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“He was going to turn me over to the police for money and revenge.”
I know I’m not making any sense, but I’m starting to feel faint. I’m pretty sure I’m on the cusp of passing out.
“He sold you out? For money?” Quinn asks, lightly running a hand down my cheek as he turns me to face him.
I nod, and my head feels like a bobblehead toy.
“Motherfucker,” he snarls, and without warning, he gently places me onto the mattress and walks over to a moaning Justin.
My eye widens as I watch Quinn kick Justin over until he’s lying on his back, helpless and afraid. I internally celebrate when I see the damage Quinn inflicted on him as he moans and splutters up bloodied spittle. But that celebration turns to shock as Quinn reaches for the knife in the waistband of his torn jeans, his expression unreadable. Flipping it over once, he drops to one knee and plunges the knife upward, straight into Justin’s side.
The astonished breath catches in my chest because I’m pretty certain Quinn just stabbed through Justin’s rib cage, puncturing a kidney or lung.
A pool of blood seeps through Justin’s shirt, staining the white material a bright red as Quinn yanks out the knife, which makes a sickening, sucking sound at the withdrawal. Justin gurgles from the pain while his broken body writhes from side to side as he blindly reaches for his torso, attempting to put pressure on the gash.
My eye zeros in on his wound because, unattended, Justin will die. But that was Quinn’s intention all along. He rises to his full, towering height, and I’m stunned into silence.
“C’mon, Red,” Quinn says. Leaning down, Quinn wraps his bloodied hands under my knees and lifts me into his chest.
Wrapping my shaky arms around his neck, I allow Quinn to carry me away from the horror that will never leave my memory.
He kicks the door open, and the bright moon is our only light. The trek through the forest is long, but I don’t mind since I’m in the arms of my savior. Quinn leads us to an old, beat-up Dodge and opens the door for me, placing me along the bench seat, softly rearranging his sweater so I’m covered.
My open eye closes as soon as my head rests on the leather seat.
The engine roars to life, and Quinn reverses out slowly.
“Sorry,” he tenderly apologizes when I hiss in pain as he drives over a bump.
He brushes the hair off my sticky brow, and I cry out when he passes over my temple, which is caked in coagulated blood.
“Fuck, I’ve got to take you to the hospital.”
Curling myself into a ball, I groan, shaking my head. “No, Quinn,” I choke out, turning toward him. “You look after me. No one…but you. Promise.”
Warm fingers barely stroke my cheek, but I sigh, comforted by his tender touch.
“Okay, I promise,” Quinn whispers. It’s all I need to hear because, with that, I slip into a black abyss and stay there for days.
Iknow I’m not awake, but I’m also not asleep. I’m just here and there, floating in and out of consciousness.
But it’s better this way, as every time I come to, my body aches, and it’s better not to deal with the pain—just yet.
Because I know when I do, nothing will ever be the same.
I never knew you could float among the clouds. But here I am, doing just that.
I jump from cloud to cloud, laughing because the texture feels like marshmallows between my toes.I know I’m dreaming…unless I’m dead? But I doubt Quinn would let me go.
“Hello, child.”
My movements are in slow motion as I spin in a circle, attempting to find the owner of that voice.
Everything here is different.
When I finally see him, my eyes fill with tears. But my tears are the color of rainbows, not clear or translucent.
I guess in my dreams, I cry colorful tears.
