Keeping Quinn: The Next Generation

by Edwards, Riley

  I’d been so wrapped up pouring my heart out I’d missed it. At some point, Quinn had relaxed. Her pretty emerald eyes were soft, her mouth was slack, and it was really damn hard not to lean forward and kiss her. It had only been days but it felt like an eternity since I’d felt her lips on mine.

  But as much as I wanted to capture her mouth in a scorching kiss, show her how serious I was about moving us forward, I refrained.

  Quinn was now in the driver’s seat. It was up to her when she wanted our physical relationship to resume.

  My body hated that idea but my heart knew it was the right thing to do.

  17

  My head was a jumbled up mess. Serious as shit, I couldn’t form a coherent sentence and I was having trouble comprehending all that Brice had said.

  My heart was begging me to close up shop, lock the gate, and bar Brice from worming his way any deeper.

  My body, which had reigned supreme over the last three months, was protesting my proclamation there would be no more sex with Brice.

  I could trick myself into thinking I was at a crossroads—that I had a choice in the matter—but Brice wasn’t going to give me the option to push him away. And I didn’t know how I felt about that.

  I wanted to play it safe and push him away, demand he get out and stay out. But a bigger part of me wanted Brice to prove he thought I was worth the risk, to prove he was willing to open himself to me, to prove to me I wasn’t wrong when I fell in love with him.

  Suddenly we were up and moving. My legs around his waist, his hands under my ass, but it was weirdly nonsexual. It wasn’t like the other times I’d wrapped myself around him as we made a lust-filled beeline to my bedroom to rip each other’s clothes off. He wasn’t squeezing my ass cheeks, he wasn’t kissing me, he was simply walking us to my room.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  Brice placed me on my feet and stepped back to look at me. It took mere seconds for me to hate the distance he’d put between us. And I missed the way his eyes always heated when he stared at me. They weren’t cold as such, but they weren’t hungry, either.

  “Go ahead and get comfortable. I’m gonna order some food and go back to my place and grab a few things. I’ll be right back.”

  Relief washed over me. Which was stupid because some alone-time seemed paramount yet I didn’t want it.

  His hand came up and brushed my hair over my shoulder and I fought back a shiver. He was always touching my hair, running his fingers through it, fisting it while he was inside of me, or simply brushing it off my face. I wasn’t sure which way I liked the most but if I was pressed for an answer, I’d say him tugging on it while he was taking me.

  Brice’s lips touched my forehead before he turned and left.

  And then I was alone in my room. Nothing had changed in the three days I’d been gone. My dirty clothes still littered the floor, the shoes I’d worn the night we’d had dinner with my parents were still where I’d kicked them off, never making it fully into the closet. Everything was still in its place yet something felt different.

  I felt different.

  Then I remembered what the detective had told me when I reported the stabbing. “Witnessing this level of violence can change a person. Don’t allow it to.”

  Maybe that’s what it was. Maybe I was just tired from the nightmares waking me up. I didn’t know what it was, if it was good or bad, but something had absolutely changed.

  Tears I hadn’t meant to allow to spill started streaming down my cheeks. How could anyone be so cruel? How could someone so callously take a life? Over what? Money? Drugs? And he was still out there, the man with the dead eyes, he was just walking the streets living his life after he’d ended someone else’s.

  What if he’s never caught?

  And he saw me. He looked right in my eyes—no remorse, totally uncaring his knife dripped blood off the blade. The man just stared.

  “Baby?”

  Brice’s arms wrapped around me and I buried my face in his neck, unable to stop the sob that tore from my soul.

  “What do you need?” he whispered.

  “I don’t know. I can’t stop seeing it.” My voice hitched and I hated how weak I was. “I just want it to go away.”

  Brice shuffled me back and lifted me onto the bed. And before I could mourn the loss of his arms around me, he was next to me, covering me with his big body. Sheltering me. Protecting me.

  “Tell me about it.”

  I shook my head; talking was the last thing I wanted to do. I wanted to forget. I wanted to get lost in something else, I needed a reprieve.

  “Kiss me, Brice. Make me forget.”

  His eyes went half mast, but his jaw clenched and he made no move to kiss me.

  “No, baby, not like that. We need—”

  “I know what I need,” I snapped. “I don’t need to talk about it anymore. I need to stop talking about, stop thinking about it. Fucking hell, I’m so tired of talking. Do you have any idea how much it sucks when everyone around you treats you like you need to be coddled? Goddamn, I know everyone means well, I know they love me, but I feel like I’m under constant observation. I can’t move on until everyone just lets me forget.”

  “No, Quinn.” Brice’s voice gentled. “You can’t move on until you get it all out. Until you admit you’re scared. Until you acknowledge what you saw was horrific and heinous. Baby, you can’t keep it locked up.”

  “What do you think I’ve been doing for three days? You don’t think I’ve talked to the detectives? You don’t think my dad didn’t listen when I told him everything I remembered—every last detail?”

  “I think you’ve told the story, but not how it made you feel. And there’s a difference.”

  My stomach burned and anger boiled. That was rich coming from Brice. The man who refused to tell me about how he felt when he lost two victims.

  “The irony of that statement isn’t lost on me,” I shrieked. “Get off me.”

  “I felt like I’d failed,” Brice said. “When I saw the first vic...” He shook his head. “Fuck, baby, it was bad. So bad I had to look away for a moment because I could taste the bile rising. When we found the second man, his leg had been trapped and I couldn’t stop thinking about how hard he must’ve struggled. That his last moments on this earth were of him fighting to get free, scared of dying. It gnaws at my insides, every time. Every damn time we lose someone it eats at my gut until the pain is physical.”

  “And what do you do with the pain?”

  “I bury it. I push it away and pretend it didn’t happen.” I opened my mouth to speak but his finger pressed against my lips. “That’s how I know it’s the wrong thing to do. It never goes away. The visions, the pain, they’re always there. In your dreams, in the back of your mind, under your skin. One thing you have to understand, I never had anyone to give that pain to. I had no choice but to lock it down because I didn’t trust anyone with it. But now I do, we both do. You can’t ask me to give my thoughts and feelings to you and expect me not to want the same from you.”

  Did I want his thoughts and feelings? A few days ago that was a no-brainer—I wanted everything from Brice. But now I wasn’t sure I was up to the task. The risk was too great, I knew for certain he’d shred my heart.

  “Tell me,” he prompted when I remained quiet. I started to shake my head but stopped when he lowered his head. “Tell. Me.”

  “There’s nothing—”

  “Tell. Me. Dammit.”

  “What do you want to know? That just like you, I froze. That I couldn’t look away when the knife was plunged into the guy’s throat? That I thought I was going to throw up when blood squirted out of his neck but I couldn’t even do that because I was scared to move? Jesus Christ! He just stabbed him. In a dirty alley in a shitty part of town. A man died in filth, right there, right in front of me. And I heard him, gasping. I heard it. I saw everything. I’m so scared, so fucking afraid I’m next because I saw it. And every time I close my eyes I see him�
�both of them. I can’t unsee it. I can’t stop thinking about how the man was holding a knife staring right into my eyes. Why didn’t I scream? Why didn’t I try to do something? Why did I just stand there and watch it? Why am I not strong like the rest of my family? Why am I always the weak one that needs to be taken care of? Why don’t I ever listen? I shouldn’t’ve been there in the first place. My dad has warned me a hundred times not to go there. And the worst part, I was on the phone with Bridgett joking about needing to get off the phone before I was mugged.”

  “You’re far from weak, baby,” he cooed. “There was nothing you could’ve done to stop it.”

  “But I should’ve done something.”

  “No, you shouldn’t’ve. You did exactly what you should’ve done and that was get yourself safely out of there.”

  “But—”

  “You did everything right. You’re safe and that’s what matters.”

  “Someone’s dead so that isn’t all that matters.”

  “Straight up, you being alive and safe is all that matters to me—to your family. Sucks someone died, but I’m not going to bullshit you. In that neighborhood, with the assailant being a gangbanger, the probability of the victim being involved in felonious activity is high.”

  “How can you say that? Just because the man could’ve been a criminal doesn’t mean he deserved to die that way.”

  Something flashed across Brice’s features and I waited for him to hide it from me, or clear the anger from his eyes, but he didn’t.

  “I’m not gonna feel bad for the way I feel, Quinn. You were innocently buying fucking tea and walked up on something you should’ve never seen. You absolutely did the right thing staying quiet and getting the hell out of there. You also bravely reported it to the police. So, no, I cannot muster up any other feelings besides relief you are alive and breathing. That’s all I’ve got. More relief than I can express to you. And we’re gonna work on the rest, starting with you getting a good night’s sleep.”

  The knock on the door made me jerk in surprise and instantly had me on edge.

  “Fuck,” Brice clipped and grabbed my hand, bringing it to his mouth, kissing my knuckles. “It’s the delivery guy.”

  I nodded and he placed another kiss on my hand. “I’ll be right back. You stay here.”

  He waited until I nodded again and he rolled off of me to go answer the door.

  I stared up at my ceiling wondering what I should do. Brice offered me a chance at something real. Promises he’d never given anyone before. I was already in love with him. Whether it happened today or a week from now would it make a difference? Was there such a thing as different levels of love that would make it hurt worse?

  Once you loved someone didn’t you just love them?

  So many questions swirled around in my head and unfortunately my ceiling had no answers.

  18

  “How is she?” Jasper asked later that night after I got Quinn settled and I called him.

  I glanced at the bedroom door even though it was closed and thought about Quinn and our evening. She was a mess, jumpy as hell, and had spent a good amount of time trying to pull away from me.

  Her earlier words still left a bitter sting, and for the first time in my life something that felt a lot like regret and shame burned my gut. I never should’ve given her space and if I hadn’t been such a damn pussy she wouldn’t be curled into a tight ball in her bed after crying herself to sleep. At least she’d allowed me to hold her through her tears, but not even that made me feel better.

  “Did you know she’s having nightmares?”

  “Fuck,” Jasper muttered. “I suspected she was, but she never confirmed.”

  “She says every time she closes her eyes she sees it—everything that happened. Though what really scares her is that the dickhead saw her.”

  “Detective Henderson called. They picked someone up and he wants to arrange a time in the morning for her to come in for a lineup. Hopefully after he’s put in a cage, some of her worries will ease.”

  I felt no relief hearing about the asshole being arrested. Not a single ounce. In some ways Quinn ID-ing the man would put her in more danger. The asshole was a gangbanger, his buddies would do what they could to silence her before the trial, and after, they’d be out for retaliation. In no way did an arrest make Quinn safe.

  “Jasper—”

  “You don’t have to say it,” he growled and I knew he was feeling this—all of it—his daughter wasn’t safe and right now he was powerless to make her so. “We’ve already thought about it. Jason, Nick, and Ethan are calling in every marker, pushing the gang task force to take down the crew. It’s small in numbers, but they’re trying to push for more territory, which means they’ve made a lot of enemies.”

  “What time do you need us in the morning?”

  “I’ll meet you at the station at nine,” he returned. “Did you get your schedule worked out?”

  “Yeah, Cap gave me a week off. Before I go back, we’ll revaluate where Quinn’s at.”

  There was a stretch of silence and I knew Jasper had something on his mind, but as much as I wanted to give him time, I needed to finish this conversation.

  “Don’t mean to rush you, Jasper, but I left my woman in her bed after she shook in my arms for damn near two hours. I don’t want her waking up alone. I need to get back to her.”

  “This is goddamn hard,” he said and I didn’t miss the apprehension in his tone.

  “I can imagine.”

  “No. You can’t imagine and you won’t know the burden until you’re the father of a precocious, beautiful daughter. Out of all my girls, Quinn is the most independent. Always wanted to go her own way. She could never settle because she wanted to experience everything. She ate it up. She wanted to try anything and everything. Drove her mother and I crazy. But she’s the most sensitive and hides it. I know she’s feeling this deep. I know she’s hurting. So I need to know you have this. All bullshit aside, no pretense and ego, I have to know she’s safe with you. And by safe, I mean every inch of her physically and mentally.”

  My jaw clenched until my molars ached. I quickly tamped down my bubbling anger at being questioned and remembered this was Quinn’s father.

  “You know I do or you would’ve never allowed me in your house and you certainly wouldn’t have let her leave with me if you didn’t believe I’d take care of her. Never done this, Jasper. Never had a woman, therefore I’ve never interacted with worried fathers. But I think you get where I’m coming from—Quinn is not and never has been what Jackson accused her of being.

  “I knew that from the start, going back years I kept my distance. She lived next door for six months until she wore me down. I’m not stupid, I clocked her plays the first day she moved in. We may’ve started out one way, but we sure as fuck aren’t that way now and we stopped being that two hours after she agreed to no commitment. It just took me a while to admit it. And I’m not telling you anything you don’t know, but Quinn’s gonna fight this. She’s already telling me she wants me to leave. She’s throwing shit in my face, pushing me away one second and holding on the next. It may take a while but I’m gonna wear her down.”

  “Jackson will come around,” Jasper told me.

  “I know he will because he loves Quinn. But fair warning—while he’s working through his shit and he’s pissed at me, he ever infers Quinn’s a piece of ass again, he’ll walk away with a busted lip. I let him get his, I didn’t try and stop it, and I didn’t fight back. But that’s all he gets. I warned him once and I’m serious. He’s got issues with me, I’m a man, I can take it. But that shit does not touch Quinn. Not now, not ever.”

  “I’ll have a word.”

  “’Preciate that. My attention needs to be on Quinn. Everything else can wait.”

  “Take care of my girl.”

  “Plan to.”

  “No, Brice, take care of her.”

  I took a moment to let Jasper’s words penetrate. That was as close to an
endorsement as I was going to get from Jasper Walker.

  I glanced back at the closed door, knowing Quinn was behind it, in her bed. The bed I left her in after she’d held onto me with tears leaking from her pretty eyes. She would’ve crawled inside of me if she could and I wanted nothing more than to consume her hurt so she wouldn’t feel it.

  Our evening had not been great, it’d been filled with anxiety and fear. But the rightness of her next to me in my arms wasn’t lost on me. Quinn Walker was it for me—she was everything and I wasn’t letting go.

  “I’m gonna marry your daughter.”

  “You asking me or telling me?” He chuckled.

  “I’m giving you a heads up. When the time is right, the conversation will be had face-to-face and then I’ll be asking.”

  “I’ll let you go.”

  “Jasper?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks.”

  “You make my daughter happy, it will be me thanking you.”

  And with that, Jasper disconnected.

  Then I sent a text to Jackson telling him Quinn was settled for the night and all was good.

  My phone dinged with a message before I hit the bedroom. It may take a hot minute before Jackson came around, and he might have more to say, but bottom line, he adored Quinn, they were close, and he’d have no choice but to get over shit and accept I was going to be in Quinn’s life.