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His hair is wet from the shower and slicked back off his perfect face. The light catches off his nipple ring as he searches his backpack for a T-shirt. I’m staring at him, but I can’t help it.
“Um, just about Hank,” I confess, snapping me from openly gaping.
Quinn freezes from searching through his bag, his hands stilling from their rummaging.
“Are you okay?” he asks apprehensively, no doubt fearing I’ll take off or break down like I have in the past.
Looking up at him from the edge of the bed where I’m sitting cross-legged, I meet his concerned eyes.
“Yeah, I think I am,” I reply, fiddling with my sleeves and pulling them down over my fingers.
“I’m proud of you, Red.”
“You are?”
He nods, wisps of wet hair slipping into his eyes. “Yes. What you’ve gone through, not just the past few days, but your entire life, is something not a lot of people live through and stay sane.”
“Sometimes I question just how sane I really am,” I reply softly, lowering my eyes.
“Hey, look at me,” he says, walking over to the bed and crouching down.
I meet his concerned stare.
“I’ve never met anyone like you. You are the strongest person I know.”
I give him a disbelieving look, but he shakes his head. “I mean every single word. You have every right to be barely holding on after everything you’ve seen in your lifetime. And you could be a cruel, bitter, cynical bitch, but you’re not. You care about others and put them before yourself. If that isn’t strong, then I don’t know what is.”
I don’t know how to respond to him.He is the kindest man I have ever met, and I’m…falling desperately in love with him.
“Thank you,” I whisper, reaching for him and wrapping my arms around his warm neck.
Quinn kisses my temple and asks, “What for?”
“For believing in me,” I reply, leaning into his lips.
Quinn sighs as I toy with the wet locks at his nape. “And one day, you’ll believe in yourself.”
I hope he’s right.
Looking at the clock on the dresser, I know it’s now about four o’clock in South Boston, so the diner should be a little less chaotic for Abi to chat.
I don’t need to say a word as Quinn and I make our way downstairs. We find a pay phone and decide to make the call quick, just in case the line at the diner is tapped. I know we’re probably overreacting, but it’s better to be safe than…dead.
Thankfully, Abi answers on the fifth ring.
“Hi Abi, it’s me,” I say softly.
I hear her gasp, and then her footsteps quicken. I know she’s walking out back for some privacy.
“Hi, Mia, how are you? I was so worried about you two,” she says on a rushed breath.
“We’re okay. Sorry to worry you. We had some shit go down,” I say, referring to nearly being caught by the police—twice.
“I’m glad you called because my dad told me you and Quinn need to head to Canada until he can clear your name. It’s taking longer than expected, and with the town pressuring Sheriff Davidson for your arrest, the police are more persistent than ever.”
I look at Quinn and sigh. Out of all places to run, why does it have to be Canada? Is this the universe’s way of looking down at me and laughing at the irony of where I’m running to?
Quinn lifts an eyebrow to ensure I’m okay, and I nod.
