by Emilia Finn
I leave my eyes open, even as she squeezes hers shut, and when Pryor is gone, and Pierce is still fucking clueless on the wrong side of the club, I pull back and break our connection with a gasp.
Olivia’s eyes are wild. Her breath racing. She holds on to me, and pants for breath while her eyes flicker between mine. She doesn’t see Pryor, and she doesn’t even bother to search for Pierce. She’s my captive, my prisoner. She’s speechless, and burning hot.
“That was cheating,” I rasp out. “You crossed a line, Olivia. And you damn well know it.”
“I don’t–I didn’t—” She reaches up and presses the pads of her fingers to her lips. “Oh no.”
I take a step back when Pierce finally decides to head this way. Clueless fucking idiot. “I won’t tell if you don’t.” I take my hands off her and let her lean against the wall for stability. “But I’m available for a little more anytime you want it. And since this happened once, the door is now open.” I lean a little closer. “You only have to step over the line once for it to be official. After that, it doesn’t much matter if it was once or a hundred times, right?”
“William… I…”
“I’m available for you. Anywhere.” I take another step back when Brenten is closer. I don’t care about him or preserving their relationship. But this is Olivia’s deal, and I’m not gonna be the reason the guy blows up at her in public. “Any time,” I add when her eyes turn glassy. “You only have to tip your chin, and I’ll follow you anywhere.”
“William, I—”
“And I won’t snitch to him, or to anyone else. That’s your business, it’s for you to break his heart when you’re ready.”
I step in for one last swipe. “Come to me, and I’ll make you cry my name until you explode.” I bite my own lip and study her shifty eyes. “I’d bet my car and all of my worldly possessions on the fact you’ve never come so hard that it was an actual, physical ache. I know for a damn fact no man has done that for you.”
“How?” Her voice is broken, scratchy. “How could you possibly know that?”
I smile and step back far enough that no one walking by could accuse us of anything inappropriate. “Because,” I explain slowly. “When a man and a woman find that kind of heat, they don’t settle for idiots like Pierce.”
I turn to him when he stops by Olivia’s side. I’m thankful for the loud music and moving bodies to hide our words and actions. I meet his eyes, and smile the smile of a smug man. I just kissed your girl. Now fight me for her. “Took you long enough to find us.”
He throws a possessive arm over her shoulder and pulls her in tight.
He’s so proud – or in his case, so stupid – that he’d rather look at me instead of her. If only he’d take a peek, he’d notice her wide eyes, her quivering jaw… her messed-up lipstick.
“Why are you talking to my girlfriend, Quinn? Don’t you have illegal activities to partake in?”
“Not right now,” I counter smoothly. “And me and her? We’re family friends. So the real question, if we were in the same space and we didn’t speak, would be why not?” I tilt my head and grin. “That would be unconscionably rude, don’t you think?”
“Not from my perspective.” He grins and looks down to his girl. “You done with him?”
She nods and wraps her arms around his stomach. But she doesn’t look up. Not for a single second. “I’m done.”
He glances up and lifts a lone brow. “It’s not a secret you have a thing for my girl, Quinn. Everyone knows it. How does it feel to be so publicly shunned?”
“Brenten!” Olivia gasps and whips her eyes up to me, screaming an apology in her head. “Stop it.”
“She knows you want her,” he pushes. “Everyone knows. Yet she walks by you and says no. Then she walks to me and says yes.” He thinks he’s invincible. He thinks he has some kind of immunity because he has her. “Does it keep you awake at night to know whose bed she’s in?”
“Brenten!”
“I’ve removed bigger, better men than you, Pierce.”
“Yes.” He brings a hand up and cups his chin. “That time you murdered a man. I heard about that. In fact, I’m fairly certain the newspaper article is tacked to the fridge at my office.”
“Good.” I step closer and force him to fold his neck back to meet my gaze. “Keep it there, so you won’t forget what I’m capable of. Watch your attitude, Pierce. You live because she says you can. But if you’re relying on my kindness or her loyalty…” I take a step back and click my tongue. “Don’t.”
“A threat?” He pushes forward and drags Olivia with him until she stumbles on rubber legs. “Would you like to repeat that, you know, for record-keeping purposes?”
I bark out a laugh so loud, Olivia jumps. “I’m good. But thanks. Bring the article to me sometime. I’ll sign it… right before I shove it down your throat and tear out your fucking spine.”
I look to Olivia and think of her tongue in my mouth. I know she knows what I’m thinking, because her cheeks fire red, and her pupils grow wider.
“See you at family brunch. I’ll save you a seat.”
“William—” She mouths my name, but barely makes any sound.
I lift my chin, a reminder that’s all she needs to do to bring me running, but then I walk away, through the club, past dancing bodies, through the pulsing light from above, and into the street. I have work to do, and she has a boyfriend that she needs to get rid of without me first blowing her secret wide open.
Maybe I promised that I wouldn’t snitch with words. But there’s not much I can do about my face, and if I have to look into Brenten’s eyes for too long, he’ll know. Surely, my eyes will say everything my lips aren’t allowed.
Leaving her behind and fisting my tingling hands as I think of her delicate skin beneath my palms, I walk around the far end of the club and head west for only three blocks. Inside a dark alleyway on the south side of a building that houses a drugstore – ironic, I suppose – I duck behind the brick wall and dig my hand into the trashcan Pryor placed here before heading to the club tonight.
It’s our drop place. Our previously organized spot.
Pulling out a bag and replacing the lid on the can, I check inside and shake my head at the cash wrapped and bundled inside the black canvas. A hundred thousand dollars in crisp twenties and fifties that may or may not be traceable or dirty.
I don’t know where Pryor got the bills, but if they’re dirty, it’s not entirely my problem. My job is to pass the cash along to my boss, take my praise, then rejoin daytime civilization and go back to pretending to search for a real job.
Olivia wants a man who has a real, attainable career. Not a guy with questionable morals and a secret source of income. Tomorrow, to help cement my legitimacy in this town, I’ll stop in to a few local businesses and drop off a resumé. I’ll shake hands, introduce myself, use my please and thank you, then I’ll go back to my new apartment and hide away until my phone rings again.
I’ve been in town for a few weeks now, and I’ve yet to land a regular job. My sister is starting to get suspicious, and the whole damn point of coming home to her was to not make her worry. To show her I’ve got my shit under control. To prove to her that I can be a decent human being, and a contributing member of society.
It might be a farce, and maybe I won’t actually keep a regular job, but I’m going to work hard to make her believe. To help her relax. To let her know that she doesn’t have to worry about me anymore, because she’s too damn young to have been through everything she has. It’s my responsibility to not be an added source of stress for her. And as a side bonus, the things that will make my sister more comfortable will also set Olivia at ease. A real job, real, reportable income, explanations to my whereabouts at any given time.
Neither of these women has to know about the time I spend with folks like Pryor. Neither of them has to waste their time or effort concerned about my safety. Though of course, if Olivia was soooo worried, she could probably trap me i
nside her bedroom and refuse to set me free until I spill my guts.
There’s no chance I’ll talk, but I know for a damn fact I would enjoy the hell out of letting her try to convince me.
Olivia
I Have A Secret
“Mom. Mom. Mom.” I bustle through my parents’ front door the next afternoon after work, and steamroll through the living room.
Mom looks up from the couch, a bag of chips resting by her leg, and a single crisp pinched between her fingers. I snatch it away and toss it to the couch. Grabbing her hand, I yank her up and drag her out of the room.
“Livi?” Mom stumbles and slips on the tile in her socks. “Olivia! What are you doing?”
“Shush. Cone of silence.” I drag her along the hall, past the bedroom that was once Ben’s. Past the bathroom. Then into the room I once occupied, back when I was a princess and loved all things ballerinas and pink.
I slingshot my mom into the room, release her hand so she continues to swing toward my bed, then I turn back and slam my door until the walls rattle, and Oz is bound to whoop my ass for not treating our home with respect.
“Olivia.” Instead of sitting, Mom moves back in my direction.
Her hair is tied up in a messy bun on the top of her head, her gun metal gray shirt still bears crumbs from her snack. But her lips are plump, like mine, and remind me of why I’m here.
“I did something bad, Mom.”
She stops her advance, skidding on her socks until she comes to a standstill. “Did you kill Brenten Pierce?”
“What? No!”
She exhales and presses a hand to her chest. “Phew. Okay. Because I’m just saying, no one would have been surprised if you had.”
“Mom!”
“Okay, okay, okay.” She turns away and walks tiny laps through my room. “The bad thing you did… first, can we establish if it was illegal?”
“It wasn’t illegal. Mom…” My voice comes out on a groan. “It was bad. The thing I did was really bad.”
“What was the thing?” She stops lapping and turns to me. “Tell me, babe.”
“I kissed someone.”
She narrows her eyes, and when that doesn’t help her make sense of my words, she tilts her head. “Okay…”
“That someone wasn’t my boyfriend!”
“Ohhhhh.” Her eyes widen. “Wow. Okay. That’s a little bit naughty. Does Brenten know?”
“No! But it practically happened right under his nose! We went out to Rhino’s last night because he wanted to check some stuff out, and he decided it’d look more legitimate if we were dressed for a night at the club. So I dressed up and planned to enjoy a drink and a little dancing.”
“And the boobies,” Mom inserts. “Lots of boobies.”
“You’re not helping,” I growl. “We walked into the club, Brenten got distracted by his work, and I just so happened to see someone I know sitting at the bar.”
Mom lifts a brow and tries to play down her smile. “This someone you know… was the person you kissed?”
“Not right away!”
I’m exploding with nervous energy. I want to climb the walls. I want to tell Brenten. I want to scream to the skies. But most of all, worst of all…
Nope, don’t go there.
“Mom… I thought this person was doing something bad. It looked like he was talking with a guy who looked all sorts of shady, but when I walked over to confront him about it, William pulled me away and wouldn’t let me get near.”
“William.” Mom exhales and looks to the sky. “Of course the guy was William.” Then she looks back down to me. “Okay. Go on.”
“William wouldn’t let me near the shady guy. He tossed me into a dark corner, talked dirty like he does.”
Mom’s grin grows. “Like he does. Go on.”
“You’re having way too much fun with this!”
“I’m listening to your story!” she counters with a laugh. “Sheesh, Liv. You’re the one who barged in right before Julia Roberts kissed Richard Gere. My brain was somewhere else, and now you’ve got my head inside a strip club, and you’re kissing boys in dark corners.”
“He said things about Brenten, and how he basically doesn’t give a damn about my relationship. He challenged me and said things that he knew I would bite back at, and when I did…”
“He kissed you.”
I nod and have to brace my quivering jaw or risk dissolving into a puddle of anxiety. “He kissed me. It was big, and explosive, and demanding, and his hand was on my back, and I was wearing that black top of mine.”
“Oh man.”
“Right! His hands were all over my skin, and in my hair, so I couldn’t get away, and he was commanding, and he kisses really well, just like I knew he would. Then just before Brenten found us, William pulled away and said that I would come to him eventually.”
Mom chews on her bottom lip for a moment, but I think it has less to do with the fact she needs time to collect her thoughts, and more to do with needing to edit them. “So… you, uh…” She bobs her head a little. “Okay. You kissed the bad boy. I can’t say I’m shocked or anything.”
“I have a boyfriend!”
“Do you… Are you…” She stops. Straightens her thoughts. Then she sits on the edge of my bed and pats the space beside her until I come over and sit down. She turns just her head and meets my gaze with her own steely blue pair that rarely miss a thing. “Are you looking for answers, baby? Or a safe space to vent? I can be either, but I need your guidance.”
“I want…” My breath hitches, and my chest jumps. “Both, maybe. I don’t know. But you’re the only person I’ve told. And I’m cranky, because I couldn’t turn my brain off enough to sleep until four, and then my alarm went off at six anyway.”
“Damn work for getting in your way.”
“Mom.”
She snickers. “Okay, fine. Let’s analyze this. William Quinn is a guy who has made no secret about being somewhat impressed by what he sees when he looks at you.”
“Succinct,” I sigh. “But sure. Okay.”
“He’s made you aware of his intentions to be somewhat around for you to see. And if you should happen to get an itch, he’ll happily oblige you a scratch.”
I roll my eyes. “Thank you, Mother.”
“He was enamored years ago when he first saw you, and he remains enamored even now, years later.”
“Yes.”
“Years ago, you didn’t have a boyfriend. But now, you do.”
“Correct.”
“You have a boyfriend, Olivia. That you tell everyone about. ‘He’s my boyfriend. I have a boyfriend. I’m not available, because I have a boyfriend.’”
It’s like she wants to annoy me. Or upset me. Or straight up piss me off.
“Thank you for that recap. You’ve been unexpectedly helpful.”
“Can I ask you something? And we’re still in the cone of silence. I won’t tell a soul.”
“You’re gonna ask anyway, why bother with the permission?”
“Wow.” She snorts. “You’re super cranky today.”
When I say nothing, only glare at her, she snickers and shakes her head.
“If Will was your boyfriend, or someone like him,” she tacks on when I lift a brow, “just any guy with the same dominant traits, a guy with that same personality where he’s not shy about taking up space and making himself known in a room, would you feel the need to tell us six thousand times a day that he’s your boyfriend?”
I furrow my brows and try to understand her angle. “Are you implying I would be ashamed to tell people William was my man?”
She smiles and pats my leg. “The opposite. I suspect that, if you were with him, we would already know. Just by being in the same space as you both, watching you together, watching him watch you,” she adds with a sweet smile, “we would know. Telling us would be superfluous and unnecessary.”
“I don’t understand your point.”
“You’re the most honest, trustworthy, a
nd loyal person I know, Olivia.” She grabs my chin when I try to turn away. “Baby, you don’t kiss boys if you have a boyfriend. You don’t betray trusts… ever.”
“Mom…”
“So why are you lying?”
“I’m not lying! I really kissed him. Or, well,” I amend, “he kissed me.”
“No, baby. Why are you lying about Brenten? Why are you putting on this act of being the devoted girlfriend to a guy you barely tolerate? Why are you reminding us all, every damn day, that you’re with him, when we both know that when you really choose a man, you won’t have to convince us you’re in love?”
“Mom, stop—”
“The issue here isn’t that you kissed a boy who isn’t Brenten. It’s that you kiss Brenten when you don’t even like him.”
“I changed my mind.” I thrust up from my bed and walk toward my bedroom door. With my hand on the handle, I turn back to my mother and study her eyes. “I came to you because I feel like a shitty person. I kissed a guy when I shouldn’t have. And what’s worse, I want to do it again. Lots and lots. I’m in a relationship, Mom, whether you like it or not, and a relationship means I’m to remain truthful and with honor. Neither of which I showed last night. I needed to purge my guilt, and my mom is usually a safe space for that.”
“I’m always going to be your safe space, baby.” She slowly rises from my bed and steps in my direction. “Always. There isn’t a single thing you can’t tell me. But I’m not going to be the mom who pats your head and lets you get away with bullshit. I’m going to call you on it, because that’s what we do. We’re honest, and because of that honesty, we’re strong and resilient. This world is full of bad people, baby, and they’re going to try to squish you. We need to be strong.”
“I liked it when he kissed me,” I murmur to hide the shake in my voice. I look anywhere but into her eyes, because I can’t stand up to this strong woman and admit what I did. “I liked it. And maybe if it was later in the evening, if I’d had even one drink and was able to blame my bad behavior on alcohol, then I’m not entirely positive I wouldn’t sleep with him.”