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It has to do with me.
I’ve done my part and warned her about my father and the danger she may be in. So now it’s her turn to start talking.
I also want to apologize to Polly for pulling a gun on her.
My temper got the better of me, and even though that’s no excuse, I still have to try and make amends. I have no doubt she’ll tell me to shove it because I know that’s what I would do if I were her, but I’m not her.
So I have to at least try.
This whole situation has my already nauseated stomach doing somersaults.
“Morning,” says a croaky-voiced Quinn as he lays a kiss on my forehead before pouring himself a cup of coffee.
We sip our coffee in silence, but the inevitable lingers.
“What are we going to do now?”
“I thought I would keep up the crazy and go see Cynthia.”
“You’re right, thatiscrazy,” he says, tongue in cheek.
“I never claimed to be sane,” I reply with a playful shrug. “This is your last chance to run screaming for the Canadian hills.”
“I think you mean the Rocky Mountains,” he corrects with a smirk, kissing the tip of my nose.
I love that Quinn and I can always be dorks together regardless of our situation.
“Your hair is getting so long,” I say, unable to take my eyes off his bed head.
“Don’t you like it?” He chews on his lip ring, which is totally distracting.
“Like what?” I ask, enthralled by his actions.
No matter how many times I see him tug at that hoop, I can never get enough.
“My hair.” He chuckles, reading my dirty thoughts.
“Oh right,” I reply, my eyes shyly meeting his. “There’s nothing I won’t like about you, Quinn Berkeley.”
And I mean every word of it.
My comment has me thinking about his tattoo and his confession about his past sins. What has he done that’s so bad he could never forgive himself?
Looking into his gentle eyes, I know that whatever it is, it’ll never change how I feel about him.
We all have skeletons in our closets. I should know. But no matter what he’s done, we all deserve a second chance, right?
With that thought, the decision to go see my mother feels all the more fitting because evenshedeserves a second chance.
However, what if that second chance isn’t enough?
Looking at the mansion through the windshield of our stolen truck, I sigh, totally unprepared for round two.
The closer we get to Cynthia’s home, the more I regret my decision. But now that I’m here, there’s no turning back. I’ve dealt with worse before, so I tell myself to slip on my big girl panties because I’m not leaving this place until I get some answers.
Patting Lucky on the head for luck, I exit the truck and interlace my fingers through Quinn’s warm ones.
I scoff when I see a dancing Santa and his entourage of reindeer and elves displayed on the front lawn. I never noticed this ridiculous Christmas exhibit when I was here last, and that’s a good thing because I would have taken an axe to it.
