Chapter 73: A New Contract

In the end, Razia didn’t run. She could’ve claimed it was out of guilt and because she wanted to do the right thing, and that wouldn’t have been a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. The sad fact was that it was just impractical to run. The day after an incursion from southern gangs, Cicero was liable to be getting every bit of information he could and watching all the ways in and out of the city. Razia might’ve been able to do it with enough shards to bribe or smuggle her way out, but ever since moving in with Quentin she didn’t keep much money on hand. With him paying for almost everything, stealing from him in order to get away from facing him would’ve been bad, even for her.

So instead, Razia did the best she could. She cleaned herself up, got something small to eat, and planned ahead for possible consequences. It was calming, in a way. Either Quentin would kick her out and they’d be done, or he wouldn’t. She couldn’t see him doing any worse than that. Quentin was many things, but cruel was not one of them. Not like her, with her need to tweak the noses of people who annoyed her.

Cicero worried her more. She’d paid dearly for his initial protection, and then more and more in information along the way. How far would that go? Powerful men had little reason to stick to any deals that were no longer benefiting them. There was always the risk of losing face at canceling a standing agreement, but that only mattered when the person they betrayed was important. It was doubtful any of the major players of the North Orchrisus Underworld would give a shit if Cicero just handed Razia over to Piro to save himself the headache.

But that was a problem for later. It would happen or it wouldn’t, there was nothing she could do now. Nothing until Quentin came back home and she found out what was going to happen to them. For now, all she could do was distract herself and keep going on. Razia spent a few minutes in front of the mirror, making sure she didn’t look too tired, too battered, or like she had been crying. She put on different smiles until she found the right one, tired but relaxed. Then she headed over to the Garden.

It was close to noon, but none of the girls were out of their rooms. Usually at this point at least Jenna would be out there and taking up half a couch on her own and there would be one or two people talking or eating something before going out for a bit. Maybe they were already gone. Maybe they were looking for some place else to work so this didn’t happen again. Either way, Razia had her mess to clean up before she could worry about that.

One of the Warlords died there the night before. His body had already been removed but there was a long, dark streak where the coppers dragged his body out for identification and transportation. She shouldn’t have been surprised that they made more work for her, but she was. Maybe she even deserved the trouble. This was yet another dead body because of her. Not that she would weep over a dead Warlord. Sighing, Razia grabbed a bucket and a sponge and filled it with water and soap from the kitchen.

Truth be told, Razia had minimal experience cleaning anything, let alone dried up blood. There’d always been other people to do that. When scrubbing seemed to do nothing, she dumped the soapy water all over the floor and went to refill the bucket, hoping the water would help soften up the mess. She got on her hands and knees and worked at a small spot on the floor, wincing at how big the task was. If she wasn’t going to run, then she had to clean up after herself.

Fifteen minutes later one of the doors opened. Samantha came out and stood over Razia while she worked. Razia looked up and greeted her but went back to her task. She was making some headway now, even if it was going to take her all day she’d do it. Samantha didn’t say anything at first. She went into the storage room and came out with another sponge and joined Razia on the ground, silently scraping the rough material against the tiles.

She wasn’t the only one. Lucy eventually came out, as did Jenna. When they saw what Razia and Samantha were up to, they joined in without saying a word. Even Jenna remained quiet as she worked. When Isa came out, she sat on a nearby loveseat instead. Razia looked up to see that the woman looked about as haunted as she herself felt. The dusk-girl stared off into space somewhere vaguely near them, but Razia didn’t think she really saw them on the ground.

Little by little, the brown smear on the floor was wiped away. Without needing to be asked, Lucy dumped the bucket and came back with a fresh one, and then came back again with an armful of tattered rags they used to dry away the water and wipe away the last remnants of blood. After an hour of work, the spot was gone as if it was never there to begin with. Tired and wonderfully sore from the effort, Razia sat back on the floor, wiping away sweat.

“Thank you girls,” she said, looking around. Lucy looked about as tired as she did, while Samantha mostly looked nervous. Jenna met her gaze, and Razia braced herself.

“What the fuck happened last night?” Jenna said.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Isa said from her spot on the loveseat. “More people came for Razia. How long is this going to keep happening?”

“Would you give her a break?” Samantha demanded. “It’s not like she’s doing this on purpose.”

“No Sam,” Razia put her hand on Samantha’s arm. “She’s right. This shouldn’t be happening. If it hadn’t been for Quentin, I’d probably be dead right now. You all deserve better than this.”

“And where was Quentin?” Isa said, standing up. Normally so elegant and composed, her hair was frizzy and there was a wild look to her eyes. “You said he was taking a personal night, but he shows up shortly after and then just arms up and rescues you? And we’re supposed to accept everything is fine?”

The other faces showed the same curiosity, the same need to know. Sighing, Razia looked down. “Quentin killed several of the men who invaded the Garden. Others were arrested, and most of the problem is already dealt with. We’ve got this under control.”

“Until next time,” Isa scoffed.

“I don’t want to seem like I’m on Isa’s side,” said Jenna, earning a dirty look from Isa, “but she’s got a point. What’s going to stop them from trying again? What if they take more of us as hostages to make sure Mr. Q can’t act?”

“Mr. Q can handle it,” Samantha insisted. “He did in the past, he did last night too. We’re going to be just fine.”

Gods how she loved Samantha’s faith in them. If only it was deserved. Razia climbed to her feet, smoothing out her dress. “He shouldn’t have to. This is my problem, and I’m dealing with it. I’m going to make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

“You say that,” Jenna pressed, “but how? Isa’s right in that it keeps happening. Samantha’s right in that Mr. Q keeps handling it. What exactly are you going to do to stop it from happening? What happens when Mr. Q decides that this is too much of a hassle and we have to go back to taverns? I mean, I’ve got some savings now, but I don’t want to have to go back to sifting through shit at an inn when we’ve got men with money and class coming for us now.”

“I don’t want to have to find a new place to stay,” Lucy said, brushing her hair out of her eyes. “I like it here. I don’t want things to change.”

This was the real cost of her actions, Razia reminded herself. These were good people, and all of her good intentions in the world didn’t mean shit if they were the ones who were put at risk by her behavior. She wanted to do right by them, even as she kept failing them. Razia could outrun nearly any fire she started, but that didn’t mean bystanders didn’t get burned. She forced a smile and shrugged.

“Mr. Cicero’s not going to be happy about this. I’m going to talk to him about having better vision on the bridges to prevent this from happening again. Or at least, to give us better warning. When Quentin gets back, he’ll --”

“And where is he now?” Isa challenged. “Are we completely open in case your old friends care to try again? Or is he hiding in his room and feeling sorry for himself again?”

Razia took a deep, calming breath. “He took a wound during last night’s fights and he’s getting it patched up. I chose to stay home and clean up and check in on all of you. When he gets back he and I are going to figure out a long term plan.” Or he’d tell her to fuck off for good. Maybe she should’ve felt bad for lying more, but they needed hope right now. They didn’t need to know how close it all was to coming unraveled.

Footsteps echoed in the hall. Everyone looked up to see Quentin trudging his way in. He looked about as bad as Razia felt, run down and battered. His cloak hid the horrible wound on his shoulder, most of the way healed already, but Razia saw the way he carefully held himself to avoid aggravating it worse. What surprised her was the smell of alcohol coming off of him from several feet away.

“Hey,” he said, coughing to clear his throat. His eyes slid over all of them, lingering on Razia and making her want to shrink. “Is everyone doing okay? Did anyone else get hurt?”

“Just scared,” Jenna said. “Last night was fucking terrifying. I mean, we had those two friends of yours to guard us but they just walked right in like they didn’t matter!”

Quentin flinched, but nodded to show his understanding. “My friends are…were great at what they do. But we were expecting a few unruly clients at worst, not an invading force. We’re not going to let it happen again and if it does, I promise that every single person who crosses us is going to end up dead or locked up for the rest of their miserable lives.”

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Razia blinked. Did that mean that he was still going to be doing this go forward? She wanted to hope, but the sinking feeling in her stomach wouldn’t go away. This is what he was telling them, what would he tell her? Trying to read his expression was pointless. When it was just the two of them he wore every emotion on his sleeve, but he was putting on the same brave face she was.

“Are you okay, Mr. Q?” Lucy asked, coming up close. To her credit, she barely made a face at the way he smelled. “Razia said you got hurt.”

The smile he sent her way was real, at least. Real enough for Razia to be hopeful. Lucy was one of the girls he liked best, and she couldn’t picture him abandoning her. “Yeah, but it wasn’t too bad. I’ll live. But you can consider this a good time for another three days or so off of work while we figure things out. That’s actually what I’m here for. Razia and I need to talk.” His inscrutable gaze fell to her.

That sinking feeling in her stomach plummeted. There was no getting out of this. She nodded to him. “We should probably go do that as soon as possible. We’re going to do everything in our power to make sure this doesn’t happen again and the Garden will be run smoothly and safely.”

“We know you’re good for it,” Samantha said, puffing up. The redhead looked like she believed it, too. Not for the first time, Razia was amazed that Orchrisus could produce someone that soft and kind and good, when the rest of them were worn down or warped by the city.

Razia went up to Quentin’s side. He nodded to her and they left together. Razia looked over her shoulder to see Isa glaring daggers at them. That wasn’t new so much as something she thought they were done with. The past month and a half had done wonders for the Ramali woman’s temperament and now it was back to square one. Whatever, she had bigger problems to worry about.

She followed Quentin back through the garden and the courtyard to their home, and right back onto the lounger where they had spent so many hours talking. He sat down on one side of it facing outwards, and she sat down on the other side. He shrugged out of his cloak and Razia winced at the sight of his shoulder. It was red and swollen, but if it was as bad as he said it was it looked damned good now.

“Quentin, I’m really sorry,” she started. “What happened was completely unacceptable and --”

“I think I want to do the talking,” he said, surprising her. “You talk a lot more than I do. It’s my turn.”

Razia swallowed and gestured for him to continue while trying to bury the feeling of panic clawing its way out of her. She owed him this much, at least. Whatever his decision was, there was no running away. She’d face it and deal with it, and then what happened would happen.

“What you’ve done is not okay,” he said. “Not getting people killed, not helping out gangsters, not lying to…basically everyone you talk to. You really have a problem, and I don’t know if you’re going to change. I don’t know if you even can change or if this is just who you are.” Quentin didn’t sound angry so much as tired and resigned.

“I don’t know how I could possibly trust you again after all of this. If I just take it and we move on, what’s to stop you from doing this again at the first opportunity? My gut is telling me to just tell you to leave and for me to walk away from all of this.” Razia shrank with every new word. She thought of what she could say or do to plead that he not punish the girls because of her. Then he surprised her. “But the worst part is I can’t.”

Quentin laughed bitterly and buried his face in his hands. “You’re good at what you do, and part of me hates you for it. I can’t just walk away. What would I even do? I’m retired at the Colosseum now and after last night I don’t think Amicus is going to ask me for any more favors. How could I just sit around drinking myself into a stupor after I’ve gotten to live for a bit? How could I throw you out when you’re the only thing that’s made me feel good about myself?

“You may be a terrible liar Razia, but you’ve kept your most important promise to me.” Quentin turned towards her, expression softening. “You’ve shown me what life could be like, how to have more fun, and how to be a person around others again instead of just…hiding and waiting to die. For as much a fucking mess of a person as you are, you’re…you. Remember when you first cornered me in here? You asked me what I wanted. Ask me again, Razia.”

Hope stirred in her chest. She’d remained silent as he requested, but as he went on and the pain gave way to hope, she wanted to latch onto it and give her side of things, encourage him, do everything in her power to guide things towards an outcome she wanted. It looked like she wouldn’t have to do that. “Alright, Mr. Q,” she said, unable to resist smiling at him. “What do you want?”

He moved closer to her, until their knees were touching. “I want to keep going.” he said, icy blue eyes locked on hers. “If I’m going to be a high end pimp, I want to have the best whorehouse in all of Orchrisus. If we’re going to keep this place safe, I want to figure out how to make it happen so that none of my girls get hurt. And that includes you. I…I want you, Razia. But I don’t want to be your muscle of the month until you run away again, and I don’t want to be your charity project.”

“You aren’t,” said Razia, unable to stay silent. “You were never my charity project. Well,” she amended, shrugging, “not after the first night. That first night, I really did want to see what I could do to make you feel better, give you just a little moment of happiness. It wasn’t out of pity. It was compassion, and…pride, I guess, that I could make it happen. After that? Everything’s been real. I haven’t been playing with you Quentin. Ask me what I want.”

Quentin studied her. “Alright. What do you want, Razia?”

Maybe she could’ve given a speech or pleaded her case, or done any number of things to say she was sorry and that she wanted much the same as him. It wouldn’t have had quite the same punch as showing it all. So Razia gathered all of her hopes, her affection, her dreams of the future, the combined weight of a couple of months of growing closer and closer. She grabbed Quentin by the front of his tunic and pulled him in to kiss her.

He didn’t fight her this time. It was like on the bridge, something tentative and cautious, seeking more. She broke away, stomach fluttering as she just let her words come tumbling out without restraint or any plans guiding them. “I want you. You. You’ve spent so much time hating yourself and hiding that you don’t even see what kind of man you are. You’re good, Quentin.” She laughed, shaking her head and leaned against him. “After everything you’ve been through, you could easily be the world’s biggest bastard. But you aren’t. You…you make me want to be a better person.”

Quentin shook his head and opened his mouth to protest but Razia put a finger against his lips. “None of that self deprecating crap. I want to keep going, and to do better. I want to do it at your side. With you in charge,” she said, ignoring the way her worst self screamed at the loss of control. “You’ll have me and I can help you plan, but what you say goes.”

“And no more lies,” he said pointedly.

“And no more lies,” Razia promised. All of her anxieties melted away and she was left with this happy, giddy wave that made her want to cry more than his anger did. “We’ll talk to Cicero and make this right. We’ll beat Piro and build something great. You and me.”

He smiled, but then something occurred to him and he pulled away. “If…If we’re going to be a thing, then I want it to be a real thing. I don’t want to be an afterthought, or just one of many. I don’t want to ask you to stop what you’re doing, because I don’t think it’s bad but…”

There it was. Razia couldn’t help but laugh. It always came down to this with men, and it was something she supposed she couldn’t blame them for, even if it wasn’t the same for her. “You want me to be yours and yours alone,” she said.

Quentin looked down. “Yes.”

“Okay.” That surprised him. Razia took his hand in hers and brought it up to her lips to kiss his knuckles. “You’ve been my patron this entire time, Quentin. It started as a cover story, but it’s been true, hasn’t it? It’s common for patrons to demand exclusivity, and it’s something I’m willing to do. So here’s what I offer, Mr. Q. From now until the end of summer, I’m yours and yours alone. If you want to part ways or renegotiate our terms at that time, we will. But for now until then, the only people I will take to bed are you and anyone else you bring in.”

His face lit up in surprise and alarm. “Anyone else I bring in?”

Oh, it was so hard not to go full predator at this point. Maybe he hadn’t fully forgiven her and she wouldn’t blame him if he hadn’t, but she couldn’t help the relief she felt. Things would go forward and he’d give her a chance. Anything else was just her being a brat. And after spending the last few hours tormented and worried about how he’d react, it was impossible not to be a little playful and take joy where she could. After a month and a half of frustration, could anyone really blame her?

“Well, of course,” Razia said, grinning wickedly. “Just because we’re together doesn’t mean I’m not who I am. I’ll always be a whore, Quentin.” She decided to go for it and straddled his lap, hands meeting behind his neck to hang off him. “But until the end of summer, I’ll be your whore. And we’ve got so much fun ahead of us, it would be a shame to not show you every delight you’ve been missing.”

To Razia’s dark delight, color rushed to his face and his eye twitched. He battled himself internally, and maybe she shouldn’t have gotten enjoyment from pushing him, but he wasn’t rejecting her. Not entirely. His arms circled around her and kept her close. “You know I’m not going to be very good, right? I’m probably crap after this long.”

“Oh Quentin,” Razia sighed. “Do you really think that’s going to last? By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be able to charge for it.”

He made a helpless sound in the back of his throat. Razia smiled. It wasn’t fair, the way she ducked consequence after consequence and still got what she wanted. But for the first time in her life, she really wasn’t lying about anything. She wanted to do better, and as far as she was concerned the best way was through him. That didn’t mean she couldn’t have some fun along the way. They had tons of work ahead of them and would need to deal with more dangerous men, but for now? They had each other. They could afford one day to recover together.

Quentin closed his eyes. He was smiling, but it was almost sad. “I still don’t forgive you,” he said. “About Demetrius. I don’t forgive you and I don’t forgive myself for it. I’m not sure I can.”

Some of the anxiety and pain came back, but Razia brushed it aside. “I know,” she said. “I understand. I can’t change the past, but I’m going to do better in the future. You have my word, for what little that’s worth right now. All I want to do is make things right and make us happy and safe.”

His smile grew a bit. “That’s all I’m asking for.”

“Tomorrow I’ll set up a meeting with Mr. Cicero,” said Razia. “We’ll talk this out and find a solution. But for the rest of today let’s rest and just…See how things go, huh?”

“I’d like that.” Quentin leaned in, hesitantly, and Razia placed a simple, gentle kiss on his lips. He sighed against her, resting his head against hers.

“For now…” said Razia, unable to help herself. “How about we take a bath and recover?”

For the first time since they met, he said yes.