Chapter 23 Quinn
July, This Year
“Do you know how much it hurts my pride for you to know that, Quinn?” Taran seethed, lowering her voice as a couple came out of the main hall of the community center. “For you to know that you broke me? And that’s twice now you’ve forced me to say it.”
A now-familiar burn flared under my sternum. “The problem, Taran, is that you believe you were the only one left devastated. I’m trying to tell you that you weren’t.” My voice rose on the end, drawing the couple’s curious gaze. “Please, let’s go somewhere and talk.”
I waited, heart in my fucking throat, for what felt like forever.
Finally, she offered, “If I let you tell your side of the story, do you promise to drop it? To leave things well enough alone between us?”
My whole body railed at the idea of giving up. But if it was what she truly wanted, then I had to abide by her wishes. “I promise.”
“Fine.” She gestured to the exit. “We can talk at my place.”
Nerves rattled through me, making me feel like the fourteen-year-old who needed weeks to gather the courage to ask out his best friend.
It took me a moment to realize Taran was already opening the front door.
Hurrying to her side, I took the door from her, holding it so she could step out.
I quickly fell in beside her as we took the stone stairs down to the community hall’s car park.
The building was situated on a parcel of land by itself two streets elevated behind Main Street and only a few minutes’ walk from Taran’s childhood home.
There was a vehicle parked in every space because folks had come from all over for the ceilidh. A group of teenagers huddled together near the shadowed end of the building, laughing and drinking.
Taran hadn’t even seemed to notice them.
It was a still, humid evening, and yet she crossed her arms over her chest, huddling into herself as if cold.
Her defensive demeanor made me feel like shit.
It made me resent the fact that I couldn’t just put my arm around her and cuddle her close—promise her that everything would be all right.
I opened my mouth to speak, to alleviate the thick tension between us, but the sudden sound of squealing tires and a roaring engine cut me off. I glanced over my shoulder, wincing at the flare of headlights.
My body registered the threat before my brain did. I dove at Taran, wrapping my arms tight around her waist as I swung her off her feet, hauling us backward out of the path of the vehicle. As it screeched by, I landed on my back with Taran on top of me.
The breath was knocked out of me as the car skidded from the car park and disappeared around the corner.
Pain flared up my back and neck as I released my hold on Taran with a groan.
“Oh my God, oh my God.” Taran scrambled off, turning to cover me. “Quinn, are you all right?”
“Are you okay?” The teenagers appeared around us. One girl waved her phone. “I’ll call the police!”
“Quinn.” Taran pushed her face into mine, eyes big with worry. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” I grunted, pushing up into a sitting position. “A bit bruised, but fine.”
“Are you sure?” She tentatively rested her hand on my shoulder. “You went down hard on concrete. Did you hit your head?”
Cognizance returned as the pain in my back dulled to a low throb. “No. Who the fuck was that?” I pushed to standing.
“Maybe you shouldn’t stand up.” Taran rose. “You should sit until the ambulance arrives.”
“Mo luaidh, someone just tried to run us over.” I turned to the teenagers. “Did you see the make and model of the car? A license plate? Did you see anyone get into a car before we came out here?”
The teenagers glanced around at one another in a panic, their voices clashing as they proclaimed it was too dark, that they hadn’t seen anyone, that the headlights just suddenly came on when me and Taran appeared.
Fuck.
Fear shot through me as I turned to Taran. I didn’t want to scare her, but almost being mowed down just a few days after her house was broken into seemed a bit too much of a coincidence.
An hour later the incident had brought an abrupt end to the ceilidh. Everyone was asked to stay inside while our small police force investigated and while Taran and I were checked over by the paramedics. Of course, Ramsay did not obey that directive and had gone into hunt mode.
When it was relayed to him that the community center didn’t have any security cameras, I thought my friend might lose his mind.
“What do you mean you don’t have security cameras?” He directed his outrage at Aodhan.
Aodhan, unruffled as always, shrugged. “We live on an island with the lowest crime rates in Scotland. Why waste money on security cameras?”
Ramsay looked ready to explode at that. “Oh, I don’t know, so that if two people are almost flattened by an assailant, we can ID the fucking vehicle?”
PC William cleared his throat to intervene. “This is getting us nowhere. Ramsay, I’ll ask you again to stay out of police business.”
At that, my friend had grunted and approached me and Taran. Forde had checked us over, and we were both okay. My back was a bit sore, and he’d warned me to keep an eye on that, but otherwise we were free to go once the police were done with us.
Ramsay lowered his voice. “I’ll look into it.”
In other words, he’d use his friends in high places to see if he could find any footage from town business security cameras that might have recorded images or video of the culprit.
Unfortunately, I’d been too busy making sure Taran was out of the car’s path to have noted anything about it. Taran thought the car was red, but that’s all she’d seen.
“A word.” I jerked my head to the side, and Ramsay followed me until we had space between us and the small crowd still gathered in the car park.
The doors to the community center opened and the guests flooded out.
My sister, London, and Tierney rushed toward Taran. “Is it possible this is about Taran?”
Ramsay’s brow furrowed. “Well, it’s got to be about one of you.”
“Her house was broken into two days ago. Now this.”
He nodded slowly. “It’s something to consider.”
“What can you do to find out about the car?”
Ramsay was relaying his plan to me when Cammie’s cursing screech made my heart falter. Our heads whipped toward my sister as PC William approached her. She waved her phone angrily in his face.
Ramsay and I were by her side in seconds. “What is it?”
Cammie shoved the phone at me, her arm trembling. “My neighbor Aileen just texted this to me.”
On her screen was a photo of my sister’s familiar secondhand sage-green Range Rover Defender. Spray-painted across the side were the words YOU’RE NEXT.
Forde yanked the phone out of her hand, his expression hardening as he stared at the screen.
What the fuck was going on?
My gaze flew past my sister to Taran and then back to Cammie.
Maybe … maybe this wasn’t about Taran or Cammie.
Aware of PC William’s presence as he insisted on taking the phone from Forde, of Tierney asking worried questions, Forde demanding Cammie tell him if she’d been threatened before, of London holding Taran close in comfort … I felt sick to my stomach.
“Quinn?” Ramsay seemed to sense my inner panic.
I tugged my phone out of my pocket and quickly typed up a sentence on my notes, then handed it to Ramsay.
His eyes glanced over the words.
I think I know who is behind all of this: Eoghan McCall.
My friend handed my phone back to me. “Tomorrow. We’ll talk.”
I nodded, the guilt and dread all-consuming.
The smart thing would be to tell the police, but I didn’t want to point fingers at a grieving man if I was wrong.
Once PC William had taken all the statements he could, he left with Cammie and Forde to go take photos of her Defender and collect statements from her neighbors.
I hugged my sister close and only let her go when Forde promised he’d make sure she was safe.
Trusting my friend to do just that, I reluctantly bid her good night.
Laird hovered over his wee sister until Taran insisted he take Finella and relieve my mum and Greg from babysitting duties.
I knew I was in for a phone call from Mum within five seconds of Laird and Finella returning home.
Murray left with them since his mother was looking after Kelly, and a local would more than likely have already texted her to let her know about tonight’s events. He didn’t want her to worry.
Ramsay and Tierney departed too, but Taran and London hung back. London kept her distance as Taran approached me. Most of the cars had left the car park, but Aodhan was still talking to another community council member outside the building.
“How are you doing?” I asked Taran.
It was difficult to read her expression in the dim light flooding from the building’s entrance. “A wee bit shaken. Worried about your back.”
“It’s fine. Just bruised.”
Taran shifted restlessly on her feet. “You saved me tonight.”
Guilt suffused me because I’d most likely saved her from a monster of my own making. “Taran—”
“Tomorrow. I’ll meet you at our cove. You can tell me your side of the story and I promise to listen.”
I knew her change of heart was because of my actions here. As much as I wanted to be the hero in her eyes, she had to know that I might be the reason she’d gotten hurt tonight. “Taran, I—”
“I can’t promise anything, Quinn. But your first instinct was to protect me and …
I guess maybe I need to know. I just need to know if you …
” She looked away, the muscle in her jaw ticking.
“I’ve spent the last nineteen years believing you fell out of love with me and moved on so easily with Kiera. ”
Anguish and fury at her words mingled, but I clamped my lips shut.
Taran seemed to have to force herself to look me in the eye. “It probably won’t change anything … but I need to know what you were thinking when you chose Kiera.”
“Taran—”
“Tomorrow. Eight o’clock.” She turned, her ponytail whipping around with the movement as she strode quickly back to London. The American threaded her arm through Taran’s and together they strolled off into the night.
“I’ve spent the last nineteen years believing you fell out of love with me and moved on so easily with Kiera.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. If only she knew. If only she fucking knew.