17. Ren
17
REN
“ W ake up,” a deep familiar voice drags me from my restless sleep.
My eyes fly open just in time for me to see a bundle of clothes thrown at my face. I manage to lift my arm just in time, catching the pile of fabric. Still disoriented by sleep, I look around my cell to find Quinton standing inside, only two feet away from my cot.
“Get up and get dressed. You are going to the gym with me,” he orders, his tone not leaving any room for a discussion.
I sit up and stare at the pile of clothes in my hand, realizing I’m holding a pair of workout shorts and a thin T-shirt.
“Why are you sleeping in the middle of the day, anyway? Nothing better to do than nap? Oh, wait, you don’t,” he says sarcastically, glancing around the bare cell with a grin. “Hurry up, I don’t have all day.”
“Do you really think that’s a good idea? Does your father know you are letting me out of here?”
“Don’t you worry about him. Besides, you really think you can take me?”
“I know I can take you,” I challenge.
“Give it a try and find out, asshole.”
A grin tugs on my lips. Fuck, I missed this prick. I know he will never truly forgive me, but Q has been my best friend for most of my life. It’s hard not to miss him. Which makes turning him down even harder.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave my cell.”
Quinton rolls his dark eyes at me. “Scarlet and Aspen aren’t here. They went shopping, and my dad ordered extra security to follow us around. So get off your lazy ass and put the fucking workout clothes on, or I’ll drag you to the gym like this.” He points at my jeans, long sleeve shirt, and bare feet.
Only when I look down do I realize he has also brought some sneakers for me.
“Fine,” I agree, before quickly getting changed into the stuff he brought.
“Finally.” Quinton sighs dramatically as if he has been waiting for hours. “Come on.” He opens the ajar door wide and waves me through. “After you.”
My first step out of the cell is hesitant and has my stomach in knots. How many days has it been? It feels like weeks. I don’t love being locked up in a single room without a window, but I don’t hate it as much as I should either.
Like I explained to Dr. Stone, this has been the most relaxed I’ve been in a very long time. Being out of the cell has that feeling of safety disappearing while it’s replaced with an uneasy feeling in my gut. Having Q walking behind me only adds to my discomfort.
When I hear a second pair of footsteps behind me, my instincts kick in, and I spin around to see where the danger is coming from. A few feet behind Q, one of the guards reaches for his gun, while I have nothing but my fists to protect me.
“Calm down, everyone.” Quinton quickly defuses the situation, but I can’t shake the feeling of danger.
It’s odd because I normally don’t fear anything. Quite the opposite. I’m always the first one to run into danger. But this is different because this time the danger is me. I can’t trust myself and that means that for the first time in a long time, I’m scared.
“I think it’s better I stay in the cell until I have better control of… you know… myself.”
I’m not sure if it’s my words or whatever Q reads in my expression, but his eyes go wide, like he’s in shock before something like pity washes over his face.
“I’m not sure if you’re faking it or if you’re really that fucked up in the head right now.”
“I’m really that fucked up,” I answer without missing a beat. “I don’t trust myself anymore. What if I try to hurt someone again?” It’s probably a mistake to confide in Quinton like this, but I need him to understand that I can’t control part of me, and that fucking scares me.
“There’s no one here you can hurt. It’s just me and you and a bunch of guards. If it makes you feel better, I won’t let you get close to heavy weights at the gym. We’ll get on the ring and spar a little bit, and if you go all crazy on me, I’ll have the guards kick your ass,” he half jokes.
“Aspen and Scarlet are really not here?”
“No. they went shopping for the baby,” Q says before cursing under his breath like he didn’t mean to tell me about the baby.
“Congrats, by the way. Scarlet told me about Aspen being pregnant. I hope that was okay. Don’t be mad at her for telling me.”
“It’s fine, I guess. Thanks, now can we go to the gym?”
“All right,” I agree, shoving my hands awkwardly into the shorts pockets.
Spinning around, I continue walking down the hall, surprised when Quinton falls in step next to me instead of behind.
Together, we walk up the stairs and turn toward the in-house gym. Q wasn’t joking when he said Xander upped the security for me because every time we turn into a new hallway, I see a guard standing next to the door, every single one has their eyes on me. If it wasn’t for Quinton walking next to me, I would definitely be more nervous with all the attention on me. When we finally get to the gym, two guards follow us inside and position themselves in the corners of the room while two more block the entrance to the gym.
I don’t think an actual prison has this much security .
Still feeling a little on edge, I take in the smell of sweat and iron and let it ground me. Quinton grabs two sets of tape and boxing gloves while getting into the small boxing ring on the far-right side of the large gym.
Quinton throws the tape and gloves over to me. We both tape up our hands and put on the boxing gloves; I then climb into the ring, and we get into a fighting position.
I can’t count the times Q and I have sparred with each other, but I’ve never actually been worried about it before. This time is different because I’m pretty sure he actually wants to hurt me, and I’m still banged up from my short stay with Rebecca.
Throwing my hands up to protect my face, I start moving around the ring, letting Quintonthrow the first jab. He comes at me with a right hook, but I manage to dodge it. However, his left follow-up jab hits me on the side of my head.
I shake it off and throw my hands up in a protective pose. “You taking it easy on me? I barely felt that,” I taunt, and I don’t know what in the world is wrong with me. I should be glad he’s taking it easy, yet my stupid ego is getting the better of me.
“Don’t want Scarlet to be mad at me again.”
“Why again?” I question between jabs. “What did you do now?”
“Oh, you know, the usual, being Dad’s favorite and getting special treatment, has always driven a wedge between us.”
“I always thought Scar was your dad’s favorite.”
“Not according to Scarlet. She is pissed that I have more freedom than her.”
“Well, she is younger, and your parents have sheltered her more than you. She also did not attend Corium like she was supposed to.”
“Exactly,” Quinton agrees while dodging one of my hits. “She was so adamant about going to MIT, but now she wants to be part of this world that she wanted nothing to do with a year ago. Doesn’t she get our father gives me more freedom because I earned it. I’ve been training for this my whole life while she was reading romance novels and going to frat parties.”
“Have you told her that?”
When Quinton doesn’t respond right away, I know the answer is no. This is so typical for Q. He always expects other people to read his mind.
“Talk to her. Explain to her like you did me, and she’ll understand,” I offer. “Is that why you brought me here? To get advice on how to mend things with your sister?”
Both of us are breathing heavy now, sweat dripping down our faces.
“I feel like you know her best… but, no, that’s not the reason.” Quinton throws a combination of hooks and jabs, one hitting me right in my stomach. “I guess I wanted to see for myself.”
“See what for yourself?” I ask when he doesn’t elaborate.
“See if you are still the guy I knew or if he is completely gone.”
I stop moving. Relaxing my arms, I take in a deep breath.
“I’m here now, but I can’t promise that I’ll always be myself. I wish I could. I wish I could promise you I’m still that guy and that you can trust me no matter what. But I can’t. I can’t ask you to trust me when I can’t even trust myself. I feel like I belong in the cell, locked away from everybody.” This is hard to admit, but it’s the truth. I take a step toward Quinton, keeping my voice low enough so only he can hear. “I’m scared, Q. I’m scared out of my fucking mind. What if I try to hurt you again, or Aspen or Scarlet? I can’t control River, and that scares the shit out of me.”
For a moment, Quinton stares at me like I just grew a second head. He can’t believe I just admitted to being scared. Hell, part of me doesn’t comprehend it either.
Once he’s composed himself again, he drops his fists and sighs deeply. “If you would’ve just hurt me, I would’ve already forgiven you. But you… River,” he corrects himself, “went after Aspen, and I don’t know if I can let that go. For what it’s worth, I wish I could help you. And I wish I would’ve noticed something was wrong sooner.”
“It’s not your fault,” I tell him honestly. I don’t blame him or anyone living under this roof.
“I guess it’s not really your fault either, but that doesn’t change how we feel.” I couldn’t say it better myself.
No matter what happened or who is at fault, all that matters is how people feel about it now and unfortunately for me, I’m not to be trusted.