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Chapter ten
Long Lonely Night
Quinn
Suffering through a long, lonely Christmas without my pup made going to work difficult for the first time since I joined Drew’s firm. I loved working there and what I did for a living. I always found a way to connect helping others to the work. That’s how I functioned in life. That’s what made daddy-play resonate with me so thoroughly. With Royce not answering my texts or calls, it sent that part of me into a tizzy. I didn’t want to deal with other people’s issues. I wanted to fix Royce’s.
I practically tossed my briefcase into my small office. It had never felt constricting before, but now the paneled walls put pressure on my chest and head. I dropped into the fancy chair behind the desk that took up two-thirds of the room. Even the luxury of this place rubbed me wrong today. “Fuck.” What good was this fancy law firm and my expensive degree if I couldn’t use it to help my pup?
Before I consigned myself to moping all day, Drew popped his head in. “How you doing, Quinn?”
My glare couldn’t be helped. What would he be doing right now if it was Justin and not Royce? “What do you want to hear?”
Drew slipped in and shut the door behind him. His sleek suit was most likely bespoke. It had a slight sheen to the dark blue material and looked damn good, fitted to his runner’s frame. “I want to hear the truth.” He stood in front of my desk and tapped the corner.
“I’m not doing well, Drew.” My sigh sounded over the top, but Drew didn’t chastise me for the melodrama. He waited for me to continue. It was a skill that made him a great lawyer. “I must have pushed him too hard. Royce hasn’t responded to me. It’s turning me inside out.” I held my hands up in front of me. “I feel useless.”
“I can imagine. When Justin and I first started out, there was an incident. I thought he was in trouble, and I panicked. Turned out he wasn’t. He’s strong and can handle himself.”
“He’s fierce.” The only shit Justin ever took from anyone was Drew’s, and that was fun to watch at times. But not today. “I’m not so sure about Royce. He’s…fragile. Right now, anyway. His dad took everything from him. All of his support. And now he won’t let me be that for him.”
“But that’s what you need, not what he needs.”
“What?”
“You’re right that Royce is going through so much right now and a lot of it he has to figure out himself. But that’s not about you. It’s not that he doesn’t need you, but he needs you to wait, and I know that’s hard, but that’s what you have to do.”
Wait. Right. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“I do, Quinn. I know it’s hard. You have to get that under control, though.”
“Feels like you know me well.”
“Well enough. From seeing some of what makes me tick in you.” He pointed at me with a comforting smile. “Wait for him. That’s all you can do.” Drew knocked on the desk, and when I smiled, he left. But I didn’t feel like smiling.
Wait.
I would do it if that’s what my pup needed, but it wasn’t in my wheelhouse. I didn’t wait. I took. I commanded. I comforted and supported. Action was my modus operandi. It was how I’d learned to cope and ultimately thrive. I ran my hands through my hair, knowing I was messing it up and not caring. This situation had me thinking about my childhood again, which was never a good subject for me and one I liked to avoid, but how I felt now related to that, and I couldn’t get away from it.
Being the middle kid had been as typical as you would think. My older brother gave me hell, when he bothered to notice me, and my little sister tagged after me like a puppy. Most of the time I had spent with her had been trying to ditch her, but I couldn’t. No, Cally was my responsibility. Especially after my brother, Duncan, left home. It was school, work, getting home to fix dinner, and making sure Cally did her homework. Clean up after and get her ready for bed. Only then could I start on my homework. Because my mom didn’t get home until late. Sure, she was a single mother with responsibility, but she was also a high-powered attorney at the most prestigious law firm in Tallahassee, which held president in her life most of the time. Not to mention her more social affairs. She had never had ambitions of running for political office, but politics intrigued her, and she made sure she was involved in whatever campaign was going on. She attended fundraisers, dinners, and parties and basically conducted her life as if she didn’t have three kids. And could I blame my father? Sure, but he was gone. How had she fallen for a truck driver? Not that there was anything wrong with that, but it was incongruous with how I pictured my mother.
Years of therapy and self-reflection brought me to the conclusion that despite how I felt at the time, taking care of things at home, Cally, the house, whatever needed to be done was also how I learned to cope. When everything in my life was lined up, clean, and in order, it gave me more than satisfaction. It gave me peace and calm inside a warring head. The daddy-play was the same, and it went so far beyond play. When I had a boy, or pup in this case, I needed to take care of them. They had to be happy and safe so I could be happy and safe.
Currently, Royce was neither of those things. And it was like a fifteen-year-old boy was in my head, clawing the walls and screaming down the roof. I wasn’t going to be able to wait until things worked out. I had to do something.
But the only thing I could do was wait. My fucking conundrum. If I was going to get through this, I needed distraction. I opened my laptop and got to work. It was the only way.
I picked up a Cuban sandwich with plantain chips and black bean soup on my way home. Hell, if I was eating alone, I’d eat something I liked that I didn’t normally get. I set the food on my coffee table and grabbed a beer from the fridge. When I sat back down, I noticed it was preternaturally quiet. It was early for my neighbors to be home, but the silence bothered me.
I’d bought a new house in an older neighborhood outside of Ybor. You could probably see a great view of downtown Tampa if you climbed up on the roof. Not that I ever planned to do that. I preferred sitting on the wide front porch with its wide, geometrically shaped columns. The trend had become popular in the 1920s and 30s. But now-a-days, you saw it more in renovated or new properties that wanted to capitalize on the retro style, like mine that had been designed to look similar to the old homes in the area. I loved my little house. Though, without Royce, it seemed empty and cold.
Turning on the television was the obvious answer. Distraction and noise. I flipped over to Disney and put Star Wars Rebels on. It was perfect to entertain when I didn’t want to think too hard. I watched two episodes while I ate, but that was all I could deal with, so I flipped it to the news to listen to while I cleaned up.
When had my life become so pedestrian? I didn’t care to call any of my friends or acquaintances. There was only one person I wanted to see, but I’d been put in the wait box.
I give up.
Nothing would be right until Royce’s court case was worked out. I had to accept that fact. But it was damn hard. I showered and went to bed, though it was still early. I could read a few briefs before going to sleep—more diversion. My bedroom was peaceful with charcoal gray walls and simple furnishings, all designed around the stunning Daltrey Boxbaum painting, Summer Love, which I’d bought a few years ago during a trip to Chicago. I hung the spectacular artwork on the main wall with gallery lights above it to showcase the beautiful blues surrounding the rendering of boys playing together in a swimming pool. The images gave me peace and reminded me of happier times. Swimming with friends and my first love. It made me smile. I’d never regretted the big money I’d shelled out for the piece. When you got up close to the oversized image though, there was a multitude of other images within the water, symbols of time and growing up. I sighed and pulled my work out of my briefcase.
