Release Me If You Can

by Christina C Jones

  “Wrong,” Naomi said, finally seeming fully engaged as she sat up. “Good sex is exactly what you need, to burn off some of that stress. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been in the middle of plans for a really stressful job and had to just take a break and get taken care of. It always worked. My mind would be clear, joints loose, great attitude… trust me. Sex during times like this is a magical thing.”

  Inez nodded. “Naomi is right. Some of my best work happened after getting tossed around all night. Don’t you… I don’t know, hack better after great sex?”

  Swallowing hard, Renata quickly found something else to look at as she searched her mind for an answer to the question that had caught her completely off guard. She could feel Inez and Naomi both staring at her, so she reluctantly turned her attention back to them.

  “Renata…Have you never…?”

  Naomi didn’t even have to finish her question before Renata knew what was being asked, and began shaking her head to respond.

  “Like… never?” Inez asked.

  Renata shook her head again.

  Nope.

  Like… never.

  Unless you counted the experience with Wolfe, which she didn’t. Her memory of the events leading up to her assault were clear in her mind, but she — blissfully — had no memory of the act itself. Even so… the trauma of that experience had lived with her, guiding her through every interaction she had with a man moving forward. No, they couldn’t buy her a drink. No, they couldn’t pick her up for a date. No, she couldn’t come to his house to “chill”.

  Eventually, she lightened a little on that, and allowed herself to date. Never the complete strangers who asked her out though. Always, always men who she saw with some regularity, the guy at the bank, or the grocery store, or the gym. Places where she could find out a real name, then run him through every legal or illegal background check she could, finding out every connection, every blip on his criminal record, every parking ticket or fine, everything before she allowed herself to be alone with him, especially in a position where her safety could be compromised. And even then… she never felt quite comfortable, so it rarely got past a kiss.

  There was one guy though. A police officer she’d worked with who asked her out. He was handsome, and smart, and just a good guy. And patient. They dated longer than she’d ever dated anyone, and there came a point where she thought she trusted him enough for sex… until her clothes were off. Then, she felt so uneasy and distressed that even he felt it. He was sweet to her about it, but after that it just… fizzled out.

  “So… you’re basically a virgin?”

  Naomi’s words brought Renata out of her memories, and she shook her head. “No. I mean… I have a kid. I don’t really know that I can call myself a virgin.”

  “Uh-uh.” Inez wagged a finger in the air. “You have to give your virginity. If you didn’t give it, you’ve still got it.”

  “And she wants to give it to Quentin,” Naomi chimed in, giggling as she turned to Renata. “Consider yourself lucky. You’re gonna get what most women don’t. A virginity loss experience that’s actually good.”

  Renata knew that statement was supposed to be encouraging, but coming from Naomi, it only highlighted another fear she had. She ran her tongue over her lips to wet them, then looked right at Naomi.

  “So… you and Quentin… is there anything….?”

  At first, Naomi just lifted an eyebrow, but then her eyes went wide, and she shook her head. “Like, romantically? No. I mean…” Naomi paused for a moment, brushing her hair back from her face, and Renata could tell she was carefully considering her words. “I’m going to move forward with the assumption that you already know there was something, or else you wouldn’t ask, but I promise you, you have nothing to be concerned about. Q and I are very good friends, absolutely, but anything beyond that was purely… fucking,” she said bluntly, shrugging afterwards.

  Renata tipped her head to the side. “So, no romantic feelings?”

  Naomi scoffed. “Never. I’ve known Quentin damn near all my life, and I’ve only ever known him to have that kind of feelings for one person.”

  Who?

  Renata bit her lip to keep herself from asking that question, although she desperately wanted to know. She quickly realized she must have been showing her curiosity on her face, because Inez started laughing, shaking her head.

  “Ay dios mío, Ren. She’s talking about you, don’t look so concerned.”

  “Me?” Renata gave a dry laugh. “I… I’m not so sure Quentin is checking for me like that.”

  Naomi and Inez looked at each other, then both broke into laughter.

  “Chiquita, after that day Wolfe called, and you went into that little funk for a few days? Q was down there peeking his head in the door to check on you every hour on the hour. Has been up all hours of the night, working double time to find out every little detail about King and Wolfe, to help you. And the man looks at you like you hung the moon in the sky. What more evidence do you need that he’s feeling you?”

  Leaning forward, Naomi chimed in. “And not to mention, Marcus told me he walked in on you two sucking face.”

  Heat rushed to Renata’s cheeks as Inez’s mouth spread into a smile.

  “He kissed you?”

  Renata gave her a subtle nod, then held up two fingers.

  “He’s kissed you twice?” Inez rolled her eyes. “What planet are you from, Ren? How do you doubt that he likes you “like that” when he’s kissed you? Twice.”

  Groaning, Renata reached up to sweep her braids over her shoulder. “The planet of 30 year olds who have no real experience with men. Marcus and Kendall are the longest, closest “real life” relationships I’ve ever had with a man, and the most either of them has ever given me is a hug. I’ve tried romantic stuff, and it just… doesn’t seem to work. There was one guy where we got far enough to take off clothes, and I freaked out.”

  “Why did you freak out?” Naomi asked, absently swirling her spoon in her cold coffee.

  Renata shrugged. “I guess… I was only really doing it because I felt like I should. It was two years ago, and Wolfe hadn’t bothered me in a while, so… I started trying to build some normalcy. So… I met a guy, and he was nice, and sweet, so I guess I figured that was enough, but looking back I can see that I was forcing it. Which is probably why when we tried to have sex, I clammed up. We didn’t have any chemistry. Not like…”

  “Not like what you feel with Quentin?”

  With a wry smile, Renata nodded. “But… I don’t understand how you guys can be so sure he likes me, when the times that we’ve been alone… he pulled away.”

  “Because he likes you,” Inez said, covering Renata’s hand with hers. “Knowing the things that you’ve been through, knowing what you’re still going through now… he probably just wants to give you some breathing room. You probably need some breathing room.”

  Across the table, Naomi agreed. “I know we were encouraging you to go for it, and do it, but… just take it easy. I don’t mean to sound like I’m giving advice to a teenager, but… it’ll happen when it’s the right time.” Just then, Naomi’s phone chimed, effectively ending their conversation. She smirked at the screen, then stood, pushing in her chair.

  Inez patted Renata’s hand. “So, do you feel any better?

  “I do, actually. Thanks guys.”

  The three women headed inside, where Naomi took off for another part of the house, Inez began searching the refrigerator for breakfast, and Renata headed for the “war room”, which had become her and Quentin’s preferred workspace.

  She powered on her laptop, started the basic programs she used nearly every day, and then… did nothing.

  She couldn’t focus.

  After the stream of new information and advice she’d just gotten from Naomi and Inez, her head was swimming with possibilities.

  — & —

  “You rang?” Naomi asked, stepping into Quentin’s room as he pulled his shirt over
his head. He nodded, then grabbed his phone from the dresser, tossing it to her.

  She caught it, but the catch was so clumsy that it made Quentin do a double take as he sat down at the desk. Naomi didn’t do clumsy.

  “You a’ight?”

  Naomi responded to his question with a dismissive nod of her head as she turned on the screen of his phone. “What am I looking at?”

  “The first text message,” he said, tipping his head to the side. He knew from many long years of experience that his question had just been ignored, but he also knew better than to press it. If he mentioned that she seemed a little clumsy, that he’d been concerned about her energy level even before the attack, and that she just frankly looked tired… her response wouldn’t be pretty, and the conversation wouldn’t turn into anything productive. He’d just mention it to Marcus instead, since the two of them seemed to get off on that arguing shit.

  “Heard about all those… holes in your car. Should probably leave hacker bitch alone. Hope she liked the work at her apartment.” After reading the message aloud, Naomi closed her eyes, squeezing her hand into a fist. “Hacker bitch? This is Royale,” she said, tapping her finger against the phone.

  “Tell me somethin’ I don’t know, cher.” Quentin leaned back in the swiveling chair, propping his hands behind his head. “What I’m trying to figure out is where this all fits? Was she just finishing what Lucas started with you, or is this her own agenda?”

  Naomi shook her head. “Probably both. I knew this bitch was crazy, but not this crazy. At the house, she was talking about keeping you alive, now she’s sending out hitmen?”

  “Hold up… at the house?”

  “Yeah,” Naomi nodded, tossing his phone back to him. “Lucas’s house. She mentioned seeing if she could get permission to keep you… as her personal boy toy.”

  Quentin lifted an eyebrow. “Is that right?”

  “That’s right.” Shaking her head, Naomi laughed. “She is… for real gone in the head. If the circumstances were different I would laugh, but this chick is dangerous. What are we going to do about her?”

  Shrugging, Quentin leaned forward, balancing his elbows on the tops of his thighs as he propped his chin in his hands. “Well… gotta find her first. After that… I say snatch and grab. Bring her here, see what she knows, then turn her over to the FBI with that video of her cutting Rochas’ throat in Barbados.”

  “That’s it?” Naomi whined. “No… creative interrogation? Beating her to the white meat? Perhaps a bullet to the head?”

  Quentin chuckled. “Well… we probably shouldn’t involve any bullets, but you and Inez can be as inventive as you want with getting information out of her. I know that “enhanced fact finding” bullshit is right up her alley.”

  “Damn straight.” Naomi smiled, then a flicker of… something crossed her eyes, and she placed a hand on her stomach briefly before dropping it away. “So… who’ll do the actual grabbing?”

  “I would think,” he started, carefully watching her face for reactions, “You’d be ready to kick my ass if I suggested anybody but you, so... what's up? Scared you'll kill her on sight?”

  Naomi gave him a dry smile. “Well, that, yeah. But, I also just … think I should sit this one out.”

  She went quiet after that, and Quentin couldn't get over the weird, overly cautious vibe she was putting off now that it was time to make a plan.

  “Mimi... this ain't the time to bullshit me... spit it out. The hell is going on?”

  After a deep breath, Naomi looked up at him, bringing her hand to her stomach again. “Q... I'm... pregnant.”

  What?

  His eyes dropped to her hand, covering her still-flat belly, — which let him know it couldn't be his, she would have to be much further along— as the air expelled from his lungs.

  Pregnant?

  “Wow... uh, does Marcus know yet?” He asked, moving his gaze up to her face.

  Naomi tipped her head to the side, expression drawn into a scowl before she rolled her eyes. “I like your roundabout way of asking if it's yours, asshole. Yes, Marcus knows, and to ease your mind, I'm only six weeks. Congrats, you're not a daddy.”

  Quentin groaned. “Come on, Mimi, don't be like that. You know— “

  “Yeah, yeah,” she said, her scowl shifting into a grin as she waved a hand to dismiss his words. “I'm messing with you, fool. I know you wouldn't have played me like that.”

  His shoulders sagged in relief. He would have — eventually — warmed to the idea of a baby, but Naomi was his friend. He loved her as such, but she was not who he imagined as the mother of his kids. And as sacred as the idea of a family was to Naomi, he knew he wasn't her ideal father either.

  “Good,” he said, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Women have me confused enough this week. How are you feeling?”

  She shrugged. “I feel okay. But let's go back to you and this confusion for a second... trouble in hacker romance paradise?”

  “You could say that.”

  Nodding, Naomi made her way over to the bed, and sat down opposite Quentin's place at the desk. “So... spill it.”

  Quentin tossed his head back and laughed. “So you're really gonna change the subject here?”

  Naomi smiled. “Sure am. What's up with you and Ren?”

  “I…,” Quentin sighed, then leaned back in his chair again. “I don’t know.”

  “Bullshit, you know.” Naomi shook her head, then leaned back on her elbows. “You’ve known her all these years. You two have talked, flirted, shared secrets… yeah, you’ve dated people, she’s dated people, but… she’s never been far from your mind. And I’m pretty sure you’ve probably never been far from hers. And now you’re finally together, finally in each other’s space… misunderstandings out of the way, and you just… don’t know?”

  Quentin held up his hands, in a questioning gesture. “I don’t know what you wanna hear Mimi. Shit is… complicated.”

  “What’s complicated about it?” Naomi asked, pulling herself back into a seated position on the bed.

  “She’s goin’ through a lot right now. She doesn’t need me clouding her head, takin’ her mind off the goal.”

  Eyebrow lifted, Naomi smirked. “I beg to differ. I talked to Renata this morning — something to take her mind off things is exactly what that girl needs. She’s stressed out.”

  Quentin narrowed his eyes. Just how much talking had Renata done?

  “So what are you suggestin’?”

  Naomi’s smirk grew into a full on grin. “I’m suggesting you screw her stress away. You know you want to. You’ve been wanting to, even before you knew who she really was.”

  “Says who?”

  “Says your reaction whenever the girl walked into the room. You were hanging on her words, mouth dropped open, drooling—”

  “Okay, you’re exaggerating.”

  “Barely,” Naomi agreed, laughing. “In any case, like I said…Renata needs to decompress. It’s been a stressful week, and I just think if she’s willing, and you’re willing, the hell are you waiting on?”

  Quentin groaned, clapping a hand to his forehead. “I’m waiting to not feel like a fuckin’ creep. She’s…” He hesitated for a moment, then remembered that this was Naomi he was talking to. He didn’t have to downplay anything for her. “Ren is… important to me. Really important. I feel like there’s a chance for something to happen there, and… I don’t wanna mess it up.”

  Tipping her head to the side, Naomi gave him a little smile. “I know. And I know you’re trying to be all… gentlemanly, and respectful, and all of that. But… even with everything going on… Renata is still a woman. I’m not suggesting you should try to seduce her or anything, but… follow her lead. On the surface, it may seem like she’s fragile, or weak, but… that’s not really the case at all, is it? Look at all she’s endured, alone. She had you, from a distance, but who else? Nobody except her child. And she’s been out here living her life, kicking ass at her job, wearing
a smile on her face… in spite of stuff that would have torn a lot of people down. I think that… when you bottle so much up, just so you can function, it weighs on you.”

  Naomi stopped for a moment, staring down at her hands before she shook her head. “Ren and I share a… unique type of pain. A rare sort of fear, a constant, unmoving shadow over our lives, put there by Damien Wolfe. And it’s… a really lonely place. Renata doesn’t need a “friend”, Q. She needs her soul pulled out of a really dark place that “friends” can’t reach. She needs somebody to make love to her, and hold her, and make her feel… human again. Somebody to wake her spirit up, and love it back to life.”

  She raised a hand to her belly again, smiling a little before she looked back up at Quentin. “Marcus… he did that for me. He’s doing that for me. I think you’re probably the right person to do it for Renata.”

  For several minutes, neither of them said anything. Naomi seemed to be lost in her own thoughts, and Quentin was running over everything she’d said, trying to make it all fit. Eventually, he realized that just thinking through it wasn’t going to help anything or anyone. He wasn’t sure about the philosophical, soul-mate stuff Naomi was talking about, but… he was sure that he cared about Ren. Following her lead… that was something he could definitely do.

  “A’ight, back to you, Mama Mimi. Now that you’ve played psychologist… my turn. I wanna know how you’re feeling about this baby.”

  As he suspected, Naomi’s expression changed. Not to anger, or annoyance, more like… apprehension. She chewed at her bottom lip for a few seconds before she lifted her gaze to his, shuffling her feet on the carpet. “I… am not sure what I feel about this baby. Mostly because I haven’t decided if I’m keeping it or not.”

  Quentin nodded. That answer didn’t shock him. He’d known Naomi long enough to know that as much as she wanted a family of her own, she wanted Wolfe eliminated more. It was hard to get around, difficult to plot takedowns with a baby bump in the way. And besides that, a kid was leverage for their enemies — leverage they couldn’t afford.

  “How does Marcus feel about that?”