Free Unleashed by Crystal Jordan Page A

a new challenge.”
    Quill cocked an eyebrow. “I assume you’re not angling for a job.”
    That made the wolf-shifter break into a rare chuckle. “Not even close. I’d be a terrible businessman. The bureaucracy was bad enough in government work.”
    â€œTrue enough. Though a well-placed cred can slice through some of the red tape.”
    Kienan blinked. “Bribery.”
    â€œYou disapprove?” Why he felt the need to ask, Quill would never know.
    The wolf squinted through the steam, his gray gaze focused on Quill. “Is that what you’re hoping for or just what you’re used to?”
    â€œI gave up caring what people thought of me a long time ago. I did what I did to survive.” He shrugged but couldn’t meet that piercing gaze. Something tangled in his chest that he didn’t understand, so he pushed it away. “Growing up in the Vermilion doesn’t leave you with a lot of legal revenue sources outside of prostitution.”
    â€œWere you ever a jade?”
    â€œNo, I own interest in a few jadehouses now, but I never worked in one, never sold my body for money.” He grinned. “Though some might argue I sold my soul instead.” His smile faded and he cleared his throat. Why had he said that? Why did he feel the need to explain himself to this man? The wolf was a temporary distraction, nothing more. It was of no importance whether he understood Quill’s motivations. He turned off the shower and stepped out, turning his back on Kienan. “The truth is, I never knew my father and my mother was a blisshead who sold the drug to feed her addiction. I took over in order to keep a roof over our heads and food in our stomachs. My incentive was money, not drugs, and after I made my first few creds, I wanted more.”
    â€œAnd you always will.” The words were quiet, as unassuming as the man himself.
    â€œI like to be in control. In my house, everything revolved around my mother’s addiction. It controlled our whole life. Worse was when she had a man around who tried to ‘teach me some respect’ or father me in any way. I usually ended up getting my ass kicked.” Over and over again. Quill had the scars to prove it, too, inside and out. Only the most tenacious bastard would have made it out of his childhood alive, and he was nothing if not a survivor. He laughed, the sound harsh. “There was always someone bigger than me on the street, so I had to be smarter and faster. And I decided that someday I’d be the one making the decisions. I’d be the one dictating my own life.”
    He didn’t like to think about that time, rarely let himself. He’d learned long ago to look forward, not back. But the memories swamped him now, those ugly moments that shaped who he’d become. How many times had he been beaten so badly he couldn’t stand? How many bones had been broken before he’d even turned ten? How many times had his mother stood by and watched, so out of her mind with bliss she didn’t know or care what was happening? His gut roiled, and he swallowed hard. No, there’d been no control for him then. He lived by the whims of his mother’s habit.
    If he didn’t want to starve to death, he’d had to deal the drug she craved so badly and figure out how to keep his stash out of her hands. Seeing what it did to her had probably been the one thing that had saved him from diving into that same stupor. His friends back then had fallen prey to it, one by one, but Quill wasn’t going out like that. He fucking refused to give his life to a drug, to spin so far out of control he didn’t give a shit if people he loved were beaten to death in front of him. He’d scrabbled and scraped and fought, done things he never wanted to think about ever again to get out. He’d do it all again if he had to. Never again would he live like that. Never.
    Kienan hummed. “My work taught me