No Going Back

by Dani Matthews

  “I didn’t tell you how I felt just so you could use it against me,” he bites out, those hazel eyes downright livid.

  “Are you sure about that?” I ask quietly. I now know that we could have something crazy good. Yes, the sexual tension between us is off the charts, but it’s also more. Harper’s right. No one will ever understand him like I do, and no one will understand why I do the things I do—like Colt does. We’re like two puzzle pieces that fit together, and I understand that now. However, I also know when I’ve pushed him too far, and I am treading on dangerous ground.

  Colt has remained silent as he glowers accusingly at me, refusing to respond to my question.

  I’m finished with his hair, and I calmly walk to the doorway. I pause and turn back to him. He’s still standing next to the toilet, his head now turned away so that I can’t see his expression. Even from where I stand, there’s no mistaking his clenched jaw. The sight of him looking so upset goes straight to my heart.

  “You may not trust yourself, but I trust you,” I say in a soft voice.

  He still won’t look at me.

  With great reluctance, I leave the bathroom and walk down the hall, heading for the stairs. I don’t regret ambushing him like I had, but I do feel bad for causing him such distress.

  My lips still tingle from the heat of his lips, and I know I need to get out of the house for a while. As I walk to my room, I take my phone out of my pocket and text Sebastian. Where are you? He replies almost immediately with the name of a bar that I’m familiar with. Can I come hang with you? His response is instantaneous. You never need to ask.

  It’s a little early to be hitting a bar, but at least it’s getting me out of the house and away from Colt. I’d hated leaving him down in the basement struggling with his emotions. I wish I could help him sort it out, but life doesn’t work that way. All I can do is show him how things could be, and the rest is up to him.

  After I change, I leave the house and drive to the bar that also doubles as a grill. Sebastian’s sitting at the bar, eating a burger and watching sports on the nearest TV. He glances at me as I snag the stool beside him. “You’re not usually out this early,” he comments.

  “Neither are you.”

  “I didn’t feel like making anything. They’ve got beer and food. Works for me.”

  I flag one of the bartenders and order a burger and soda. Just as he walks away to give my order to the cook, my phone goes off in my purse. It’s likely Harper or Ash. It’s from Harper, and she wants to know where I am. I’m out with Sebastian, I text back. Gabe’s working, so she’s likely bored. Come meet us, I invite and include the bar’s name.

  Her reply comes back promptly, and I slip my phone back into my purse. “Harper’s on her way,” I inform Sebastian.

  He grins. “My favorite past time, being surrounded by women.”

  I make a face at him. He’s such a manwhore. I watch as he takes a large bite of his burger. “Both Channing and Gabe have settled down, when are you going to meet the woman of your dreams and quit screwing most of the Riverside population?” I ask mischievously.

  He coughs into his fist and then takes a long drink of his beer. “Try never.”

  Sebastian’s never shared why he’s avoiding commitment, and I’ve never pressed, though I do wonder about him sometimes. I’m quiet as I think of Colt. I wish he’d talk to me about what happened with Rosita. Yes, he’d pushed her away, but only because she was clinging to him. It’s certainly not his fault she lost her footing. Unfortunately, Rosita had enjoyed playing the victim, and her parents had pressed charges against Colt. God, that was a mess and such a grim time for Colt. I’ll never forget the defeated look on his face when the police had come knocking on the Thompsons’ door.

  Rosita and her parents had blamed Colt, labeling him as abusive, and the label had stuck. Nobody punished Colt more than he had himself. No matter what I or anyone else said, he saw the incident as entirely his fault. Had he not pushed her, she wouldn’t have fallen in the first place. Even as a full-grown man, he still carries the accusations with him.

  My thoughts shift as a burger and glass of soda are set in front of me, and shortly thereafter, Harper arrives with Ash in tow. We all move to a booth, and a waitress wanders over to take Harper’s and Ash’s orders.

  Harper sighs after the waitress walks away. “Eating out so much is going to make me fat.”

  Sebastian shakes his head. “A few extra pounds will make you even hotter, luv.”

  She grins. “Always the sweet talker.”

  “Absolutely. It’s how my dick sees so much action.”

  I can’t hold back a snort. “Something’s got to make up for what you’re lacking.”

  He looks offended. “Come into the bathroom, and I’ll show you what you think I’m lacking.”

  I snicker and lean over to muss his newly trimmed hair. “I was referring to your inability to carry on a serious conversation.”

  “Yeah,” he says drolly. “Women just dig hearing about climate change and politics when we’re at the club and I’m trying get into their pants.”

  “You’d be surprised how many women would prefer an actual conversation over pickup lines,” Ash says, joining the conversation.

  “Then they might think I actually want more than their bodies.”

  Ash rolls her eyes. “You’re hopeless.”

  “And proud of it. Where’s Channing? You two are usually attached at the hips,” he teases, waggling his eyebrows.

  “He’s tutoring,” she says with a laugh.

  I turn to him. “Did you know that Harper and Gabe are looking for their own place?”

  Sebastian finishes taking a swig of his beer, and he sets the bottle down, looking impressed. “Really. Congratulations, luv,” he tells Harper.

  She smiles. “Thanks.”

  Sebastian focuses his attention on Ash. “What about you? When are you and twin number two bailing on us?”

  Ash shakes her head. “Not for a while. We want to take things slow.”

  A phone goes off, and Sebastian immediately digs his cell from his pocket. He scans the screen and pushes his plate aside. “I’m out. My dick’s been summoned,” he announces.

  “I pity the woman that gets stuck with you and your past,” I tell him.

  He stands. “She doesn’t exist.” He salutes us and saunters away.

  “Seriously, if he ever does find someone, he’s going to have to work his ass off,” Harper says, staring after him.

  “He’s worse than Colt, Channing, and Gabe combined,” Ash agrees.

  My thoughts shift to Colt. I’m not going to confide to them that I’d kissed him. Some things are meant to remain private.

  Ten

  Colt

  I pummel the punching bag as if it’s threatened to dismember me. What I’d really like to do is get in the ring with someone who can handle my aggression. Unfortunately, no one seems to be around that has as much experience as I do.

  I’m still reeling over the kiss. It was hot as hell, and now I want Quinn more than ever. I should have known she’d take the information I’d revealed and run with it. Truthfully, a part of me had known she would. At the time, I’d told myself it was to help her save face, but I think I’d been secretly hoping she’d make a move.

  Today, she’d called me out on it.

  Fuck.

  As much as I want her, it can’t happen again. If I ever hurt Quinn, it’d destroy me. I’m still haunted by what happened with Rosita, and that had gone down years ago. It also doesn’t help that I have a shit ton of memories of my father knocking around my mother. Blood and pain was a part of my life growing up. I hadn’t escaped his fists either, but my mother had suffered the worst of it—and now she’s dead while he rots in prison.

  I don’t want to be taking a trip down memory lane, so my thoughts shift back to Quinn and this mess with that fucker who calls himself Slade. My fist slams into the vinyl as I visualize the bastard’s face. It makes me sick to thi
nk of anyone taking advantage of Quinn, especially considering her small frame.

  I grit my teeth as sweat drips into my left eye. How could she let him do those things to her if it made her uneasy? I hate that his looks had played a part in her willingness. Does she think that’s the kind of stuff I’m into? I suppose she’d have no clue. Little does she know, I’ve never tied up a woman, held someone down, none of that shit. Call me vanilla, but I like a good, hard, and quick fuck. I know I come off as controlling and domineering, but that ain’t me in bed. I don’t take things to that level, I’ve never had that urge. I have enough control with my job, I don’t need it in all aspects of my life.

  A vision flashes in my mind of Quinn on top of me, taking me to oblivion as she rides me.

  Fuck.

  My perfect fantasy would be letting Quinn take control. I am by no means a submissive in the sack, but giving Quinn that power would be like nothing I’ve ever experienced.

  My fists freeze in mid-air as it dawns on me that’s how much I’d trust her with my body, with me. I’m alarmed by this new revelation, and it’s an unwelcoming thought.

  “Hey Moreno, someone mentioned you were down here demolishing the bag.”

  I’m abruptly yanked back to the present, and as I focus on Jude, I lower my fists. He’s a big ass motherfucker and the one that’d trained me when I’d began this gym. Though we aren’t tight, he’s intuitive as shit and had me pegged with my background within a few days of meeting me. He isn’t someone I bother to hide my past from because the man has seen it all. He radiates mentor, but he also radiates a good ass kicking if you should step out of line around him.

  “Just needed a workout,” I reply.

  “Looks to me like you need more than that. Want to hit the ring?”

  “Yeah,” I say without hesitation. I need to get Quinn off my mind, and getting into the ring with Jude will give me no option but to only focus on not getting my ass handed to me.

  Eleven

  Quinn

  Okay, so maybe I didn’t completely think things through when I kissed Colt yesterday. I hadn’t considered how to handle Colt after the fact. I release a heavy sigh as I leave the salon and walk to my car. My shift had ended, and I’m heading home for the day.

  I’d known that things would be ‘off’ after our kiss, but I hadn’t expected him to go out of his way to avoid me. He’d been long gone by the time I’d wandered into the kitchen for breakfast this morning.

  I unlock the car and climb in, setting my purse on the passenger seat. For a long minute, I sit there and stare at the building, debating my options. I don’t want to track down Colt as soon as I get home, because I don’t want him to feel smothered. Yet, I don’t want to give up on coaxing him into realizing what we could have. The idea of being with Colt has never felt so right. Harper has a point. If I don’t fight for what we could have, I’ll always wonder what could have been.

  I’m not delusional, though. This could backfire badly, and I could lose Colt by pushing him too far. I like to think that we’d never allow anything to shut out the other from our lives, but there’s always that small possibility. I can’t imagine a life without Colt, and that scares the shit out of me. I need to be careful with him and push when the opportunity presents itself, and hold back when my gut warns me to. I know him better than anyone else, and I just need to read his body language and cues, and go from there.

  I start the car and back out of the parking space before heading home. Maybe it would be wise to give him another day to process the kiss. Tomorrow, I’ll find a reason to talk to him, and I’ll go from there depending on how the conversation goes.

  By the time I pull into the driveway, I feel much better about my decision. It also helps that Colt’s not home yet, so there goes any temptation. After I cut the engine, I hear my phone go off in my purse. I’m in no rush to enter the empty house, so I pull out my phone.

  I have a new text message from an unknown number, and it’s a photo. I tap the photo to enlarge it on the screen. It’s a picture of Colt entering Dirk’s. Another photo comes through, and this one is of me standing next to Colt—beside my car in the driveway. A third photo appears, this one of Sebastian and me sitting at the bar yesterday. A message has come with the photo. I’m disappointed Quinn. I close the message, frowning.

  He’s supposed to be growing bored, not continuing to follow me. I twist in my seat and peer out the car’s back window, looking to see if I can see a strange vehicle parked along the street. I don’t see anything out of the ordinary, so I grab my purse and go inside the house. Why had there been such a lull between the bloodied paper and today’s texts? The photo of Colt and I had been taken on Tuesday, and today’s Friday.

  I make my way to my room and set down the purse and phone. I’d really like to tell Slade that he’s being a total dick, but that’s what he wants, and I know better than to engage him. I’m about to change out of my clothes and put on something comfortable when I hesitate. Colt’s going to be pissed if I don’t fill him in about the latest photos. Do I tell him today or wait until tomorrow? I really want to see him…and this would be a justifiable excuse to see how he’ll act towards me.

  Today it is.

  I grab my phone and make my way down to the basement, settling onto the couch while I wait. I bring up the photos on my phone once more and study them. I’m a little troubled that he’s still following me, but I’m not scared for my life or anything. I’m mostly annoyed that he just won’t go away and leave me alone.

  Someone has arrived home, and I pause and listen. Then, I hear Sebastian’s voice talking to someone before the basement door opens.

  Shit!

  He’ll want to know why I’m waiting for Colt. I scramble to my feet, phone and purse clutched in my hand as I hurry to Colt’s room and quietly reclose the door behind me. I can’t turn on the light or Sebastian will notice, so I use my phone’s screen to make my way through the darkness to Colt’s bed. I sit down and wait.

  Sebastian’s footsteps come down the hall and go straight to his room. I suppose I could sneak out and come back later. Sure, it’s completely normal for me to talk to Colt, and Sebastian won’t think anything of it—however, I typically avoid the basement since there’s a lot of action that happens behind closed doors. There’s a chance that my presence will pique his interest.

  I use my phone to make my way to the door. I’m really thinking it’s not wise to be in here after the stunt I’d pulled yesterday. My hand is on the doorknob when I hear Sebastian’s door open, and I freeze. His footsteps go into the bathroom, and I can hear him pissing in the toilet.

  Lovely.

  When he leaves the bathroom, his voice mixes with Colt’s deep, rumbly one.

  Shit.

  I hadn’t heard Colt come home.

  Sebastian seems to be leaving the basement, which is good. Unfortunately, Colt’s walking to his room, and I’m about to be found. I back away from the door as it opens, a chagrined look on my face.

  Colt flips on the light and takes in the sight of me standing there, and his face instantly darkens as the duffle bag he’s holding drops to the floor with a thud.

  He looks pissed, and I don’t blame him. I know exactly how this must look, and I quickly put my hands up in surrender. “I was only hiding from Sebastian so he wouldn’t ask me why I was waiting for you,” I say in a rush. “I got more texts from Slade,” I add, nodding to the phone in my hand. I know I look ridiculous with my hands up, but I’m trying to prevent him from biting my head off before I can explain.

  “Put your damned hands down.”

  I lower my arms and look at him earnestly. “I was waiting on the sofa when Sebastian came home.”

  Colt’s silent as he reaches down and picks up the duffle bag. As he enters the room, I move back and watch as he sets the bag on his bed. He turns back to me and wordlessly holds his hand out for the phone.

  I walk over and hand it to him, watching as he opens the text conversation and studie
s the latest photos. If his expression was irritated before, now it intensifies with a hint of concern. “I told you I’d let you know if he contacted me again,” I say quietly.

  His eyes lift to meet mine. “I think it’s time to report this, Quinn.”

  “That’s kind of hard to do when we don’t even know who he really is,” I point out.

  “It’ll still help build a case against him.”

  “They’re just pictures.”

  The corners of his eyes tighten, and his lips flatten. “He nearly strangled you to unconsciousness,” he states tersely.

  My eyes widen. “You want me to tell them that?”

  “It’ll help put things into perspective.”

  “Colt, it was during sex.”

  “That doesn’t make it okay,” he says in a firm, unwavering tone.

  “Of course not, but I’m not going to go into detail about my sex life to the police!” I exclaim.

  He looks at me steadily, as if he’s trying to understand why I’m dragging my feet over this. “Quinn, he’s not going to stop on his own.”

  I cross my arms over my chest. “He’s obviously distracted with other things or he’d be harassing me daily.”

  “Or he’s dragging this shit out to mess with your head,” he corrects.

  “Just stop.” I turn away and walk over to the wooden board that he throws knives at. I study the marred wood as I try to figure out what to do. I hadn’t expected Colt to want to go to the police.

  He releases a low sigh from behind me. “Since when have you ever been self-conscious about anything?”

  I turn to glare at him. “I draw the line when it comes to sharing details of my sex life with strangers. Asphyxiation during sex is not a crime.”

  Colt’s jaw flexes, and I can tell he’s running low on patience with this conversation that seems to be headed nowhere. “It is when it’s not consensual. What about the blood? Quinn, none of that sounds okay to me.”

  “He’s not actually threatening my life. All he’s doing is sending photos.”