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“Is that what you guys were…Special Forces?” I ask, hoping they’re associated with anything but the mafia.
“No…no, we’re not. We really don’t have any excuses, other than we’re just crazy as shit.” He pauses to regard me, contemplating something in his mind for a few beats before he adds, “Shit, do you always ask so many questions?”
I’m taken aback for a split second. “You insensitive, arrogant pig; yes, as a matter of fact I do ask a lot of questions,” I say pointing toward myself. “This happens to be my life we’re talking about.”
Before I can continue on my rant, he cuts me off.
“Calm down, sweet cheeks. Don’t get your feathers in a ruffle. I’m just asking questions too. No offense was meant. Don’t make me your punching bag.”
Perhaps I am looking for reasons to get angry and lash out.
My state of mind can’t seem to grab onto one emotion and keep it there. My mind wanders all over the place as I grow quiet, thinking of Adam getting on with his life, the reality of Adam no longer being mine, and the fact he didn’t wait for me…he was my life, my everything. We had three strong years of history together, and he just turned his back on me and walked away.
“Why didn’t Travis tell me?” I close my eyes, whispering to myself. The familiar sting of tears begins to brew behind my eyelids as I face the cold, hard truth.
Quinn grabs my hand, squeezes it, and then steps back and grabs a box of tissues from the other side of the counter, offering me some.
I grab a handful of tissues from the box and wipe my nose. I look at him with pained eyes, and whisper, “Thank you.”
He purses his lips together, looking torn, as if he wants to say something else, but he keeps quiet. He reaches out, gently tucking a few strands of my hair behind my ear. The loving gesture just makes me want to cry all the more. My heart feels as if someone punctured my chest cavity, pulled out my heart, and then stomped on it. Before I know it, I’ve leaned my forehead against his broad shoulder and begin to bawl my eyes out.
“He has his own reasons for not wanting you to know,” Quinn says in a soft voice.
I lift my head off Quinn’s shoulder and come face-to-face with his bold cerulean eyes. Their sparkle is both calming and mesmerizing at the same time.
“What are his reasons?” I softly demand. “If you’ve showed me the worst, surely you can tell me at minimum why Travis hid this from me.”
Quinn doesn’t hesitate in his reply, “He didn’t want to see any more pain or hurt on your face, especially as your heart broke for another man. He didn’t want to know how you would react. I think he was hoping for indifference, because he wants to be your end-all, be-all.”
My eyes narrow as a tear slips out from the corner of one eye. “Years of a loving history with one’s fiancé aren’t just forgotten in the blink of an eye, Quinn.”
He briefly closes his eyes, and lets out a heavy sigh. “That’s part of the problem. A few of us here know that feeling all too well, and he didn’t want to believe it would’ve existed for you.”
“Then why…why did you tell me?” I choke out.
“Because you needed to know. No matter what happens between you and Travis, you needed to know the truth.”
I begin gasping for breath. The simple act of breathing becoming a laborious chore, and then I grow dizzy. Quinn lifts me off the counter and carries me upstairs to his bedroom, shutting the door behind us with the heel of his foot.
“Breathe, little one. Take a deep breath,” he gently commands. I try to steal a deep breath, but I can only manage short, fragmented gasps. Once I get enough oxygen in reserves, I let it all back out with one long, loud pained cry.
Quinn holds me tight in his arms as he sits down on his bed, positioning himself so he’s resting his back against the headboard. I curl myself onto his lap as he presses the side of my head against his chest. He whispers over my head as I continue to cry for all I’m worth, “That’s it; let it all out.”
With Quinn reminding me so much of Jake, I pretend he actually is Jake as I take comfort in the illusion. I bury my face in his shoulder as uncontrollable sobs wrack my body. I don’t hear when Travis enters the room, but I feel him. His presence always fills a room. I’ve become attuned to his distinct aura, and my body always hums when he enters. It’s like a sixth sense.
“Jules,” Travis whispers at my back, and then places his hand on my shoulder. Reflexively, I arch my back, trying to escape his touch. It burns through me, and I can’t handle him right now.
