Break in the Storm (WeHo Book 2)

by Sherryl Hancock

  “So what are you doing to it?” Xandy asked, watching as Quinn worked.

  Quinn glanced up at her, her expression indicating surprise as to Xandy’s continued curiosity.

  “The bike’s been running a bit rough, so I’m gonna clean out the carburetor to see if that helps.”

  “You do your own work?”

  “If I can,” Quinn said as she laid aside the air box cover.

  Xandy nodded continuing to watch Quinn work.

  “Would you take me on a ride sometime?” Xandy asked, hoping she wasn’t being too big of a pain.

  Quinn glanced up at her again, looking amused.

  “Sure,” she said, as she picked the hex keys to remove the next set of bolts. “In fact I’m doing this to go on a run tomorrow, if you want to come?”

  “That would be great,” Xandy said, but then looked crest fallen. “But that’s your day off. I shouldn’t bug you on your day off.”

  “It’s okay. I’ll warn you though it’s with a lesbian group called Dykes on Bikes.”

  “So?” Xandy replied, mystified.

  Quinn laughed outright at the look on the girl’s face. “Alright then,” she said. “Let me get this taken care of, so we won’t get stranded tomorrow.”

  Quinn spent the better half of the day cleaning the carburetor and cleaning the bike to get it ready to ride.

  Later that night, Xandy wandered into Quinn’s room after she had just settled down. Quinn was not at all surprised. With a knowing grin, Quinn moved to sit up and put her arm out to Xandy. Xandy looked a bit abashed, but climbed into the bed all the same, moving to lean against Quinn.

  “Bad dream?”

  Xandy shook her head. “No, just got lonely.”

  Quinn smiled mildly, the girl was definitely endearing. Quinn had music playing; it wasn’t the harder rock that she usually played in the car. Xandy listened to the song playing.

  “Who is this?”

  “Chris Daughtry.”

  The song that was playing was called “Crashed” and it talked about how the singer was not sure what he was looking for, but then he crashed into this other person. It wasn’t your usual love song, but it really did relate to people who maybe normally didn’t fit together.

  “I like it,” Xandy said, closing her eyes and listening.

  Quinn merely nodded. They both sat listening to the music, and the songs that came after that one. Without realizing it, Quinn stroked Xandy’s arm with her thumb, lost in her own thoughts. Xandy felt the movement and found that she very much liked the feeling it gave her. It was amazing to be so relaxed in someone’s presence, especially when she barely knew Quinn, but that’s what she was, completely relaxed.

  When she’d been in her own room, Xandy had felt a sense of loss. She missed the closeness that she’d become quickly used to with Quinn. Part of her knew she needed to look at those feelings more closely, but the other part of her that wanted to stop thinking so much about everything shoved that thought aside. In Quinn’s presence she found peace and a feeling of safety she’d desperately needed for months now. It had been that need that had gotten her out of her bed and wandering into Quinn’s room.

  “I really liked your apartment,” Xandy said, glancing up at Quinn.

  “Thanks.”

  Xandy sighed, looking around her at the bedroom. “I guess I’ve been pretty bad about doing anything here.”

  “What’s up with that anyway?” Quinn asked, having wondered that since she’d first walked into the house.

  Xandy shrugged, moving to sit up and looking down at Quinn. “My other place was decorated. I loved that place.”

  “You don’t love this one?” Quinn asked, pushing herself up to lean against the headboard.

  “I do,” Xandy said, glancing around the room, “it’s just…”

  “Just what?” Quinn asked gently.

  Quinn was learning quickly that there were a lot of hidden landmines when it came to Xandy’s past, and she was doing her best to navigate them as carefully as possible.

  “I just don’t feel like I’ve settled in,” Xandy said, looking sad. “BJ had seen this place, and thought that I might like it, which I did. It was after… Jason.”

  “The bodyguard.”

  Xandy nodded, swallowing convulsively and breathing out slowly as if to calm herself.

  “I bought it, but,” she said, shrugging again. “I just never really had the heart to do anything with it after that.”

  Quinn nodded, understanding that problem.

  Xandy looked hopefully at Quinn. “Would you help me do something with it?”

  “Sure. What are you thinking of?”

  “Just like paint and stuff, maybe some tile work in the bathrooms.”

  “I could probably help with some of that.”

  Xandy bit her lip, smiling, then nodding almost to herself.

  “It’s about time I do something here,” Xandy said, her gesture indicating the house.

  Quinn nodded, agreeing with that sentiment whole heartedly.

  “What time do we leave tomorrow?” Xandy asked yawning.

  “Six o’clock.”

  Xandy nodded, settling more comfortably against the other woman, putting her arm cross Quinn’s stomach. Xandy felt the muscles under her arm twitch a little bit, but didn’t think anything of it.

  Quinn barely kept herself from outright jumping when Xandy’s hand had slid across her stomach. The action and the corresponding feeling had been very unexpected. The sensations that radiated from Xandy’s arm resting there had Quinn wondering if she was in some serious trouble. She fell into a fitful sleep with self-castigating thoughts of what she perceived as her complete lack of self-control. Little did Quinn know that Xandy being blissfully unaware of any of Quinn’s turbulent thoughts was actually a testament to Quinn’s self-control.

  Chapter 3

  The ride the next day was both fun and also a bit of a source of trouble for Quinn. While all the girls from the group knew that Quinn was dating Valerie Henning, a shining beacon of lesbian stardom, Valerie never went riding with her. When Quinn showed up to the run with Xandy, she was hailed with a series of catcalls and, “Whata, whata, whata?” from the head of the group, Sandy.

  She’d explained that Xandy was a friend, and that she was not gay. “So don’t try it, Pam,” Quinn had said, winking at the dark-haired woman across from her. Once they’d cleared that up, they had gotten ready to begin their run. Quinn wore faded jeans with black leather chaps over them, her black leather Harley Davidson boots and a black leather vest under which she wore simply a black sports bra. Over it she wore an all-black classic biker style jacket.

  Xandy had surprised her by wearing what Quinn would consider appropriate clothes for the run. She wore jeans with flat black boots and a long sleeved thermal shirt in light blue, as well as a pullover hoodie jacket that was also light blue. She looked very wholesome, but also looked like she’d be warm.

  Unfortunately, they hadn’t counted on the cooler weather in the mountains that they’d rode to and Xandy was shivering by the time they got to their destination. As they got off the bike, Quinn unzipped her jacket, took it off and put it around Xandy’s shoulders, then she turned to rummage in her saddle bag and pulled out a black thermal shirt with the letters “HD” for Harley Davidson in orange on the chest. Taking the vest off and setting it aside, Quinn pulled on the thermal shirt and put the vest on over it.

  “Quinn, you’re going to be cold,” Xandy said, trying to hand Quinn her jacket back.

  Quinn gave her a pointed look, telling her without words that she wasn’t going to argue with her about the jacket. Xandy sighed mightily, but gratefully put her arms in the arms of the jacket. It was big on her, but it still held Quinn’s warmth, so it felt wonderful.

  The group had lunch at a local restaurant and Xandy was entertained by the conversations going on. She noticed a few long looks in her direction, one was even intercepted by Quinn, who narrowed her eyes at the woman a
nd shook her head slowly, even as she grinned. Xandy took the opportunity to talk to these women and found that many of them were really nice and very definitely from all walks of life. There were cops, nurses, a doctor, a lawyer, an architect, a few fire fighters, and even one judge.

  She felt a wonderful sense of togetherness from the group, and they happily included her even though it had been made clear that she wasn’t a lesbian. Xandy also noticed that not one of these women held a lot of interest for her, not like Quinn did, and that pricked at her sub-conscious.

  Quinn noticed that Xandy became quiet at one point during lunch, she kept an eye on her without being too obtrusive, but when the girl wandered out of the restaurant. Quinn knew she had to follow her. It was unlikely that Xandy would be in any danger in this remote location, but Quinn wasn’t taking any chances.

  She found Xandy standing near the bike which was parked near a stand of trees.

  “Everything okay?” Quinn asked from behind Xandy.

  Xandy turned around, looking up at Quinn, her face shadowed before she smiled.

  “Yes,” she said, doing her best to shake off the thoughts that had been intruding on her.

  Quinn narrowed her eyes slightly, not believing the girl, but not wanting to push too hard. “The girls can get to be a bit much.”

  “Oh, no,” Xandy said, shaking her head. “They’re great, really.”

  Quinn nodded, her green eyes on the girl.

  “We’ll probably be heading out here in a few minutes, so you might want to hit the ladies room.”

  Xandy nodded, starting to walk back toward the restaurant. Quinn watched her go and followed a few paces behind. She wasn’t sure what was going on with Xandy, but she was going to make sure she was around if she wanted to talk.

  That night Xandy was unusually quiet, but Quinn didn’t push, wanting to give her space. They ate dinner quietly, and headed to bed early, the fresh air had made them both tired. Regardless of her quiet mood, Xandy found her way into Quinn’s room all the same. For once they simply fell asleep; Xandy on her side next to Quinn, her head in the hollow of Quinn’s shoulder, her hand next to her face on Quinn’s shoulder, with Quinn’s right arm around her.

  The next morning Xandy got up before Quinn and went to shower and then make breakfast. Quinn wandered into the kitchen an hour later, having showered and dressed. Xandy was going through emails on her laptop computer when she gasped out loud. Quinn turned from getting her coffee and saw all of the color drain from Xandy’s face. Walking over to her, Quinn could see an email open on the computer. She read it over Xandy’s shoulder.

  You dirty whore, I’m gonna fuck you up in ways you can’t even begin to imagine…

  It was all Quinn needed to read before reaching over to snap the laptop shut. By that time, Xandy was shaking. Quinn moved to kneel in front of the girl, taking her hands in hers; Xandy’s hands were ice cold. Looking up into Xandy’s eyes, Quinn gave her hands a gentle squeeze.

  “No one is going to get to you,” Quinn told her. “No one, do you hear me?”

  Xandy looked back at Quinn, her lavender-blue eyes wide with terror. Quinn pulled the girl toward her, holding Xandy’s tiny frame to her. As she moved to stand, she scooped Xandy up in her arms. Quinn carried her to the master bedroom, and sat down on the bed. She leaned against the headboard, and cradled Xandy against her. The girl was shaking like a leaf. Quinn held her, reaching up to stroke hair in an effort to calm her.

  “It’s going to be okay,” Quinn told her, her mind racing as she did. “We’re gonna take care of this.”

  “There has been others,” Xandy whispered.

  “There have?” Quinn asked, her tone almost angry that she didn’t know that.

  Xandy nodded, her face pressed against Quinn’s shirt.

  “Does BJ know?” Quinn asked, because she hadn’t been told anything about this if he did.

  Xandy shook her head.

  “Xan…” Quinn breathed. “Why? Why didn’t you tell him?”

  Xandy scrubbed her face with her hand, shaking her head. “I’ve already been a royal pain in the ass to him.”

  “Fecking hell, Xandy,” Quinn said, exasperated. “You are not a pain in the ass. You’re probably the easiest client I’ve ever had, and I’m sure BJ feels the same.”

  Xandy didn’t say anything.

  “Do you still have the other emails?” Quinn asked gently.

  Xandy shook her head. “I deleted them.”

  “Fuck…” Quinn muttered, cussing for the first time in front of Xandy.

  It was enough to shock the girl out of her stupor.

  “You’re ma would smack ya for that,” Xandy said, in a fairly good imitation of Quinn’s accent, grinning.

  Quinn glanced down at her, shocked then she chuckled.

  “Got me there. Okay, let me go and make some calls,” she said, moving to stand.

  Xandy made a petulant sound in the back of her throat and tightened her hold on the part of Quinn’s shirt that she had her hand wrapped around.

  “Okay…” Quinn said, grinning, as she reached into her pocket for her phone. “I’ll make the calls right here.”

  The first call she made was to Mackie, who told her to call BJ directly, giving her BJ’s private cell phone that he “always answers, come hell or high water.”

  Mackie was not wrong, BJ answered on the second ring.

  “Yeah?” BJ answered.

  “BJ, it’s Quinn.”

  “What’s goin’ on?” BJ asked, alert.

  “Need your help,” Quinn said, glancing down at Xandy.

  “Name it!”

  “Xandy’s been getting threatening emails.”

  “She’s been getting emails?” BJ cut in. “Since when?”

  Quinn grimaced, knowing BJ was not going to be pleased with the answer. “Apparently for a while now.”

  “Bloody fucking hell!” BJ shouted. “Why am I just hearing this now?”

  Quinn widened her eyes slightly, seeing Xandy wince. It was impossible for her not to have heard BJ’s exclamation.

  “Because I just heard about it myself,” Quinn said mildly.

  “Put her on the damned phone,” BJ raged.

  “Yeah, I don’t think so,” Quinn said, not willing to let BJ scream at the girl. She was already terrified.

  “Excuse me?” BJ said, his voice having dropped to a dangerous octave.

  Quinn was not intimidated; her emerald-green eyes narrowed slightly, a sign to anyone that knew her that meant she was digging her heels in.

  “No,” she said simply.

  “Be wide Kavanaugh…” BJ said, telling her to be careful in Irish slang.

  There was a long minute of silence on the other end of the line. Quinn waited, refusing to back down.

  She heard BJ mutter something that sounded suspiciously like, “cheeky Irish…”

  Finally, she heard a mighty sigh.

  “Fine!” BJ said. “I’ll make some calls and get back to you soon.”

  “Thanks,” Quinn said, upbeat.

  “Bean deacair,” BJ fired back, making Quinn laugh. He’d called her a difficult woman in Gaelic.

  “You bet,” Quinn replied, which elicited a laugh from the record mogul and they hung up.

  Within two hours, a cell phone was ringing across town in Malibu. Devin James answered her cell phone, not recognizing the number, but it was on her business line so she still picked up.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Devin James?” BJ queried.

  “It is,” Devin answered, surprised by the accent she was hearing.

  “Ms. James, my name is BJ Sparks, and I got your name from Attorney General Chevalier. She said you’ve worked with her agency with great success. I’d like to hire you.”

  Devin’s eyes widened slightly at the mention of his name, and widened further when he mentioned who he’d gotten her name from. She’d worked with the Attorney General’s office a couple of years before, helping them to solve a major
cyber case. She had no idea that Midnight Chevalier herself remembered her.

  “Okay,” Devin said, not sure what to say to someone that was a major player in the music world. “What exactly do you need help with, Mr. Sparks?”

  “Call me BJ,” he said, his tone warm. “I’d like to meet with you if I can, I’d rather not discuss this kind of thing on the phone.”

  “Alright, when?”

  “This afternoon?” BJ offered. “My house? Can you make it for lunch? Say one o’clock?”

  Devin was taken back, she didn’t imagine people like BJ Sparks had that kind of time on his hands, but she had to find out.

  Devin stammered. “I… sure, yes.”

  “Perfect. I’ll text you the address.”

  “Mr. Sparks,” Devin said, quickly before he could hang up.

  “BJ,” he reminded her, humor in his voice.

  “BJ… can I bring my fiancée?”

  “Of course.”

  Devin hung up the phone with a sense of unreality. Standing, she walked to the back sliding door of her house, opened it and walked outside.

  Skyler Boché, Devin’s fiancée and the love of her life, sat smoking, legs stretched out in front of her and her feet on the chair across from her. Skyler glanced over her shoulder, as her hand rubbed the head of the Husky that sat next to her. Benny turned his head, giving Devin a quick “aroo” as a greeting. Devin walked over, moving to sit in the chair Skyler had her feet in. Skyler shifted her feet to allow Devin to sit, a routine they repeated often. The backyard was Skyler’s haven, where she escaped to stare out at the ocean. Benny was her constant companion. He had been named after a member of Skyler’s helicopter squad that had been killed in Iraq. Benny was trained as a PTSD therapy dog. He could sense when Skyler was having a rough day, and would alert Devin when that was happening. He was a calming influence for Skyler, when she needed it. She had been through some horrific things in Iraq, and was also in therapy to deal with what had happened.

  Skyler looked at her fiancée and grinned, Devin had been the best thing that had ever happened to her. Devin, with her black hair with the purple streak running through it, and multiple ear piercings, was her ‘wild child.’ Skyler had never had someone who loved her completely and unconditionally. If it hadn’t been for Devin, Skyler was sure that she’d never have begun the process to heal some of the trauma in her past. It was still an adjustment not to run away, but Devin’s love kept her grounded and she was forever grateful to her for that.