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“Oui,” Margot managed to get out.
“Okay, see you soon,” Quinn said and hung up.
Christian raised an eyebrow in question.
“Her father, who lives in France, just died,” Quinn said and started for the door.
“She has no family here?” Christian frowned, following him to the door.
“No, no family or friends. I can’t let her be alone through this,” Quinn rasped, his chest aching at the mere thought of her being so upset all by herself.
Christian nodded. “I understand. Go, be with your woman.”
Quinn snorted. “She’s not my woman.”
Christian laughed. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”
“Fuck you, dude,” he muttered and walked out the door.
“Love you too, brother!” Christian called after him.
Quinn flipped him the bird over his shoulder as he walked down the sidewalk to his car. He heard Christian chuckle some more then shut the front door. Quinn got into his car and headed back to Margot’s. It only took him about twenty minutes since there was no traffic. He parked in the same visitor parking spot and headed up to her condo, which was on the eighteenth floor. He had to knock on her door when he got there since he didn’t have a key.
It took Margot a good three to four minutes to get to the door because of her foot. When she opened it, his heart broke for her all over again. Her eyes were red and swollen, her nose was running, her hair was a mess, and she could barely work the crutches because she was crying so hard.
“Shit, Margot. I’m so sorry,” Quinn murmured as he stepped into her condo, shutting the door behind him.
Margot sagged against the wall next to her and squeezed her eyes shut. Quinn went over and scooped her up. When the crutches clattered to the floor, he just stepped over them and headed for the couch. He sat down with her sideways on his lap. Margot clutched his shirt and tucked her face against his chest as she continued to cry. Quinn wrapped his arms around her and dropped his chin to the top of her head. He felt so bad for her; he just couldn’t imagine what she was going through because he’s never lost anyone close to him.
Quinn stroked her tangled hair back from her face. “Shh, I’ve got you,” he soothed, hoping to calm her down some. Her whole body was shaking from the force of her sobs.
Quinn slowly rocked her back and forth. He was surprised that he was doing okay holding her. She was even clutching fistfuls of his shirt. Quinn guessed her sorrow far outweighed his dislike of being touched. He couldn’t imagine her being anywhere but in his arms at this moment, even after the way he left earlier. He wanted to put some space between them, but now he wanted to be there for her when she had no one else. Margot touched something in his heart when they were in London, because ever since then, he found himself caring for her more and more every day. Quinn promised himself that he would get a hold of Jared as soon as he could. He was going to better himself, and try to mend everything that that fucker broke twenty years ago, when he dared to place his hands on Quinn - done letting that asshole win. For the past twenty years, Quinn has been letting that motherfucker win! How the hell has he not realized that until now? Didn’t matter, he was done with it. He was taking his life back.
Margot finally quieted down. It didn’t take Quinn long to realize that she fell asleep on him. Poor thing. He slowly got up from the couch, trying not to jostle her too much, and headed for her bedroom. He placed her on her bed and covered her up, staying an extra minute to watch her. She was so beautiful. Quinn moved back out into the living room, shutting her door slightly behind him.
He walked down the hall where Margot’s office was. He found it earlier when he was over and went looking around her condo. He sat down in front of her computer and pulled up the internet. He checked a couple of websites for plane tickets, trying to find the cheapest one. Once he found a good deal, he used his credit card to buy two round trip tickets to Paris, France. Next on the list of things to do was to call Peter.
“Hello?” Peter answered his cell phone.
“Peter, it’s Quinn.”
“Quinn, hey...what’s up?” Peter asked.
“Listen, Margot’s father just died. She is an absolute mess right now. I just booked us tickets to fly to France in the morning. We’ll be gone for a week.” Quinn informed him. He wasn’t asking because he was doing this no matter what.
“Wait, you’re going, too? Why?” Peter asked, confused with a trace of suspicion.
