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He squeezes his eyes shut hard for a moment. “Not long after you left Jack’s, I started having sleep issues,” he says quietly. “Well, to be fair, I wasn’t a great sleeper before then, but after… After everything that happened, things got worse.” He glances at me and presses his lips into a thin line, before looking away, seeming nervous and reluctant to tell me more.
“How bad?” I ask, allowing him no wiggle room.
“The deprivation exacerbated the sleepwalking issue I’ve had since I was young.”
“Howbad?” I repeat, not satisfied by that vague explanation.
“I don’t know how I got there, but Loosh tackled me on the sidewalk outside your house. He woke me up, and when I realized what I’d almost done…” He flares his nostrils, tightens his jaw, and he looks away, shaking his head again.
He looks to the ceiling, sniffs, and then clears his throat. “I couldn’t let that toeverhappen again, so I took preventative measures,” he says, returning his gaze to me.
“You…? By tying yourself to your bed?”
“Every night,” he confirms.
I repeat his words in a squeak, and he nods. “If I ever—” He stops himself by biting the back of his battered knuckles.
“Fortenyears?” I stare at him, my mind whirling to make sense of what that even looks like. An ache builds in my throat. “Show me your ankle.”
He stares right back at me, and then rolls up the cuff of his jeans — on the wrong ankle.
“Other fucking ankle, Quin. I’m not at idiot, and you just lost Brownie points, for implying it,” I say with a scowl. “Show me the one you tie to the bed.”
“No,” he replies firmly.
“Showme.”
Maintaining eye contact, he bends and rolls up his other cuff, to reveal the scarred and bruised skin that looks as if it barely gets time to heal before receiving more abuse.
I cover my mouth again, as an involuntary whimper breaks loose.
All this time, things have been hard for me, but I had Curty for company, and our busy life has enough distractions I can almost pretend it’s normal sometimes. I had no idea what Quin’s been facing alone each day, though, stuck under the heavy hand of Jack Montgomery.
For years, I’ve seen Quin forbid his gaze from lingering on me. I’ve seen him casually minimize any outward expressions of love he accidentally shows his face. But he never once led me to believe he was anything less than emotionally reserved and utterly in control of everything he has power over. Has it all been an act? He’s kept me sheltered, while he’s lived the hardest road imaginable, just so I could have a life of ease?
My tears are fast and furious, as they burst forth, and I can’t stop the sobbing.
Quin shoves the leg of his jeans back down, his eyes softening. “Please don’t cry, baby. I’m good. I can handle it; I swear. I would bear so many unspeakable things, if it meant keeping harm from touching you. I couldn’t protect you once, but never again. I fucking promised.”
I only cry harder, and he chews at the edge of his thumb looking irritated. “I didn’t want you to see it,” he says, grinding his palms against his eyes. “I didn’t want you to think I’m weak. I promise I’m not. You don’t need to be scared. I can handle it, Kira.”
“Stop.” I wipe at my tears. “I’m crying because I’m hurting for you. Not because I’m afraid. I didn’t know how much you were putting yourself through every day, just to show up, and I’m annoyed I believed the lie.” I gesture at his face, where he’s already realigning his features into an emotionless façade with practiced ease — probably to spare me from how fucking intense his emotions truly are.
“We’re a team,” I remind him. “It’susagainst the world, not… you, protecting me from the darkness so I’ll believe there’s only light. I know there’s darkness, Quin; I’veseenthe fucking darkness. But we need to stand together if our light is going to outshine it, okay?”
Eventually, he nods, and I relax into my chair with a shuddering sigh. “Thank you,” I say.
He runs his hands up and down his thighs. “Well, this is not the evening I had planned,” he mutters, giving me a shy smile.
“So you did arrange for Dusty to be elsewhere, so we could chat across his room?”
“Maybe,” he says with a secretive smile. “It’s not an ideal date night, but Curty’s taken care of, Jack’s busy meeting with some business associates downtown, and we are all alone, which is what I wanted. I’ve been dying to ask you something.”
My heart flutters. “You have?”
Quin tilts his head in my direction. “There’s been no packaging for feminine-hygiene products in your garbage for the last month, so I was wondering…”
“You’ve been hunting through my garbage again?”
