by K. S. Thomas
“Then what are you doing?” She’s leaning in so far she’s blocking my view of the phone.
“Would you move your bigass head out of my way so I can see the screen? I’m trying to add my number to your contact list.”
Stumped, she actually drops back. “What for?”
I finish punching in the number and then hit call. Now I have hers as well. “So that the next time someone sets you up on a blind date, you can call me and I’ll come pick you up before the douchebag gets there.”
I hand the phone back to her and she smirks. “Well, I might as well just delete it again then, because I’m sure as hell not going out on any more blind dates.”
Her fingers fly over the screen and I clasp my hand around them to stop her. “Keep it anyway. Use it. Don’t use it. I don’t care. But I want you to have it. Just in case.”
This time her quirky little mouth holds still. No smirk. No mocking grin. Just her. Nodding.
***
Quinn
I see her before I even step one foot inside. Kirsten. She’s in my room, pacing back and forth with such a force she reminds me of a tornado ripping through my place and I’m kind of expecting to see the floor boards busted out and strewn all over from the impact.
“Where the hell have you been?” She lunges for me the second I open the door. “And don’t give me some bullshit about being out running, because I’ve been in this room all night waiting for you. I know you haven’t been home. And I know for damn sure those aren’t your clothes.”
I glance down at the oversized t-shirt and drawstring shorts I’m wearing. “They could be mine. You don’t know what all I have.”
“Don’t give me that. You don’t fucking own a Motley Crew shirt. And don’t try to distract me!” I think she’s a little extra pissed now because it worked. Even if it was only temporarily.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I was at a friend’s house. And yes, he let me borrow some clothes so I wouldn’t have to walk down the beach in the dress you got me.” Which incidentally, I no longer own since I watched Riker throw it into the garbage can right before he dragged it out to the curb to be picked up.
“So it’s true?” Kirsten looks like her head is about to explode. Then her arms start flailing around dramatically and I can’t help but wonder if she intends to use the force of the impending explosion to propel herself upward and become air born. “You’ve been seeing someone behind my back this entire time? Damn it, Quinn! When will you ever learn?”
“I just told you, he’s a friend.” It never pays to meet Kirsten at the height of her anger, but it’s taking all I’ve got to try and remain calm when she’s basically busy accusing me of being the dumbest fucking girl alive.
“Stop. Just stop.” She’s holding up her hand for extra measure. “Carson called last night and told us everything. Said the two of you had just finished a really great dinner and were walking out to his car when your jealous boyfriend showed up out of the blue and attacked him! Did you know he broke his jaw? Carson spent the night in the ER thanks to your mistakes.”
My blood is quite literally boiling. I mean, I can’t be certain, so maybe literally isn’t as accurate as I’d like it to be, but my skin is burning up and I feel like I might scream, so, if it’s not boiling it’s something pretty damn close.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now? My mistakes? How about your mistakes? And Nate’s mistakes?” It’s my turn to charge across the room and get in her face. “For starters, dinner sucked ass. Mostly because all he could do is talk about his damn self, which would have been fine if he had been even remotely interesting. Which he was not! Then, I avoid dessert in hopes of ending the evening, only to wind up being mauled by him in the parking lot. Your precious Carson is one fucking date rape away from a long-term prison sentence. Shit, it’s probably already happened and he just found a way to convince the girls that he was doing them a favor by assaulting them because it would boost their bad reputations. At least that’s the line he gave me. Be sure to thank your husband for that one by the way. He told that asshole just enough of my business to get the completely wrong idea! Not that that would have made it any better. Even if I was the biggest slut to ever walk the face of this earth, I still would not have slept with him!” I don’t think I’ve inhaled since I started shouting because I’m feeling lightheaded now. But I’m not done. “And as for Riker - yeah, it was him - he’s the one I was with last night. He’s the one I’ve been with every night since Sophie’s birthday party, and he’s the one who stumbled upon Carson attacking me in the parking lot and then put a stop to it. Because that’s just the kind of loser he is.”
“You’re lying.” But I can tell from her tone that she doesn’t think I am. She just needs me to be. Because otherwise I was attacked last night. Again. And this time she was the leading force behind it.
“I’m not.” The boil has subsided to a slow simmer and now that I’ve said all there was to say, I’m wondering if it would have been better to just keep my mouth shut.
“Carson is a decent guy. He comes from a good family. Nate knows him. They play golf together.” She shakes her head. “I wouldn’t set my baby sister up with someone who could hurt her.”
“I know that, Kirsten.” I can’t be mad at her. She’s going to rip herself to shreds over this one for a long time and that’s the last thing I want. “I shouldn’t have said it was your mistake. I was just...pissed. Because for once, it wasn’t mine either. Everything that went wrong was Carson’s doing. And if I was anyone else, I would have called the cops. I wouldn’t have put Riker in a position to have to handle it for me.”
She looks up at me, still cringing at the sound of his name. “Why him, Quinn? I know what he did last night was to save you...but Carson sent Nate pictures of his face. That man has a violent streak. What if he turns it on you one day?”
I close my eyes because hearing her say those words about the man who held me in his arms last night, showing me more care and kindness than any one person on this earth ever has, makes me hurt. An almost unbearable hurt.
“He won’t, Kirsten.” I exhale and I can feel the emotions trickle out with the shakiness of my breath. “You don’t know him. The version you’ve seen...that’s not even him. That’s just his job. The clothes and the environment you associate with Jackson, aren’t even attached to Riker outside of his work. And even if they were, that’s a pretty heavy stereotype to put on people. You really think every guy who works outdoors, wears jeans, boots and a backwards baseball cap goes home and beats on their woman? You can’t possibly believe that. Any more than I think every guy who looks like Carson is a rapist. Because that would make Nate one, too. And we both know nothing could be further from the truth.”
Gradually, Kirsten’s demeanor is changing. She’s not pissed anymore. But now I kind of wish she still was, because the agony creeping in and taking over isn’t any easier to bear. It’s harder.
“He’s not the one who makes me worry, Quinn.” She turns and walks over to my bed where she sinks down on the mattress, slightly defeated. “You are. You’re sneaking around. Lying. Keeping him hidden. Why would you do that if you thought there wasn’t anything wrong with this relationship?”
I sit down on the bed beside her, feeling a lot calmer in spite of the fact that I’m now having to put into words something that was so much simpler in silence. “Because it’s not a relationship.” I watch and wait for her to get the point I’m trying to make. It takes a second but the understanding starts to filter in.
“Oh.” She rolls her eyes at me. “Well, that’s charming.”
“Would you make up your damn mind? Shit, Kirsten. One minute it’s all, he’s not good enough for you. Don’t get involved with him, he’ll treat you like Jackson did. Stop falling for losers, Quinn. And then when I tell you, hey, no biggie. I’m not attached. Not involved, and there are no feelings to speak of, somehow that doesn’t work for you either.” I bump her shoulder with mine, trying my
best to make her lighten up.
“So, it’s just sex. That’s all?” Her left brow is cocked, displaying her skepticism.
“Well, really, really good sex. Kind of mind blowing, turn your world into a wonderland and teach you how to fly sort of sex. I wouldn’t haul my cookies a mile down the beach every night for ‘just sex’.”
Finally the flat line taking the place of her mouth gives way to a small smile. “That’s something, I guess. I’d hate to think you were ‘just’ a whore. But no, you’re a whore with standards.”
“A girl’s gotta have those.” I nod. This is the closest we’ve been to being us in a long time. I’ve missed it. I’ve missed her.
“I guess I’ll let you get cleaned up.” She stands up and starts for the door. “I’m making waffles. With chocolate chips.”
I smile at her. She knows those are my favorite. “I’ll be up in a few.”
And then the door closes and she’s gone.
Feeling unusually well rested after a night of solid sleep, I’m not tempted by my comfy bed and manage to jump right to my feet to start getting ready for the day. I’m at my dresser about to dig around in it for something suitable to wear, when my door comes flying open again and my sister runs toward me, wrapping both arms around me tightly.
“I’m so sorry. So, so very sorry, Quinn.” Her voice is choked up and choppy from crying. “I was so busy worrying about you repeating the past, that I completely missed the present.” She pulls back, placing her hands on the sides of my face. “Did he hurt you? Did he...do anything before Riker showed up?”
I shake my head before I can find the words. “Just kissed me. And over the clothes stuff. Nothing that will leave scars any uglier than the ones I’ve already got.”
She presses her lips to my forehead before she releases me again. “Next time you see Riker, tell him I said thanks for looking out for my baby sister.” She’s at the door again. She wipes her eyes, preparing to face Nate and Sophie who are probably sitting right at the end of the stairway in the living room. “And tell him in the future, it wouldn’t hurt to break more than a measly little jaw on a man like Carson.”
“I’ll be sure to mention it.” In a month or so, when we make the effort to have another conversation.
As it turns out, it takes less than twenty four hours before I’m back at his place and we’re talking.
“And now your sister knows? And she’s cool with it?”
We’re up on the roof top deck, lying on the chaise lounge, me on top of him, both of us naked under his quilt and staring straight up at the night sky. It’s beautiful out.
“Mostly. She likes you now, but I don’t think she’s all that impressed with our arrangement.”
His hand reaches over to cup my breast. “What’s wrong with our arrangement?” I can hear the grin in his voice even if I can’t see it.
“Not a thing. It’s pretty perfect if you ask me.” I snake my arm up out of his hold and around the back of his head to play with his thick hair. It’s got a slight wave to it now from the moisture in the air. “My sister did throw the word whore around a time or two though.”
“That seems a bit harsh. I mean, easy, maybe. But whore?”
I grab a fistful of his hair and hold it hostage. “What was that?”
“I was kidding. I swear. Ow!” He rubs the spot on his scalp dramatically.
“You’re such a wuss. Men, I swear.” I roll myself over onto my chest, carefully balancing my weight so I don’t fall off of him and the chaise. “Meanwhile, I’m hungry.”
Riker stretches into a more upright position, taking me with him. “I’ve got some shrimp fried rice downstairs.”
“Hm.”
He squints at me, a shadow coming down over his handsome face. “What?”
I flick my wrist casually like it’s no big deal, only it totally is. “It’s nothing. Just...I seem to recall someone mentioning providing an actual meal with actual plates and actual silverware...from time to time.”
His brows lift again and the corner of his mouth inches it’s way upwards as well. “And I take it, time to time is right now?”
“Oh, well, if you insist. I mean, I would have been fine reheating old take-out –“
He dives in to kiss me before I even finish. “Shut up, Quinn,” he murmurs, his mouth hovering right over mine.
“Okay.” I close my eyes and let my lips find their own way back to him. They always do.
Chapter Ten
Riker
I lock the door and head back down the cobblestone driveway. This is the fifth house I’ve checked on so far and I’ve got eight more to go before I can head home. I’m tempted to call Quinn and have her come out and meet me for the night. This time of year, almost all the rentals are booked, but I’ve got one that won’t be occupied again until next Friday. But, an overnight trip out of town doesn’t sound like something you invite your fuckbuddy to do. And that is after all, what she is. Or, what she thinks she wants to be.
Climbing into the driver seat of my truck, I hear my phone vibrating. I left it on the dash. I always forget it there. I don’t know why I can’t remember to stick it in my fucking pocket. Maybe because I’m never expecting any calls I really want to answer.
I don’t even bother looking who it is.
“Yeah?”
“Nox is in trouble. You need to come. Now.” It’s Sid.
“What’s wrong?” Automatically, I slam the door shut and start up the engine. Then I turn the key again and stop what I’m doing. I’m three hours out.
“He’s hurt. He got spooked out in the pasture and started running. Next thing I see, he’s falling, crashing into the ground at full speed. It was horrible, Riker. I couldn’t move. I just stood there, waiting and praying, hoping he would stand up again.” I can hear her sniffle. She’s crying. This is bad. Sid doesn’t cry. She just doesn’t. “I couldn’t take it. I had to make Harrold go check on him. I thought for sure he was lying out there dead. Broken neck. Something. But he’s not. He’s alive. Just in really bad shape.”
She’s taking too damn long getting to the point. “What the hell happened, Sid?”
“I don’t know,” she wails into my ear. “There was barbed wire hidden in the tall grass. I don’t know where it came from. Must have blown over from the neighbor’s during the last storm. There’s still half a fence post attached to it. The rest is wrapped around his legs. He can’t get up. I have no idea how badly he’s been hurt and he won’t let anyone near enough to help him. Every time we try he starts kicking his legs, tightening the wires around him more. It has to be you. You have to get here. Now.”
I drop my head to the steering wheel. This can’t be happening. “I’m out checking the properties. I’m three hours down the coast.”
Sid sucks in a loud breath of air. She was counting on me. Nox was counting on me. My fucking grandfather was counting on me. Fuck me.
“Listen to me, Sid. You need to call Kirsten Bernheimer. Tell her to bring her sister down. Nox likes her. I don’t know why, but he does.” And right now she’s the only chance he’s got.
“Quinn? The cranky one who never smiles? When has she ever been around him?” I understand why she’s skeptical. Nox matters to her as well, but that’s precisely why she shouldn’t be wasting more time than necessary.
“Yeah. The cranky one. Just fucking call her. I’m telling you, she’ll be able to help him. At least until I get there.” This time, I hang up before she can argue with me anymore. I start the truck up again and back out of the driveway, still searching my phone for her name. She’s the last one in my contact list.
“I’m sorry, I don’t do barn calls. I’ll be over when you’re home. And showered.” Outside of her voice, there isn’t a single other sound on the line. For a brief moment it occurs to me that I have no idea what she does all day.
“I’m calling about Nox. He got tangled up in some barbed wire and won’t let anyone near him,” I pause to merge into traffic.
> “Shit.” I hear the squeak of an office chair.
“Look, I’m sure this is going to sound crazy, but I think you might be the only one who can help him. He doesn’t like people. He barely even tolerates me, but I’m three hours away. And he needs help now. And that day of Sophie’s party...he likes you. He’ll let you get close enough to help him.”
She’s quiet on the other end. Then there’s the sound of a door opening and I hear her sister’s voice, “Quinn. Sidney called. They have a horse in trouble and for some reason they think you might be able to help?”
“I’m going to need to borrow the Beemer.” Then she gets back on the line with me. “I’ll be over there in fifteen minutes. And I won’t even tell Sidney you called.”
“Thank you.” The line goes dead and I throw the phone back onto my dash. Where I’ll probably find it again sometime tomorrow morning.
***
Quinn
“That was...amazing. It really was. I don’t even know how to thank you, Quinn.” But Sidney tries anyway by throwing her arms around my shoulders and drawing me in for an awkward hug. It’s only awkward because I’m not hugging her back. I should. I just suck at this stuff. By the time I manage to return the gesture, it only gets more awkward because she’s already letting me go.
“It was nothing. I mean, it’s just a fluke he happens to like me. I’m just glad he’s going to be alright.” By some miracle, Nox walked away from the incident with all of his bones still intact. His legs are cut up pretty bad, and there’ll be scarring, but the vet seems to think that’s the worst of it. Of course, he won’t know for sure until all the swelling goes down. There’s still a chance he has a sprain or damaged tendon, however, at this point, everything is treatable.
“Yeah. A fluke.” Sidney shakes her head like she’s still trying to make sense out of everything. “You know, once upon a time, he was a completely different horse. Then Old Willie died and he was never the same. Only let’s Riker handle him now.” She chuckles quietly. “And Riker hates him, so I guess Nox really does pick and choose the people he accepts randomly.”