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“Hey,” she said.
Hudson grinned and Julius kissed her hair very, very carefully.
* * *
The next fewdays at the hospital blurred together in Quinn’s mind. Some police officers came in and questioned her. They seemed oddly concerned with how she’d gotten the keys, but she insisted again and again that she’d just grabbed them from Julius’s hand.
At some point later, she heard Ash and Julius in her room, quietly discussing how the police had found two bullets embedded in the outside of the SUV and one in the passenger seat.
“It’s pretty clear he was shooting at you,” Ash said. Quinn didn’t hear Julius’s response.
From the moment she could talk, Julius and Hudson wouldn’t hear of any plan that didn’t involve her recuperating at their house. Quinn protested weakly for about thirty seconds, and then caved. After all, her parents were being charged and held, mostly because she’d told the police what she’d overheard and they’d subpoenaed phone records, and she was in no shape to take care of herself. She had a neck brace, hard bandages around her ribs, and had to move like some kind of robot.
* * *
For some reason,she was surprised when Julius drove the Prius up to a beautiful Victorian house in the nicest neighborhood in Granite Valley. She didn’t know why, but she’d imagined something else for them — maybe a cabin way out in the woods.
“Wow,” she said.
“I know, right?” said Hudson, hopping out of the car and stretching a little. Then he opened the passenger side door and helped Quinn out very, very slowly.
“This is beautiful,” she said. “Did you guys do this?”
“Mostly me,” Hudson said, her hand on his arm, just in case. Julius unlocked the front door. “Turns out mechanical skills translate well to home repair. I’ve still got the garage out back for tinkering.”
“Watch the step,” Julius said as Quinn walked into their front room, both men watching her every move, just waiting to swoop in and help.
She wondered how she’d gotten so lucky.
* * *
The trial had been pushed backa week, due to circumstances, and it was a week of freshly squeezed orange juice, breakfast in bed, reality TV marathons and sitting in the garage, talking to Hudson as he fiddled with motorcycles. For the week, he’d asked his clients to bring their bikes to his garage instead of the shop so he could watch over Quinn.
There was no more sex, at least for Quinn, though she could heard Hudson and Julius sometimes in the master bedroom. She was the tiniest bit jealous, mostly that she couldn’t join in — even walking too fast still made her ribs scream in pain.
By the day the trial rolled around again, Quinn insisted on coming out.
“You’re still not healed,” Julius said doubtfully.
Quinn gulped her orange juice, sitting at the kitchen counter.
“Come on,” she said. “I’ll just stand there. I won’t even carry a sign.”
The two men looked doubtful.
“Don’t make me call a taxi,” she said. “I’ll do it.”
“You really can be stubborn,” Hudson muttered. “Fine.”
She grinned.
Two hours later, she stood on the courthouse steps again, but on the other side, surrounded by shifter, humans, and their kids, all shouting and holding up pro-triad-marriage signs. She held onto Hudson’s arm as he waved a sign that said LET LOVE RING.
Quinn had been worried that the people over there might hate her. She wouldn’t have blamed them, honestly, but instead they treated her like any other person. It probably helped that she’d taken down ShifterSexManiacs.com, and now the page simply read, “We support triad marriage rights.”
Across the steps, there were considerably fewer people holding up anti-marriage signs, and they were less enthusiastic than before. Whereas her parents had thought that an assassination would galvanize people to their cause, it turned out that the opposite had happened — no one wanted to be on the murdering side.
As she watched, a triad — two men and a woman, plus their adorable kid — walked up the steps, grinning and waving at their supporters, totally ignoring the other side of the steps.
Then Julius walked up the steps, looking through the crowd for Quinn and Hudson.
Quinn’s stomach knotted, remembering what had happened last time.
What if there are other shooters, she thought. Maybe there was a backup plan.
He waved at the two of them, and they waved back. Then he walked up the steps and entered the courthouse, the heavy door swinging shut behind him.
