Chapter 29 - Quinn
TWENTY-NINE - Quinn
When I told Olivia how long it’d been since I visited my father in prison, she didn't know that a while was actually a year. It’s been twelve months exactly since I last stepped foot in here, enduring the body checks and watchful eyes of the guards as they make sure I'm not trying to sneak anything in. I feel like a prisoner myself by the time I'm allowed to sit down next to the phone in front of the glass that will divide my father and I. An entire year, and it wasn't an accident. I hate it here. I hate seeing my father here. It’s too much. It’s too stereotypical, and it’s a drag on my emotions that lasts for days.
Even though our last conversation ended fine, I just couldn't bring myself back.
I've spent the entire calendar running from the things that remind me of how alike me and my father are, but there is no place left to run now. Our similarities have finally caught up to me, and now I have to face them. So the glass between us is actually more than just a glass. It’s a mirror.
When they bring him in, I'm surprised by two things.
Number one—he looks just like me. His beard is much longer than mine and his eyes aren't green, but his face is mine with extra weight and a profound amount of both sadness and wisdom.
His locs are mostly gray now, so it feels like I'm looking into the future, seeing what others will see when they witness the older version of me walking around.
At least I can look forward to still being handsome in my later years.
Still grinning, I lift the phone to my ear and anticipate the moment I’ll hear his voice through it. I'm nervous and don't know why. To a guy like me, a father is irreplaceable, and there is always a never-dying desire to make him proud.
“Hey, Son,” he says in a deep voice that seems to rumble the phone in my hand. He smiles at me, and my heart smiles too.
“Hi, Dad,” I reply, and tears quickly threaten to spew. It has been too long, and it hadn't dawned on me until now. I have to clear my throat just to keep going. “You've gotten big since the last time I saw you. You look huge.”
Dad shrugs as he smiles. “Not much else to do in here but lift weights and read books, so that’s all I do—get swole and smart. It’s a simple life.”
I nod, a smile still controlling my face. “I hear you. Well, the size looks good on you. Maybe I need to get my butt in the gym, too.”
“Yeah, maybe. It’s good for the soul. Those endorphins kick in and I forget the world the second I have iron in my hand. It’ll destress you, and you look like you could use a reprieve from some stress, Son. You doing okay?”
Just like a father. He can see the pressure weighing me down without me having to say anything about it.
I nod nonchalantly, hoping to convince him that I'm fine. “Yeah, I’m alright. A lot is going on with work and stuff. It’s all starting to get kind of heavy, but I'm doing fine.”
Dad’s eyebrow raises as he exhales. “I see. It’s been so long since I've seen you, I don't even know what’s going on with you, Q. You still at Obsidian?”
“Yeah,” I answer. “Still going strong. In fact, I've been promoted twice since the last time I was here.
I'm the chief information security officer now—working right under the CEO. As far as my place in the company is concerned, things are going as good as they possibly can. It’s busy and stressful being at the top, but there's no place I'd rather be.”
Dad’s smile lights up the dimly lit room. “That’s so good to hear, Q. I love that for you, man. You make me proud, and you deserve it. That's awesome.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I say, just as the tears try to return from a swelling of pride.
“Well, if work is going well, I can only assume your love life is blossoming, too. Women love a man who’s good at making money.”
I laugh. “That they do. I'm making quite a bit these days, but my love life is … well, it’s something.”
“Uh-oh,” Dad says, leaning forward and placing his thick forearms on the wooden counter in front of him. His demeanor softens like we’re just a father and son sitting at home on the back patio, watching flames peek out of the firepit. “Tell me all about it. You seeing anyone?”
I nod slowly, but my eyes drop down as I think about Olivia. I don't know if she's dating me or the dark devil. “Yeah, I'm seeing someone. It’s complicated.”
“How so?”
“Well Dad, she's the CEO of Obsidian.”
Dad’s eyes bulge, then a smile takes hold of his entire face. “Goddamn, Q! Now that is how you do it. So you're part of a power couple? My man.”
I laugh even though the reality of it is far less humorous. “It’s something like that. Olivia isn't your every day girl. She's intense. Focused. Ambitious. She's not the kind of girl who wants to settle down.”
“Oh,” Dad replies, his smiling fading. “Well, how do you feel about her?”
I shrug. “I don't know. I feel something, but I don't know how to describe it. It hasn't been long, but she brings out the best in me … and the worst.”
“The worst? What do you mean?”
This is it. I've been waiting a long time to say this out loud, and I've been hoping that my father would be the one to put answers to my questions. Not only that. This will be an admission of the existence of my darkness and my desire to run from it. To run from him.
“I don't know how to describe it,” I start, unable to maintain eye contact with him. “Olivia … has something about her. Her way of life is … different.”
“Okay, we’re short on time, Son, and you're being vague. Don't bother easing into it to soften the blow. Just tell me how it is. How is she different?”
“Well … she's into BDSM,” I admit, but I make sure to say it quietly like I can be arrested for it.
Dad’s eyebrows raise. “Oh. Well damn. That’s not what I expected, but … okay. I can rock with that. Is that the darkness you're talking about?”
“Yeah,” I answer easier now that the truth is out in the open.
“When I say darkness, I don't mean demonic or satanic or anything like what society might call it based on their fear and lack of understanding. It’s just darker than the vanilla, modest way everybody else lives. And truthfully, that side of her calls to the darkness that lives in me.”
Dad’s face suddenly droops downward as he frowns. “The darkness that lives in you? What are you talking about?”
“The darkness,” I repeat as if he heard the word but didn’t understand it.
“Dad, ever since you got locked in here, I've been suppressing these feelings. I have something in me … something dark that tends to lash out when things get rough. I have this strong desire to hurt people when they piss me off, and it extends to this lifestyle that Olivia introduced me to. This BDSM shit is deep, and she submits to me. Like, she lets me do whatever I want, and it brings out that darkness. I find myself wanting to hurt her, too. When the temperature gets dialed up between the two of us, I want to inflict pain on her—within the limits of our dynamic, of course. Whatever this darkness is, I know it’s bad for me, but I sort of like it, too. I like the results it gets even if it has to bend or break the rules to get them. Honestly, it reminds me of you.”
By the time I'm finished talking, there is no smile on my father's face. He peers through the glass, pinning me to my seat. He adjusts his position and lets out a long exhale that fogs the glass between us before he speaks.
“Darkness that reminds you of me,” he says. “Yeah, Quinn … what the hell are you talking about, man?”
My brows knit together. “Did you not hear everything I just said?”
“I heard you just fine, Son, but I have no idea why you would say something like that. Darkness? You think I'm dark?”
“Well … no, that’s not what I mean. But, you were a criminal and it didn't seem to bother you because you loved the results. It’s the reason you ended up here, and I've been trying to avoid any and all feelings that could put me in the same situation.”
Dad sighs again. “Oh wow. Quinn, you don't have a darkness inside of you.”
“Yes, I do. It’s my dark devil, and I have to fight it all the time.”
“A dark devil? Son, I love you, but are you fucking kidding me?”
I’m startled by the shift in his tone. “What?”
“There is no more a dark devil inside of you than there is inside of me,” Dad says.
“Your problem isn't that you have darkness in you.
Your problem is that you can't accept yourself.
There is no darkness, Quinn. There is only you.
Don't put the blame on something else, and certainly don't put it on me just because I got locked up.”
“But the things I want to do are dark,” I try to argue. “Sadism is a dark thing. I just knocked a guy out at the bar last night and threatened another guy with a broken glass bottle. That’s dark, and it’s exactly the kind of thing I watched you do growing up.”
“I did that kind of shit because I wanted to, and you're doing it because you saw me do it, but also because you want to do it.
Don't blame me for your desires, because it certainly won't convince a judge if you go too far and get arrested like I did.
You have to know your limits. I ignored mine and it brought me nothing but trouble that ended with me in here forever.
I owed those gangsters over a million dollars, one of them threatened to hurt you if I didn't pay, and I stabbed him in the fucking neck.
I have no one to blame—no dark devil to point the finger at.
I only have myself. Quincy King. It was me.
But you don't have to make those mistakes.
“You're so much smarter than I was, but you're also just like me, and that’s okay.
I raised you by myself, so of course you're like me, but you’ll never be the best version of yourself until you accept who you are.
From what I'm hearing, this girl brings out the best in you. Period. If you’ve found a little masochistic woman who wants you to inflict pain on her, then you better thank your lucky stars and live in your truth with her.
Don't fuck it up by talking about darkness and devils.
You're the darkness, Quinn. You're the devil. Just fucking own it.”
My defensiveness tries to kick in, but it has no legs to stand on, so my mouth opens with no words coming out.
I never realized that my father's arrest did a number on me, making me believe that being like him was wrong because he ended up in prison.
But he's right. All this time, I've been running from myself, which is why I've always felt like I couldn't escape. I've been lying to myself for years.
A guard yells something on the other side of the glass, and Dad nods to him before looking at me again.
“Listen to me, Son,” he says. “I know all the things you thought were cool about me were tainted by how things ended up, but I know what I'm talking about.
I wish I was out there with you, to help you figure all of this out.
But I promise you, you will never feel truly happy if you don't accept who you are. Trying to escape it is simply you running in place. You have to be open and honest with yourself, man. Sure, it might make you scarier to some people. Others might not understand or even try to, and that’s fine.
All that matters is that you love and accept yourself.
Your interests don't have to be everyone else’s interests.
Your attitude doesn't have to make everyone around you happier. It’s not your job to make everyone feel comfortable.
If you being yourself makes people feel intimidated, that's on them.
Like what you like, and find people who get it.
Fuck everybody else. Your name is Quinn King.
You're my son. I live in you. The only difference between us is that you're the smarter version of me, and you won't end up here. But from now on, you will be true to yourself. You hear me?”
With the tears finally breaking free and rolling down my face, I nod. “I hear you.”
Dad stands up but keeps the phone to his ear. “Good. There is no dark devil, Quinn. There is only you. Now let me hear you say it.”
I swallow hard. “There is no dark devil. There's only me.”
Dad nods his approval. “Good. Now go use that so-called darkness to be the best version of yourself. I love you, Son.”
Tears stream down my face. “I love you too, Dad.”
He smiles at me as he hangs up the phone, then touches the glass before turning on his heel and walking away.
I watch him go, trying my best to fight back an onslaught of emotions that will surely break free once I'm out of this godforsaken building, but for now I hold it together and think about everything he just said.
I know he's right, and I vow to be true to myself from this moment on.
“There is no dark devil,” I whisper to myself as I hang up the phone and rise to my feet. “There is only me.”