Chapter 10 #2
“I suspected. Can't follow leads just based on gut, Seb. I need evidence. You lied to my face. You were withholding information that could have helped. You put yourself, and Will, in danger by omitting the truth.”
Sebastian ran a hand through his hair and took off his glasses, putting them on the bench. “Is it so easy for us to be back where we were?”
“This is different. You deliberately lied to me about this case.”
“For good reason.”
“No,” Quinn said, “ not for good reason. Because you're stubborn, and so sure that you have to go it alone, so sure that everyone will leave, and you'll be alone anyway, so you might as well do it all yourself.”
“Get out of my house.”
Quinn ignored the order. Sebastian felt frozen in place as Quinn came closer. He didn't flinch when Quinn touched his face, but it was a close call. He couldn't do this again, couldn't have Quinn question his every move again.
“I'm sorry that I didn't trust you back then,” Quinn said softly.
“ I'm sorry I didn't believe you, Seb. You hadn't given me any reason to doubt you.
I would take it back, but I can't.” His fingers trailed down Sebastian's neck, and Sebastian wished that it didn't feel so good, wished that he didn't crave it so much.
“I'm sorry that you were alone so long, and that I wasn't there to show you that you had someone to lean on.”
“I have people to lean on,” Sebastian said stiffly.
Quinn's smile was sad, and Sebastian refused to feel guilty.
“Then I'm sorry that I'm not one of them.” He gently carded his fingers through Sebastian's hair.
The softness of the touch undid Sebastian.
“I'm sorry that you felt that you had to lie to protect yourself.
I don't ever want you to think that you have to protect yourself from me.”
“I did have to,” Sebastian said. “Seeing you was hard. Seeing you move on was agony.”
“For me too,” Quinn replied. He rested their foreheads together, and Sebastian's eyes fluttered closed.
“I want to keep you safe, and I can only do that if you're willing to help me.” His kiss was so light that Sebastian almost wondered if he'd imagined it, if he'd just conjured it because he wanted it so badly. “I need you to trust me.”
“I need your trust in return.” It's all he'd ever wanted.
And what he'd never had. Quinn had seen ghosts where there had been none.
Hadn't ever believed that Sebastian had been so in love with him that he hadn't even looked at anyone else, let alone any of the accusations that had been thrown at him.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Sebastian said, rearing his head back. “It can't be that easy.”
“No,” Quinn agreed. “But it's a start just to try. We're not who we were then; we've both grown. I want this to work, but we both need to be willing.”
Sebastian surged forward, kissing him with a desperation he probably should have felt embarrassed about. He might have if Quinn hadn't responded in kind.
Quinn cradled the side of his head and took over the kiss.
Sebastian relaxed into it, letting him, trying to trust him.
Wanting to trust him. He wanted to give Quinn everything that he wanted; he just needed more time.
Maybe now, with a second chance, they had that time.
Maybe, with Will and Peyton, this time they were ready.
“Seriously? Did you guys turn sixteen when I wasn't looking?”
Quinn jerked away and turned, his eyes a little wide as he stared at his partner.
“If you've mastered time travel,” Sebastian said, “you might want to patent that.”
“I'll get right on it,” Grady said sarcastically.
Quinn cleared his throat. “We do need to ask you some questions.”
“Let me make some coffees, and then I'll answer what I can,” Sebastian said. “Make yourselves at home.”
They all settled in the lounge, and Sebastian sat next to Quinn, cradling his mug in his hand. “What do you need to know?”
“The case that you settled out of court the other day for the man who was found in the TOU drug raid,” Quinn said, “tell us about it.”
Fuck. Sebastian hesitated. “I can't.” That was a great one to start on. “What does that have to do with Mason?”
“They worked for the same organisation,” Grady said.
“Delgrade turned informant shortly after you defended him. He was feeding two other detectives’ information about their drug operations.
Nothing particularly useful; he wasn't that high on the food chain, but it's enough of a connection that, based on the recent attacks against you, it is of interest to us.”
“I didn't know that,” Sebastian said. “Mason disappeared after I had him acquitted.”
“He would have wanted to lie low for a while,” Quinn said.
“I can't tell you anything about the drug case,” Sebastian said. Of fucking course this had to do with Hunters personal favour. He should have known.
“Why were you only defending one of the drug traffickers?” Grady asked. “Why not all of them?”
“I was... given the case. Some I don't have a choice on.”
“Who gave it to you?” Quinn asked.
“I can't tell you. It's not the connection you're looking for, I promise.” Hunter lived in the shadows and Sebastian was sure his hands were far from clean, but he was equally sure he was a good person. And he was trying to find answers as well, the same as Quinn was.
Grady sent a “what the fuck?” look to Quinn. Sebastian braced himself, expecting Quinn to turn on him again.
“Okay,” Quinn said simply. “Did he give you any kind of information that could be a danger to you?”
“Like what?” Sebastian asked, confused.
“Insider information, something that could take down their entire operation, what they like to eat on Sundays,” Grady said, sarcasm dripping from him. “Things that a drug operation might not want to get out.”
Sebastian searched his memory for anything Warren might have said that could have been incriminating.
He hadn't really said much of anything. He'd had two conversations with the guy, and both times he'd felt like he was talking to himself.
He was glad it hadn't gone to court, because he would have had to pull bullshit out of his ass. “No, he didn't tell me anything.”
“Tell us about Delgrade,” Quinn said. “Did anything happen during his case that stands out to you? Anything that might tell us why he ended up dead at your hookups’ apartment?”
“My hookups?” Sebastian asked, smirking. “Should I tell Will and Peyton you called them that?”
“It's what it was, isn't it?” Quinn replied, looking down at his phone. Sebastian peered over, and it just looked like boring notes. “Answer the question and try to keep the sarcasm to a minimum.”
“You're no fun in work mode, Quinn.”
The corner of Quinn's mouth lifted, but he didn't look up. “Nothing stands out to you?”
“No. I've had more cases than I want to admit—if only for the sake of my sanity—since then. I don't know why he was killed, and I don't know why I'm being targeted. I don't know what else I can tell you.”
Quinn sighed and then stood. “All right. We need to get going, then. If you think of anything—?”
“I'll call you,” Sebastian promised.
He didn't let Quinn leave without giving him another kiss, because he could now, and he would take every opportunity.
Quinn pulled up in the front of the small cottage-style house and hoped that the small white Tesla meant that the owner was home.
“What the fuck is that?” Grady exclaimed.
“I think it's an electric car,” Quinn said as he stepped out of the car. “It's a Tesla. There's a significant price tag attached to this model if I remember correctly.” He fished out his phone and did a quick search. 'Triple-digit price tag,” he confirmed.
Grady whistled. “Hate to know what the payment plan is.”
Quinn called the station and waited. He bit back a sigh when Greer answered with a terse, “What?”
“Try to use your manners.”
“What do you want, Hughes?”
“I was after the front reception.”
“Guess they don't know how to answer their phone. Call back later.”
“Wait.”
“Fuck, what?”
“I need you to run a number plate for me.”
Greer sighed loudly. “Do I look like your lapdog?”
“I'm not in the mood to argue with you right now. Either transfer me or run the plates. And see if you can find registration and payment information.”
“Want me to fetch you a fucking coffee while I'm at it?”
“Might be a bit cold by the time we get back.”
Grady raised a brow in question, and Quinn just shook his head. If Grady tried to take his phone, then he and Greer would get into it, and then he'd never get his information.
“What's the number?”
He hung up a few minutes later and shrugged. “No payment plan.”
“Stolen?” Grady asked, eyes lighting up.
“Sorry to burst your bubble, but no, you can't arrest the old lady. The car is fully paid for. By Richard Burrows.”
“The dead jogger?” Grady said, brows furrowing. “The fuck?”
Quinn had no idea what was going on. He made his way up the front steps, glancing to the side when the curtains fluttered. Someone had been watching them.
Quinn had known the woman was seventy-six, based on the information they'd been able to find on her, but he hadn't quite expected someone so small and fragile looking.
“Miss Gloria Pilla?”
“Yes?” She glanced warily between them. “Is this about my grandson? He was a good boy.”
Grady cleared his throat. “I'm sorry, your grandson?”
“Richard was a good boy,” she repeated.
Quinn shared a look with Grady. Grandson? “Ma'am, do you mind if we come in and ask you a few questions?”
“Do you like peppermint tea?”
“Uh—yes?”
She nodded as though that decided it. “Come in, then.”
“Would she have slammed the door in our faces if you'd said no?” Grady whispered as they followed her in and through to the small lounge.
Quinn chuckled. He hoped not, but it was best not to risk it.
Quinn looked over all the pictures on the wall. He felt like he'd travelled back in time, like she was living in a whole different era while the rest of the world carried on.