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“Of course, I am. This is no life for you to live.”
“You either,” I add because this is not just about me.
Quinn nods, and his hair slips over his brow, blanketing his narrowed eyes. “No more running, then.”
“What?” I gasp because surely, I haven’t heard him correctly.
“We stop running, and we figure out another plan. We’ll call Abi and get her to talk to her dad tomorrow. This is just too dangerous for you. Today was too close. If anything had happened to you,” He pauses before he confesses, his eyes swimming in regret. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.”
“Stop it. This isn’t your fault. None of it is.”
“I should have been there.”
“Well, I shouldn’t have let my guard down. There is no point playing the blame game,” I state, hoping he’ll see reason.
Quinn thankfully nods and lets it go.
“So what do we do now?” I ask, watching as his fingers clasp the bandage together with some tape.
Quinn draws his piercing into his mouth, deep in thought. “Well, we have no other choice. We have to keep a low profile till Lucky recovers.”
“So what do you propose we do till then?”
Quinn’s sinful mouth tips up into a lopsided smile as he traces over my moon tattoo, which is peeking out from underneath the bandage.
“I can think of a few things,” he replies, his eyes lifting to meet my bashful ones, and my pulse quickens at what he’s envisioning.
“Oh, Red, you make this too easy.”
“What do I make easy?”
“Fantasizing about you in all compromising…positions,” he replies, a dimple hugging his cheek.
I almost jet off his lap at his confession, and he chuckles, dipping his head and drawing my lower lip into the warm cavern of his mouth. Moaning at the contact, he pulls away all too quickly, and I pout.
This will be a long couple of days.
I can’t sleep.
My hand throbs, and Quinn is right. I think I need stitches because blood stains the white bandage a bright red.
There are painkillers in the bathroom, and I decide to take a couple, hoping to numb the pain so I can catch a few hours’ sleep.
Slipping out of bed, not wanting to wake a snoring Quinn, I tiptoe to the door, wanting to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. With my hand poised on the door, I hear a muffled voice from out in the hallway. I know it’s Justin, and I know spying on someone is not polite, but my body acts before my brain can tell me otherwise.
I close the door softly behind me and creep out into the hallway, shrouding myself in the shadows. Justin stands in the living area with his back turned to me, whispering to someone on his cell.
“I know, sorry. I fucked up.”
The person on the other end is chewing Justin out, and he rubs the back of his neck in frustration.
“Yeah, well, I’m trying. It’s not as easy as you think. Okay, fine. Just hurry the hell up.”
I have no idea what Justin is talking about, but it can’t be good.
The look he gave me today was one of anger, and I don’t know why. Yes, Quinn spoke to him a little harshly, but considering the circumstances, surely Justin can understand? But Justin is hiding something. I haven’t forgotten his conversation with me at the bar when he confessed he is hell-bent on revenge.
And I haven’t mentioned it to Quinn either.
