumped up and grabbed for the remote, turning off the television. “It’s not me. Kiera recorded it.”

“KIERA?” Jimmy called out loudly, as if she’d reply from another room. “WE’VE GOT PUPPIES!”

“She’s not here,” Quinn said, his teeth gritting as he realized his excuse had just fallen flat. Okay, so he was watching a girlie television program. Nothing else was on, and it reminded him of their nights on the couch together. He was salting his wounds and he knew it, but come on, it had been barely a few hours.

He deserved the sulking time.

Jimmy’s brow lifted. “So, you are watching it without her.”

“You’re being a real ass right now, Jimmy.”

“We shouldn’t fight in front of the children.” Jimmy gave a few more pieces of deli meat to the puppies at his feet. “Don’t listen to your new daddy, little J.D. and Turk,” he cooed at the dogs.

“I am not their new daddy,” Quinn balked. Most days he could barely take care of himself. “Not even close.”

“The man who watches Real Housewives isn’t swayed by cute puppies? Shocking.” Jimmy smirked as he finished making his sandwich. Dropping it onto a plate, he moved to the stool next to Quinn. It took him a second to sit comfortably with his utility belt and gun around his waist, but he managed to figure it out and turn his attention back to Quinn. “All right, so what’s going on? The truth, Q.”

Quinn watched his brother eat, wondering how much he should tell him. There really was no point in hiding it. The entire neighborhood of Woodlawn, including his family, would know within the next day or two. That’s just how things worked around here.

Sighing, he resigned himself to his fate. “Kiera and I are over.”

Jimmy paused midbite. “What? When? You guys were so lovey-dovey at the show last night.”

“This morning. She was accepted into a really great fellowship program in Seattle starting in a month, so she’s moving back there.” Quinn felt his stomach turn at the thought, but pushed it away.

Jimmy’s eyes widened. “Oh, shit, are you moving to the West Coast?”

“No, of course not.” Quinn shook his head. “I’ve got Legends and the family. I’ve lived here my whole life—I’m needed here.”

His brother put down the sandwich, sighing. There was a darkness in Jimmy’s expression that Quinn had been seeing more and more often. He seemed tenser lately, and if Quinn wasn’t feeling so overwhelmed with his own emotions today, he’d have pried further. “I don’t know a goddamn thing about women or relationships, but you know what, Q? Watch your girlie shows. I won’t tell a soul.”

Quinn chuckled lightly, appreciating how kind his little brother always was. He was the silent hero in the family, cleaning up all their legal messes without complaint and faithful to a fault…sometimes literally. “Let me guess, that’s your Christmas present to me?”

“You know me so well, it’s like we’re brothers or something.” Jimmy finished the rest of his sandwich. “But in all seriousness, man, I’m sorry. And if you want to take some time to yourself, I’ll cover for you with the family.” Jimmy’s radio crackled from where it sat holstered. He glanced sideways at it, a look of foreboding flashing over his face so briefly Quinn almost missed it before it was replaced with a smooth smile. “Oh, and Ma said, if you’re not dead, you need to change your ringtone for her.”

Quinn burst out laughing, his head tilted back. It was just like his family to bring him a smile in his darkest moments. And puppies.