by Anna Brooks
“I was young and stupid and trying to be a good man, when not knowing what that really meant would have been letting her go. But I thought if I did that, I would be a dick because it’d seem like I’d just been with her to sleep with her. I wanted to show my sisters that it was worth waiting to be with someone who cared about them. And they loved Eva. She was like the big sister they never had; well, that Willow never had. I felt obligated. I stayed with her because, as much as I knew it was wrong, I’d get pussy whenever I wanted, but also because I’d have felt guilty if I broke it off with her.”
Christ, that makes me sound like a dick.
“We went to separate colleges, tried the long-distance thing, but I was miserable, so I grew some balls and called it off. I sowed some wild oats, and she did the same. We ended up back at home and hooked up. Then she’d turn into a bitch, throw in my face that I broke up with her during college, make me feel guilty, then I’d stay. I’d be gone at work, and she’d give me shit for not being home. Then we’d fight and break up. It’s been that way for over a decade, and swear to God, I never was as happy with her as I am with you. You make me see how it should be. Made me realize what I really wanted.
“And the kid… it’s not mine. She’s throwing a Hail Mary, hoping I’ll believe her shit, but I’m done. Christ, I’m finally done.”
Fuck, she still isn’t looking at me. This is not what she needs right now. My shit isn’t supposed to touch her ever, but especially not now. I put my hands on her shoulders and my lips by her ear. “I didn’t tell you any of this because it didn’t affect you. She’s a straight-up mean, vindictive woman who doesn’t need to ever even breathe the same air as you. But now? Now she got in your face, and that’s not okay with me. She can fuck with me, she’s even trying to fuck with my nana, but not she—or anybody—gets to ever fuck with you. She pissed me off with her bullshit, but what she did just now, that pushed me over the edge.”
Chapter 10
Quinn
I want to believe him, but I don’t. Not as I stand here and stare at the pictures of them as teenagers and her with their family. His grandmother in the kitchen with her. His niece sitting on her lap, recently, too. No, I don’t believe him. You can’t have that kind of history with someone and just end it. Even if he did, what he feels for me isn’t real. It’s just because he’s a natural protector, and his feelings are amplified because of what’s happening to me right now. It makes sense. The more I get to know him the more I know he’s a good and decent man who is super protective.
But once he realizes I’m just a rebound, he’ll go back to her. She’s pregnant. He’s been with her forever, so there’s no way he’s going to just leave her for good right now.
He’s too nice.
He’ll end up back with her, especially because they’re going to have a baby. He might not think it’s his, but seriously… with their history… how can he just walk away?
He’s too caring to break up with me or call off whatever it is we have, so I’ll have to be the one to do it. Plus, and this is what kills me… he’s going to be a father. I don’t want him risking his life with a crazy man who’s after me. Wes needs to be safe to be there for his child, and that means not with me.
So I’ll do it. I’ll end what was barely started and hate every minute of it, but… not yet. I need out of his apartment, and I need to be alone.
So, faking it like always, I turn around with a smile, thankful my sunglasses are still on so he can’t see my eyes. “Okay.”
He raises a brow, skeptical as I’m sure he can tell I’m lying. “Baby, I—”
“It’s fine. Let’s get what you need, though, because we don’t want to be late to meet with Ian, remember?”
Thank God—and I am definitely sending a prayer up to him tonight—Wesley’s phone rings. He tilts my face up and gives me a soft kiss before sliding his finger across the screen and walking down the hallway.
* * *
“Did you hear me, Quinn?” Ian asks, and I shake my head, clearing it of the thoughts about Wesley and his baby mama drama clouding my mind. After he grabbed some shit he needed from his apartment, he drove me to my house, where some familiar guards and a couple of new ones awaited, all Wesley approved.
He didn’t talk, but his hand gripped mine tighter than normal. I didn’t pull away, but mentally, I was already preparing myself the entire way here.
Before I got out of his Hummer, he leaned over the console, threw my sunglasses to the floor, cupped my face, and rested his forehead on mine. “Quinn.” Then he said my name. That was it.
My eyes filled with tears, but since his were closed, he didn’t see. Finally, he pulled back and ran his thumb along the apple of my cheek.
Then we went inside.
I unpacked my bag, tied my hair up, and took a shower, not because I needed one, but because I needed space. I’m dangerously close to falling completely head over heels in love with a man I can’t have all of, and being around him is making me feel powerless. More powerless than I ever have in my life.
“Yeah, sorry. I heard you,” I tell Ian with a smile.
“It’s understandable.” He squeezes my hand over the table, and even though he’s completely professional and a totally nice guy who’s about fifty, Wes still watches. “You’ve had a rough go of it lately.”
“Thanks. So you’ve rescheduled the six dates we just canceled…”
I need to be busy, but I’m still freaked about whoever the hell cut me. How he got past security with a knife. How he got so close to me without anyone seeing. But it won’t stop me from working. I agreed to have some dates moved around, but I’m not going to be in hiding. We had the days at his cabin, but it’s back to work now.
So after Ian leaves, I sit on a stool by the kitchen island talking to Beverly as she makes dinner. Wes leans on the wall, doing more than guarding me.
He’s studying me.
Taking it all in. He knows something else is wrong.
I eat a small dinner of salad and a half of a chicken breast because my stomach is not up for more. Especially not the other three pieces she made. “Please take the rest of this home for Terry.”
“No.” Beverly dries her hands on her flowery apron. “It’ll be here for you tomorrow.”
“Please. It’s not going to get eaten.” I give her a pouty face, something we do often when she makes so much food. There’s no need for it to go to waste, so I always insist she takes the stuff I won’t eat home. But she always says no first.
She presses her lips together, suppressing her laughter. “Okay, fine.”
“Good. Have a great night, okay?” I need this normalcy right now even if it’s just for a minute.
“You too, dear. If there’s anything I can do, just let me know.”
“I will. Bye, Beverly.”
Wes talks into a little microphone clipped on the buttons of his black shirt. Another guard comes around the corner and escorts her out while I head to my room. Shutting the door behind me, I lock it, then lean against it and take a few breaths.
I don’t know if I can do this.
The thought of not having him close makes me nauseous, but at the same time, the thought of something happening to him because of me, and subsequently not being in his kid’s life, is worse.
I need a distraction, something to get me out of my own head. So I change my clothes and am not surprised that he’s leaning on the wall directly across from my room when I open the door. His arms are crossed and his jaw tight. I quickly look at my feet and then go down to the gym. While there, I put my earbuds in and hit the stair-climber. Wesley’s presence is unavoidable, but I try to ignore it.
Ludacris is rapping in my ear, and my thighs protest, but I keep pushing. Sweat drips down my back and between my breasts, the ache in my muscles turning into a slow burn, but I love it because it gives me something else to focus on.
I lurch forward when the machine stops and yank a bud out. “What the hell?”
“Ge
t your ass down and come here, Quinn.”
“What? No, I’m working out.”
“You’re avoiding me, and it’s pissing me off.”
I scowl at him and pop the earbud back in, then push the button to resume. I feel his hands on my hips when the entire room goes black. Somehow, even though my headphones are screaming, Move, Bitch, I completely freeze.
I’m yanked down and pulled against Wesley’s chest while he rips the earbuds off me.
“Oh, my God.”
“Shh. I’ve got you.”
I hear a click of something metal and then his voice, alert and focused. “Get the fucking power back on.”
“Wes.” I’m tense in his arms as the sweat turns to ice on my skin.
“Quiet, baby. I need to hear.”
He grabs my phone, slides some buttons so the music shuts off, then the flashlight comes on. Moving me behind him, he walks to the door, closes it, and locks it. He pauses, touches the hand with the phone to his ear, then talks into the microphone. “Yeah. No, she’s with me. Give me something. Fuck, yeah. Copy.”
I want so badly to ask him what’s going on, but I press my lips together. He slowly creeps around the room, shining the light in corners and the supply closet.
“Wes.”
“Give me a second. The generator should have kicked on by now.”
“My power has never gone out before.”
He doesn’t reply, and after a couple of minutes of tense waiting, he pulls me in front of him and wraps both of his arms around me. It’s only now that I realize I’m shaking. “You’re okay. I’m right here.”
Burrowing my face into his chest, I try to make myself as small as possible. A noise comes from outside the room, and he whips me around and shoves me in the corner, then stands in front of me. Being a shield.
I get a literal jolt of electricity when the generator finally kicks on.
He presses a finger to his ear and acknowledges whoever was talking, then turns to me. “The whole block lost power. There was an accident up the road, and they must’ve hit something that jacked up the grid,” he relays to me.
“Oh, good.” I breathe a sigh of relief and twist out of his grip.
“I don’t like you down here right now, though. Let’s go upstairs.”
Wesley
“Can I take a shower?” she asks me as we’re sitting on her bed in the dark, a candle and a little bit of moonlight our only light sources in her room since the generator is mainly powering the security system. Minimal lights are on in the rest of the house while we wait for the electric company to fix the fuckin’ grid.
“No,” I answer. She turns away from me, but I grab her face. “What’s your deal?”
“Nothing.”
“Now you’re lying to me.”
“I need a shower.”
“No, you want to be away from me, and that’s not happening.” She tries to drop her head, but I dip mine closer. “You have a lot going on.”
She doesn’t take her eyes off mine but doesn’t answer either. And even though no words come from her mouth, she’s telling me more than I want to know. I see her talking herself into it. Contemplating, debating. Fighting with what she knows is right.
“Don’t push me away. You’re scared, I get it. But you need me now more than ever, so if you need space, I can give you that, just not right now.”
The second she goes to open her mouth, my phone vibrates. Pulling it out, I see it’s my baby sister. “Hey, Wynn.”
“You cheated on Eva with fucking Quinn Valentine? What is wrong with you, Wesley Steven? I never thought you’d be such a pig. I get that she’s pretty or whatever, but isn’t that like the number one rule that you don’t sleep with clients. And Eva’s pregnant with your baby, God… how could you do that?”
Quinn’s expression falls yet hardens at the same time, and I stand from the bed. “Thanks for that, Wynn. I’m sittin’ right next to my girl, and the first time she gets to meet you it’s because you’re talkin’ outta your ass.”
“What?” she breathes.
“If you maybe opened up with that, I’d tell you, but considering I’ve got a psycho after Quinn and all the power in her house just went out, I’m not going to take the time. I answered the call because you’re pregnant, and I wanted to make sure everything was good.”
“We’re fine.”
The tension in my back shoots up to my neck, and I twist my head to lessen the pressure. “Good. I’ll call you later.”
As soon as I hang up the phone, Quinn starts her shit. “If you need to go and deal with—”
“I’m here, babe.”
“But—”
“Quinn. I’m here.”
She’s getting antsy. Frustrated. I can tell all the shit is catching up to her. The slice in her palm, her aunt, her dad, fuckin’ Eva, and now this shit with the power. Christ, her teeth were chattering downstairs when it was pitch black. I didn’t like that, and I do not like this. It seems way too convenient for my liking. I wouldn’t put it past this guy to find a way to knock out the power so he could sneak in the house again. He did something to bypass her system the first time he broke in, so I know he’s capable.
“I heard you, ya know?” she says as if I’m supposed to know what she’s talking about.
“When?”
“At the cabin, when Eva came to tell you she was pregnant.”
Fucking fuck me. “Baby, it’s not my kid.”
“How long ago did you break up with her?”
“Few months before I met you.” Which, of course, would mean that Eva would have been pregnant enough at that point that there would have been some signs.
“Riiight.” She nods. “So I’m a rebound, then?”
Hell, no. Oh, fuck no, she is not doing this. “You need to think real long and hard about the direction this conversation is going, Quinn.”
“And you need to do right by your baby, Wes.”
“Did you not hear me three seconds ago? Or earlier today. It’s not my kid.” She must not have heard the part where Eva confirmed there is basically no chance I can even have kids.
She huffs in disbelief, and if she wasn’t acting like such a brat right now, I’d maybe clue her in as to why. But what I have to tell her about my inability to father a child is not something I’m going to bare to her while we’re in the middle of a fight. Plus, if she can’t take my word and trust me, then we have a bigger problem.
“Okay, Wes.”
“This is not the time to do this.”
“It never will be a good time, but it needs to happen.”
Chapter 11
Quinn
“What needs to happen?” he practically growls at me.
It’s a horrible time, but it’s now or never. “How can I compete with her?”
“Are you seriously asking me that?”
God, this hurts. This hurts worse than anything I’ve ever experienced. I got a taste… just a little one when I thought he was different. And he is. He’s so different. And he’s perfect. Perfect for me.
But I’m not her. I’ll never be her, and I can’t be. I’m not the girl who he has pictures with in his yearbook. Not the one who went to prom with him. I never had dinner with his grandma. His little sisters don’t look up to me as the big sister they never had. I’m not his first anything. Not even the first girl he was going to marry.
“Yeah, I’m seriously asking that, but you don’t need to answer.” I hold my hand up, drop my head, and then take a breath. When I straighten myself out, I have my mask expertly applied, and his face contorts into shock. “You’re my bodyguard, Wesley. You helped me, so much, and I’m forever grateful. But that’s all. We… we did stuff, and you were kind to me. I appreciate that, but it was never going to go any further.”
“That’s all?” he says, mocking me. “We did stuff, and I was kind to you.” His voice takes on a sinister tone I do not like being on the receiving end of.
“Well, yeah. This was never going
to last. You and she have history and—”
“That’s exactly what it fuckin’ is. History.”
For every second I have to sit here and look at him, it gets harder and harder to keep balanced. “I can’t compete with that,” I whisper. “And I don’t want to.” And I don’t want him to have to. I have nothing to offer him. Nothing but a superficial life where everyone thinks from the outside it’s perfect when nothing could be further from the truth. I’m a mess. And he has a child on the way. I’ll just keep coming up with excuses and reasons in my own head as to why this is a bad idea.
“So what? You’re gonna walk away from me. From us.”
Regrettably, I shake my head. “There is no us.”
“I see. So when I was inside you, when you let me in where only one other asshole’s been in your entire life, when you felt me movin’ deep, you’re telling me the only thing I hit was your G-spot? I didn’t make my way up further? Your heart felt nothing?” I don’t even try to answer as he continues. “Because mine did. I felt a fuck of a lot more than just an orgasm. But hey, if you got out of me what you wanted, then I guess my job here is done.”
“Thanks for that.”
He pins me with a look of disgust I’ve never seen before, and one that will haunt my dreams more than the man who held a knife at my throat. “I’ll get someone else up here… probably Damien. But just a heads-up, he won’t want sloppy seconds, so if that ain’t gonna work for you, you might wanna contact another agency who’s down with sharing.”
My mouth falls open, but he’s not done.
“You’re right, though. You can’t compete with her. You didn’t have to. You already gave me more than she ever fucking did. Ever, Quinn. We had history, yeah, but you were my future. Looking back on my life with her was dark and cold, but forward…” He laughs without humor. “Bright. So damn bright and so fuckin’ warm.”