Quentin (The Bourbon & Blood Series Book 4)

by Seraphina Donavan

  She laughed at that, unable to help herself. “If they hate me,” she finally managed, “It’s on you.”

  “They won’t hate you. Me… I’m not so sure about. I did have an epic redneck brawl on the front lawn Thanksgiving day. I’m in the dog house.”

  She pushed him away and sat up. “If we’re going, I need to shower and get ready before I change my mind.”

  ***

  Quentin rolled onto his back and watched her as she moved around the room. It was mundane, really. She gathered clothes from the closet, toiletries from the bag on the dresser. But she was doing it all buck naked and there was nothing better than watching her move when she didn’t have a stitch on.

  She glanced over her shoulder at him, saw him watching and made a face. “Pervert.”

  “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

  He rolled to his side laughing as she tossed a shoe at him. “Be nice,” he admonished. “I’m on the injured list.”

  That prompted an eye roll from her. “Judging by our earlier activities, you’re not that injured.”

  “Oh, I am,” he said. “But with the right incentive, I can power through.”

  “And on that note, I’m getting in the shower,” she paused, looked back at him, and added, “Alone.”

  He was still chuckling as she closed the bathroom door firmly behind her. Sitting up, he winced as his ribs reminded him just how hard his half brother could punch, and reached for his discarded pants. After digging his cell from the pocket, he started to text Mia. They hadn’t spoken since he’d Jerry Springer-ed her Thanksgiving. Deciding that a phone call and a well timed apology were more likely to get him what he wanted, he dialed her number instead.

  She answered quickly and her response was pretty much as expected. “You’re an asshole,” she said flatly.

  “We are in total agreement,” he offered. “I’m sorry I ruined your big holiday plans. It was a dick move.”

  Her heavy sigh was all he needed. She’d forgive him. Mia’s downfall was that she was always too forgiving. At least it worked in his favor.

  “What do you want, Quentin? You wouldn’t be calling and apologizing if there wasn’t something in it for you.”

  The truth hurts, he thought. “I do… but it’s fairly benign.”

  “Spill it, big brother.”

  Quentin took a breath, glanced at the bathroom door and then said something he’d never thought to utter. “I want to bring Lowey to the house for dinner… and if you’re not doing anything with it, I want to get Mama’s ring from you.”

  ***

  Mia had been half listening to her brother, assuming he was just trying to con her into forgetting his bad behavior. She’d been watching through the back window as Bennett cleared brush in the back yard. It was November, but unseasonably warm and he’d worked up a sweat while wearing nothing but jeans and a white T-shirt. Maybe that was why it took her a second to process what Quentin had just said, because her ovaries had temporarily shut down higher brain function.

  When it did register, she turned away from the window and sank down onto the nearest horizontal surface. “You’re serious?”

  “As a heart attack,” Quentin replied.

  Mia felt a little breathless at the thought. Quentin didn’t talk to her. Not about things that mattered. In fact, as far as she knew, he didn’t talk to anything about things that mattered. He kept it all bottled up inside him, like any softer emotion was a crime to be concealed. “You want to marry her?”

  “Not tomorrow,” he snapped. “But when all this business is settled with Joey Barnes, when there’s time for us to sit and talk about everything, then I’m going to ask her.”

  “Don’t wait until things are settled.” If there was one thing Mia had learned in her life, waiting for things to be right was pointless. If he loved Harlow Tate, and she had to believe he did because Quentin was the most commitment phobic person on the planet, he needed to move on it and not waste another second. “If you love her, and if you want to be with her, just do it. Don’t let anyone or anything stop you.”

  There was silence on the line for the longest time, until he finally spoke again. “I’m sorry, Mia. We should have done something about Samuel… long before now. If I’d known—.”

  “You’d have killed him. Your temper still isn’t the best, especially where he’s concerned,” she stated. “This is how it was supposed to be. If I’d run off with Bennett when we were younger, I don’t know what would have happened. Maybe we could have made it work, maybe not. But what I do know is that living the last ten years without him gave me enough time to realize just how special it is. I appreciate having him in my life now in a way that I might not have before.”

  It was true, she realized. She’d had to let him go to understand just how much he meant o her, how vital he was to her life and her happiness. Did Harlow Tate make Quentin feel that way? God, she hoped so. He needed some happiness in his life. He needed some peace from whatever it was that haunted him so much.

  “Dinner won’t be fancy,” she said. “But it’ll be ready at seven. You want Clayton and Annalee here to witness your taming?”

  His bark of laughter made her smile. Quentin didn’t do that nearly enough.

  “I’ll never be tamed, Mia,” he scoffed.

  “So you say,” she laughed. “But I’ve seen Harlow Tate, Quentin. I know just what that girl looks like and I know just how little of your crap she’ll tolerate. You might not be completely tamed, but you’ll definitely be domesticated in the right circumstances.”

  He changed the subject then. “Lowey is getting out of the shower. I’ll see you tonight.”

  The call ended abruptly, leaving Mia sitting there holding the phone and shaking her head in wonder. If any woman could ever bring Quentin to heel it would be Harlow Tate and she was eager to see it.

  The back door slammed and she looked up to see Bennett walking in, stripping off his sweaty shirt and looking like every erotic fantasy she’d had for the last decade.

  “You keep looking at me like that,” he warned, “And I’m not going to be responsible for my actions.”

  She dropped the phone onto the couch beside her and leaned back, resting her weight on her palms. “Is that a promise or a threat?”

  Bennett stalked towards her until he could tangle his hands in her hair. Then he kissed her, his lips firm on hers. It was definitely a promise, she decided. When the kiss broke, she was breathless. “I should be getting everything ready for dinner tonight… we’re having guests.”

  “We’ll order pizza,” he offered.

  “No,” she said. “We will not. But since it’s warm enough outside, there’s no reason you couldn’t fire up the grill and cook some steaks. That might free up a little bit of time this afternoon.”

  Bennett grinned and then scooped her up, draping her over his shoulder as he made his way toward the stairs. They were halfway to the landing when the sound of breaking glass stopped them cold.

  “Put me down,” Mia said, but Bennett was already lowering her to her feet.

  “I’ll go check it out,” he offered.

  “No,” she said. “That came from Mama’s room!”

  She was already rushing past him, toward the former library that had been modified for Patricia. But inside the door, she stopped abruptly. There was no one there except her mother. Patricia lay in the bed, motionless as always. But the lamp beside her bed was broken on the floor and the cord dangled from her fingertips.

  “What is happening here?” she asked, terrified to even hope.

  Bennett shook his head. “I wish to hell I knew, baby. I wish I knew.”

  Thirteen

  Quentin parked the car in front of the house and noted that Clayton and Annalee were already there. He smiled, looking forward to seeing Emma Grace. His only niece was shamelessly spoiled but still a sweet kid and he enjoyed her tremendously.

  Getting out of the car he walked around to open Lowey’s door for her. He could smell the fi
red up grill and his stomach rumbled.

  “Oh, my god!” Lowey said. “That smells amazing… and I’m starving.”

  “We did skip lunch,” he pointed out. He’d talked her back into bed with him and it had been amazing.

  “Yes, we did. Because you whined like a little bitch until I agreed to have sex with you again.”

  He took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. “Whatever works.” Her answering giggle was a very un-Lowey-like sound. She tried so hard to be stoic all the time, to be tough as nails and to never let anyone see the softer side of her, the sweetness under the salt.

  “Thank you,” he added.

  “What for?”

  “For coming here with me… for letting me show everyone that you’re special, that you’re different and that somehow I’m different with you.”

  She stopped then, blinking at him, her lips parted in a soft ‘o’. “You gotta stop saying things like that to me… If you’re playing me, Quent—.”

  “I’m not playing you, Lowey. Playing you was never my intent. I just never expected to have these feelings… not for you or anyone.”

  “Why do you close yourself off so much?” she asked. “I know why I do it, but you seemed to grow up in the perfect family.”

  He laughed bitterly. “Not perfect… about as far from it as possible. Living with Samuel Darcy was like lighting matches sitting on top of a powder keg. You knew it would go off, just not when.”

  Recalling the fights, the blow-ups, the endless stream of disapproval where nothing they ever did was good enough, he wondered that any of them could have been even remotely functional as adults. But he’d born the brunt of it, in retrospect.

  Clayton had been good at everything, excelling at sports, at academics. Mia had been an angel, right up until Bennett Hayes came along. But he’d been the trouble maker, always getting into fights, getting into trouble, ready to swing his fists at the drop of a hat. He couldn’t count the number of times that Samuel had told him how unlovable he was, how worthless he was and how he would never amount to anything.

  But Patricia had always been there, always available to hug him and to tell him that he was worth something. “Mom made it bearable,” he admitted, “But Samuel… he’s a son of a bitch. Cold through to the bone.”

  “I wish I’d known her better,” Lowey said softly, as they paused on the steps of the porch. “What I did know of her was pretty damned impressive.”

  “I wish you could have too,” he agreed, and then crossed the porch to knock on the door. “Come on. Let’s get in here so my siblings can bust my balls and you can enjoy watching someone else abuse me for a change.”

  ***

  Silas had taken a car from the impound lot, one that wouldn’t be missed and that wouldn’t draw notice. The compact was just about as nondescript as a car could be. He’d let himself into The Kicking Mule and helped himself to one of the guns Lowey kept stashed under the counter. It hadn’t been difficult. The place was shot all to hell thanks to his asshole cousin. The door was barely on the hinges after all that.

  When Joey’s truck pulled into the parking lot, Silas braced himself for what he was going to have to do. He didn’t take it lightly. The Barnes clan was as dysfunctional as one family could be, but blood was blood and the idea of having to take out one of his own didn’t sit well with him. But if he’d learned one thing in his years of having Samuel Darcy on his back like he was in a goddamn harness, you did what was necessary.

  As Joey got out and crossed the parking lot of the nearly deserted cafe, Silas turned the key in the ignition to start the engine. Joey climbed in and Silas nodded. “We need to go some place a little more private… I didn’t think there’d be so many people still here.”

  Joey eyed the thinning crowd. “There’s all of five people here, Si, and most of them are so damned old they can’t see five feet in front of ‘em much less across the parking lot.”

  Silas ignored the complaints and turned the car back onto the highway. “You may not have a reputation to protect in this town, but I do. I still need these asshats to vote for me.”

  Joey’s eye roll spoke volumes. “You could be raking in a fortune if you wanted to, but you’re still too worried about what these people think of you.”

  And that was the difference between them. Joey had eyes on getting rich quick. Silas knew that he’d get more in the long run by playing his cards right and angling for higher offices. That meant damage control by any means necessary.

  Taking the highway out of town and towards Fire Creek, Silas slowed when he reached the turn off for the abandoned house. He had the gun in his hand before the car even came to a full stop.

  “Get out of the car, Joey,” he said.

  “What the fuck are you doing?”

  Silas shook his head. “You’re making problems. Bigger problems than I can afford to handle. You bring those drugs into this town and any shot I have at becoming a senator are long gone.”

  “It’s too fucking late for that,” Joey said. “They’re already here… We’ve already got the distribution set up! These guys get disappointed and no one in this town is going to be safe!”

  “That’s a chance I’ll have to take,” Silas replied. “But the bottom line is, you’re a threat to me, Joey… a threat to my future goals. You’re more valuable to me as a casualty to domestic violence… You’ll go from being a liability to being a platform.”

  “Then shoot me in this fucking car if you’re going to, because I’m not getting out and making it easy for you,” Joey said.

  Before Silas could react, Joey had lunged at him. They struggled, both of them grappling for control of the weapon. Silas cursed, gritting his teeth as he tried to keep the younger man from twisting the pistol from his grasp. Just when he thought it was over, when he thought Joey had won, his cousin’s finger slipped on the trigger.

  The sound was deafening in the car, but it was the smell that hit him instantly. The faint burning smell and the coppery aroma of blood mingled sickeningly in the small space.

  Joey gasped, his mouth working as blood bubbled from between his parted lips. It wasn’t the first time he’d watched someone die. Hell, it wasn’t even the first time he’d watched someone die by his own hand. But it was the first time that he’d killed someone he’d taken care of as a child, someone whose funeral he’d have to attend as one of the bereaved.

  Climbing out of the car, he walked around to the passenger side and opened the door. Dragging Joey’s still warm but lifeless body out of the vehicle, he concealed it in the trees. All that was left was to clean the car, return it to impound and burn his clothes. The gun would go back to The Kicking Mule and when Joey was reported missing, his body would be found after an appropriately difficult search, and questioning his ex-wife, with their long history of bad blood, would be the only logical option.

  Fourteen

  They didn’t eat in the dining room and no one dressed for dinner. All her Downton Abbey-esque visions of the grandeur of being a Darcy were dashed as they huddled around the kitchen island eating burgers and drinking beer straight from the bottles. Lowey watched them for a moment, taking in the easy way they all talked with one another, the comfort and camaraderie they had with one another.

  She’d never had that, she realized. Not with anyone in her life had she ever been so at ease. The closest she’d come to that was with Quentin, but still it was a revelation to see him in this light. Good natured, charming, as close to being at peace as she’d ever witnessed him.

  “So, tell me, Lowey, have you hired a contractor to patch up the bar yet?”

  The question had come from Bennett. “No, not yet. Until the insurance adjuster gets back to me, I won’t really know if that’s even feasible. It’s a lot of damage and I’m fairly certain I am underinsured,” she answered.

  “It’ll be all right,” he said. “I can drag Carter down there and we’ll help you put it right. We work for beer, too.”

  “It will be put
back together,” Quentin promised. “I’ll help, too. Even if it does mean hanging out with two Hayses. Double the fun. Yay.”

  Mia flicked a plastic fork in Quentin’s direction. “Be nice or you will pay for it.” Bennett laughed but she tossed a glare at him. “You too. I’m done with people in this family fighting and carrying on with each other and with the rest of the world… And FYI, Quentin, I invited Ciaran tonight but he couldn’t make it. The next time you two are in a room together, if there’s any blood spilled, I will skin you both. Is that clear?”

  Lowey watched Quentin duck his head to hide his grin as he muttered, “Yes, ma’am.”

  When he glanced over at her, she saw it in him—the darkness that was simply a part of him. He was in his element here, laughing and joking with his family, to the point that she was keenly aware of the fact that she was an outsider. But with that little glimpse, she realized something else, something far more important than the fact that she didn’t quite fit in with the whole Darcy crowd. There was a part of him that only she knew, a part of him that no one else would ever see.

  It set her at ease, seeing that in him. It gave her a sense of relief because in that moment, she knew that whether she belonged with them, she still belonged with him.

  He moved closer to her, leaning down to whisper against her ear. “You okay?”

  “I am now,” she answered. “How are you? Ribs hurting?”

  “Only when I laugh. Or breathe. Or move. Or think… but I’m good. Another beer and I’ll be amazing, in fact.”

  “Have all you want. I’ll drive us home… I could get used to touring around in your baby.”

  “Whoa… hold up. He let you drive his car?” Clayton demanded, gaping at them both. “I’m his goddamn brother and he won’t let me drive it!”

  “Yes, but I have boobs,” Lowey answered.

  “They do provide a lot of opportunity, don’t they?” Annalee observed. “Now, close your mouth, Clayton.”