Quinn

by Doyle, Dawn

  “That’s not what happened,” I snapped. “And you fucking know it.”

  “You followed him,” Josh added. “From your party after he left. You waited until Layton and I were busy, then you left to follow Quinn home.”

  “Phoebe, is that true?” Miley asked, her brows furrowed in confusion. “You told us Quinn asked you to make yourself available, that he’d meet you at his place.”

  “You’re a fucking liar,” I spat, making sure she saw every fucking tick in my jaw. “What else did you lie about, Pheobe?”

  I grasped the edges of the table, and the wood groaned under my hands, my sore knuckles protesting under the pressure of the tight grip.

  “I’m not a liar!” she hissed, her voice rising and attracting the attention of the tables nearby. Her eyes darted about, then came back to mine, the dark circles piercing. “If I were lying, I wouldn’t know about your piercing, would I?”

  I blinked a few times, taken aback.

  What the fuck?

  “Piercing?”

  “Yeah,” she said, swaying in her seat, her tense features softening as though we were sharing some intimate secret. “You know, the one in your dick? The one you liked me to lick all over?” I barked a laugh, stared at her, then laughed again. Josh joined in, and we had to hold our fists over our mouths. “What’s so damn funny?” Phoebe snipped.

  Euphoria ran through me, elation and sheer relief at the news Kinsley had found out for me. In that instant, of remembering she’d left me, it vanished.

  “Phoebe,” I said softly and waited for her response. She leaned forward, and so did I as though I wanted to press my mouth to hers. “Do you want to know something?”

  “Mhm,” she replied, licking her lips.

  “I know you lied.” I pulled back and grinned, making sure to get the attention of those I never wanted it from but was willing to accept it for this one, glorious moment. “I don’t have a piercing, so it wasn’t my dick you were sucking on.”

  She gasped, her face turning beet red.

  “Phoebe?” Jojo asked in disbelief. “You made all of that up?”

  She shook her head. “No. Kinsley said…” Her eyes widened. “That bitch! She told me you had a—”

  “She caught you in your lies,” Miley said with a giggle. “Oh, God, I knew it didn’t add up, but I just assumed it was because we were all drinking, and events were a little blurry that night.”

  “I didn’t lie!” Phoebe screeched.

  I stood off to the side and crossed my arms, enjoying the show of the entire lunch area bearing witness to Phoebe’s outing.

  “Wow, I didn’t see this coming today.” Josh slapped my shoulder. “I guess she didn’t pop your cherry after all, man—oof!” I cut him off with a shove to the gut. “Damn it, Quinn,” he wheezed, trying to catch his breath.

  “Shut up,” I hissed. “Keep your fucking voice down, asshole.”

  He straightened, still clutching his stomach. “So, who was the lucky girl?” Heat traveled up my neck, and he narrowed his eyes on me. “No,” he drew out. “Get the fuck out. Kinsley?” He fucking grinned like he was insane. “Man, I was so right. I totally knew you two were fucking.”

  “Josh, shut the fuck up!” I whispered, still taking in the crash and burn, the laughter, the ridicule—the truth. I surveyed the damage, satisfied it was going to last a fucking long time after I’d gone. “I gotta go. Let me know what happens.”

  “Dude, I’ll happily get the recording.” He jerked his chin to Layton next to us who’d been filming the entire thing. Layton stuck his thumb up.

  “Fuckin’ ay.”

  “So leave already.” Josh shoved me, then held out his keys. “Take my ride, I’ll head back with Layton.”

  He didn’t have to remind me. I turned my back on a shrieking Phoebe, her soon-to-be ex-friends, and the laughter from the surrounding tables.

  I ran through the hallway as fast as I could, skidding around the corners.

  “Mr. Dexter, slow down!” Mrs. Montgomery yelled as I shot past her. “No running!”

  “No can do!” I yelled back. “So, kiss my ass.”

  I barged through the doors, the metal slamming against the brick on the outside, making an ear-splitting clang echo behind me.

  “Please be at home,” I said while pressing the fob. I yanked the door open and started the car. The tires screeched on the asphalt as I stomped my foot on the gas. “Fuck!” I tapped my hands impatiently on the steering wheel, checked my watch, then continued my nervous twitching.

  She had to be home. She had to listen to me, what I had to say. I couldn’t give her up; I wouldn’t.

  Shit.

  I jammed my hand through my hair, took a few steadying breaths, and scrubbed my hand down my face.

  Get it together, or you’ll fuck it up for good.

  I banged on the front door, then rang the doorbell, my patience deteriorating with every second that passed by. “Kinny!” I yelled, stepping back and looking up toward her window. I yelled again, but she didn’t come.

  There was a click of a lock, and the door opened, but instead of Kinsley standing there, her mom appeared, glaring at me.

  “What do you want, Quinn?” she asked, her tone sharp.

  “I want to see Kinny,” I demanded, my hand on my hip while I raked the other through my hair. “Is she home?” Mrs. Jensen said nothing, but she continued to stare at me, her blonde hair unmoving, the ends resting on top of her shoulders. “Are you really going to give me the silent treatment after what you did?”

  Her brows flew up, her mouth twitching. “Well, well, well,” she drew out. “His ability to wait for an answer is virtually non-existent.” Letting go of the door, she folded her arms over her chest and cocked her head to the side. “And, what I did was do my goddamn job. Don’t think for one second I don’t know what’s been going on.”

  I ran my hands down my face, my feet moving side to side, then I turned full circle, needing to do something to get this moving somewhere. “Are you gonna tell me where she is?” I asked. “Or are you gonna stand there and tell me about my life, the way you told Kinny for me?” I took a step closer. “Which wasn’t the whole fucking story.”

  Mrs. Jensen shook her head. “Oh, I did that because of David’s case. I’m sure you’re well aware of that one,” she said with a tilt of her head, and I stopped, my chest beating in a dull rhythm, hard and slow, reverberating in my ears. “Come on in before details fall onto ears that shouldn’t be listening.” She pulled the door open further.

  “I just need to know where she is,” I repeated.

  Mrs. Jensen gestured inside. “Get your ass in here.”

  I clasped my hands behind my head and dropped it back, closing my eyes. “Fuck!” I yelled, then screwed my face up, holding back what I wanted to do, what was threatening to come to the surface. I fought back the sting in the bridge of my nose, the same way I’d done thousands of times before. It hadn’t happened in years, and I could barely hold onto the control I’d trained myself to keep from slipping. But, it was, and as soon as I felt the moisture filling my eyes, I pressed the heels of my palms into them to push them back.

  “Quinn,” she repeated softer this time. “Get inside.”

  “Gah!” I shouted, then dropped my hands. I walked into the house and through to the kitchen. I slammed my hands down on the countertop, my shoulders bunching and my back so fucking rigid the tension was giving me a damn headache.

  “Sit your behind down while I tell you a few things,” she said, pointing to the chair. When I didn’t move, she jabbed her finger toward it. “I deal with people like you all of the time, so don’t think your attitude bothers me one little bit.”

  “I’m not trying to bother you,” I ground out. “I just want to—”

  “Yeah, yeah,” she cut in, rolling her eyes. “You want to see my daughter. Well, I’ve got news for you, Quinn. You’re not going anywhere near her until we have a little chat of our own.”

  “W
hat do you want?” I asked, throwing my arms out. “You’ve already stuck your nose where it doesn’t belong, what else is there you can possibly need to know that you haven’t already had somebody dig up?”

  “Owen turned up this morning.”

  I shrugged. “So? Isn’t that what people do on a daily basis?” I kept my expression the same, never faltering, even when that bastard’s name was mentioned.

  “Cute,” she said, leaning her elbows on the counter in front of me. Her gray eyes were fixed on me, watching, studying, and it started to freak me the fuck out. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

  I shrugged again. “Uh, why would I know anything about him turning up somewhere? I don’t keep tabs on people I don’t like. Unlike some.” I gestured to her, just to drive home my point.

  “Hmm.” She straightened but didn’t look away. “This is a particularly personal case, and one I can’t touch. I’m sure you understand, right?”

  “Sure, but I don’t see what any of this has to do with me.” Her lack of movement and change of expression were unsettling, even for me. The only person that had ever caught me off my guard like that was Kinsley. The forceful attitude, refusal to back down, hitting back when I pushed. “So why don’t you just come out with it?”

  Her eyes softened, and a warm smile spread across her face, and I had no clue what do do with that. Her flipped personality had me swallowing a lump in my throat.

  Fuck, she’s good.

  Her eyes traveled over my hoodie, stopping on the branded area. “I received some information this morning, and it was…fascinating. A video starring Owen Stanford.” She turned her mouth down in a fake pout. “Poor boy looked a little worse for wear,” she said, sarcastically. “And somehow, the authorities got hold of this video as well as the faculty of Crosshall Brow College.”

  My lips twitched, immense satisfaction almost breaking out at her lack of empathy for him. “And you assume I had something to do with that because of what he did to Kinny?”

  “Yes,” she replied immediately, no hesitation.

  My eyes narrowed as a smile spread across her face. “Just out of curiosity, what would you do if I did?” There was no way I’d ever admit it, so she was fighting a battle she was never going to win. Not this time.

  “Absolutely nothing.” She turned around and walked toward the coffee maker, leaving me standing there, wondering what the fuck was going on. I got up off the seat. “One more thing before you leave, Quinn.”

  “Yeah, what’s that?” I asked, pausing in the kitchen doorway.

  She poured steaming coffee into a travel mug, then looked at me over her shoulder. “Did she ever tell you only her father called her Kinny?” I shook my head. “Nobody else was allowed to. So, when you called her that, and she didn’t say a word, I knew you were special to her.” Mrs. Jensen laughed softly and pointed to my face. “There it is.” She turned back to screw the lid on her cup. “I’m going out now. Kinsley’s upstairs.”

  Chapter 14

  Kinsley

  I stared at the video playing on the screen, the confession, the people surrounding the guy tied to the chair, laughing while secrets were spilled in full, graphic detail through the buds in my ears.

  “Ten bucks!” he yelled through his tears. “It was a bet for ten bucks. I said I could get into her pants, and I don’t lose a bet. I wouldn’t lose, so yeah, I did what I needed to, to win.”

  Owen Stanford, crying, scared, Karma caressing him every time he opened his mouth.

  A large hand gripped his jaw, making his cheeks squash inward and his lips to pout. “Ten dollars? You tried to rape a girl to win a ten dollar bet?” he asked, his voice disguised, making him sound almost robotic. When Owen didn’t answer, the masked man shook his face, hard. “Answer me!”

  “It wasn’t like that!” Owen shouted as much as he could with his jaw in the tight grip. “I admit, I lost my temper when she kept saying no. I mean, I knew she was totally up for it and just playing hard to get.”

  A loud slap made me jump at the same time Owen’s head snapped to the side, his already swollen eyes growing redder with each strike.

  “How the fuck did you get that idea?” another man asked. “Did she say yes? Did she tell you she wanted to fuck you?”

  “Well, no,” Owen replied, his quiet voice quivering. He kept flinching, waiting for the next strike. “She was always nice to me, smiling, being, you know, nice. She wanted me, I could tell.” He grunted, then coughed when a fist rammed into his stomach, his voice strangled as he spoke. “The bet was just a thing.”

  I could do nothing but watch as Owen spilled everything he’d try to do to me.

  “You attacked her!” the taller guy said, right next to Owen’s ear, making him wince. “For ten fucking bucks!” He lifted his hand and struck Owen in the face, sending his head snapping to the side. It hung down for a few seconds, liquid dripping from his mouth.

  “Just fucking tell us what you did that day,” the masked guy said, gripping Owen’s hair and yanking his head up, his face in full view of the camera. “We’ll know if you lie to us, so play nice and speak clearly for the audience.”

  Owen’s mouth was covered in blood, his teeth coated in bright red. “I spoke to her,” he croaked, then swallowed hard. “I asked her to go somewhere with me—she said no. When I grabbed her arm, she pushed me off. I said it wasn’t nice, and I just wanted to talk.”

  I cringed as I remembered telling Quinn those exact words. “You piece of shit,” I whispered, then continued watching.

  “She told me to go fuck myself, so I said I’d rather fuck her. She pushed me again, and I just grabbed her. I was going to lose the bet. I wanted to make her so I’d win.” Owen swallowed, and as he did, his face streaked with tears falling from his almost swollen-shut eyes. “I pulled her down, and I tore her shirt. But then, the bitch elbowed me in the face.”

  Another slap caused me to flinch, and Owen’s head fell to the side before being dragged up again.

  “I’d refrain from name-calling, if I were you,” the first masked guy growled, the voice changer distorting his words. Owen cried out when his head was jerked backward with more force. “Now, continue.”

  “Please, it was just a stupid bet,” Owen begged, choking on his sobs as he broke down crying. “Nothing happened.”

  “But you intended it to!” the first guy yelled, shoving his fist into Owen’s gut. “It would have if you hadn’t been stopped.”

  “Tell the truth like a good little boy,” the third guy said, his tone condescending. “And you can go home.” He held his hand out, gesturing to the guy gripping Owen’s hair. “Like my associate here, said, we’ll know if you lie to us.” He bent over, resting his gloved hands on his legs. “Because we already know. So, if you don’t mind, admit to what you did.”

  “Let me go,” Owen whispered. “This was already cleared up. Everybody knows it was nothing, so keeping me here is a waste of time.”

  The first guy’s large hand wrapped around Owen’s throat. With the movement, a sliver of his skin became exposed between the glove and sleeve—a thin black band around the wrist. I slapped my hand over my mouth, my breath catching in my throat. I pressed pause, moving closer to the screen to see it better.

  “Oh my God,” I whispered behind my hand. I blinked back the shocked tears forming in my lids, and pressed a quivering finger to the screen.

  “Don’t fucking test my patience, you worthless piece of scum,” he growled next to Owen’s ear. “Your time is almost up. Admit to what you did, or the only thing you’ll be seeing for the next few months will be the inside of a hospital.”

  “He’s pissing himself,” the second guy said, his distorted laugh sounding like it was a recording from a horror movie. “Again.”

  “Fuck, he stinks,” the third guy said, wafting his hand in front of his face.

  “Talk,” the larger guy said, still squeezing Owen’s throat, making him gasp for breath. “Now.” H
e let go, and Owen sucked in air, blood spattering out as he exhaled.

  “W-When she elbowed me, I-I put my h-hand up her skirt and r-ripped her p-panties off,” he stammered. “W-when I-I t-tried to put my hand b-back up there, s-she head-butted me, breaking my nose.” I smiled, the memory of his bridge crunching under my forehead, filling me with sick satisfaction. “I-I couldn’t see, and w-when I lifted my head, s-she pushed me off of her. S-she kicked me. Man, she f-fucking kicked me over and over, m-my face, my stomach… She was a fucking animal.”

  “No,” the taller guy said, leaning down. “I’m the fucking animal, and I’m going to make you pay for what you did, you sick fuck.”

  I blinked when the screen turned black, but the sound continued. Owen’s screams and begs to stop seared into my brain.

  It lit up again, this time no sound. Just an empty room, a vacant chair, and a huge puddle underneath it. I jumped when a hooded figure popped up, their face still obscured with a full face mask, nothing visible, not even their eyes.

  “This video will be edited before it reaches the right people,” the guy said, his distorted voice sounding like the tallest one of the trio. “Now you’ve seen this, delete it. Not just for our sake, but for yours, too, Kinny.”

  The video ended, and I clamped my hand over my mouth, a hysterical laugh escaping with a garbled sob, the combination sounding more like a painful cry.

  And I was in pain. My heart twisted knowing precisely who was in that video, why he was in that video, and why he’d done those things to Owen—made him admit what he’d done, made him pay… I clicked the icon to delete the video as requested, revealing my self-edited desktop background.

  I stood slowly from my chair, a movement in the doorway catching my attention. “Quinn.” He leaned against the doorframe, watching me, his focus slipping from images of him on the screen to me.

  “Hey, Kinny,” he said, his eyes raking over me, taking in the white towel wrapped around my body. “Will you talk to me now?”

  I shook my head, not blinking, my jaw hanging. Quinn dropped his gaze to the floor, his mouth turning down. “No talking,” I whispered, my body alight as I stared, watching, seeing how his deep blues focused on me when they raised, dark pools growing larger in the center, making the small patch of green in the left vanish. “Close the door.” My core burned with need, the apex of my thighs heating up as the pulsing sensations increased.