Chapter 9
Quinn
T he first thing I notice when I wake up is the scent of vanilla and something uniquely Cecily lingering on my pillowcase. The second thing is the warm weight of her body pressed against mine, her head tucked into the curve of my shoulder like she belongs there. Like she's always belonged there.
I don't move. Hell, I barely breathe. I'm too afraid that if I do, she'll wake up and remember all the reasons we shouldn't be doing this.
But right now, in this moment, with the early morning light filtering through her bedroom curtains and her soft breathing tickling my chest, everything feels right in a way it hasn't in years.
Last night... fuck, last night was everything I'd been dreaming about since I came back to Bellehaven.
Every touch, every whispered word, every moment when she finally let her walls come down and just let me love her the way I've been aching to.
The way I should have been loving her all along, if we'd communicated better.
Cecily shifts slightly in her sleep, her arm tightening around my waist, and I can't help the smile that tugs at the corners of my lips. Even unconscious, she's holding on to me like she's afraid I might disappear. I get it. I've been afraid of the same damn thing.
"You're thinking too loud," she mumbles against my chest, her voice thick with sleep, the breath hot on my skin.
"Sorry," I murmur, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Didn't mean to wake you."
She tilts her head up to look at me, her hair a messy tangle around her face, and Christ, she's beautiful. Even with sleep marks on her cheek, she's the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen.
"What time is it?" she asks, though she doesn't make any move to actually check the clock on her nightstand.
"Early enough," I say, running my fingers through her hair. "I don't have to be at the school for another hour."
She settles back against me. "Good. I'm not ready to let you go yet."
Those words hit me right in the chest, and I have to swallow past the sudden tightness in my throat. "You don't have to let me go, Cec. Not if you don't want to."
She's quiet for a moment, and I can practically hear the wheels turning in her head. The doubt creeping back in, the fear that this is too good to be true, too good to last. I know because I'm thinking the same damn things.
"Quinn," she starts, and I can hear the hesitation in her voice.
"No," I say firmly, tightening my arms around her.
"Whatever you're about to say, whatever reason you're about to give me for why this was a mistake or why it can't happen again, I don't want to hear it.
Not right now. Can we just... enjoy this?
Just us, just this, without all the rest of the bullshit crowding in? "
She's quiet again, but then she nods. "Okay. Just this morning."
We lie there in comfortable silence for a while, my fingers tracing lazy patterns on her bare shoulder while she draws circles on my chest with her fingertip. It's peaceful in a way I haven't experienced in years, like all the noise in my head has finally quieted down.
"I forgot," she says softly.
"Forgot what?"
"How safe I feel with you." Her voice is barely above a whisper, like she's admitting something she doesn't want to say out loud. "You've always made me feel safe."
I close my eyes, remembering those last few months before we got married. "I should have stayed."
"You made a decision, the one you thought was right."
"I did what was easy," I correct. "Staying would have been right. Fighting for you would have been right."
She lifts her head to look at me again, and there's something in her eyes I can't quite read. "You're fighting for me now."
"Damn right I am." I cup her face in my hands, my thumbs brushing over her cheekbones. "I'm not going anywhere this time, Cecily. Not unless you tell me to go."
She leans into my touch, her eyes fluttering closed. "I'm scared, Quinn."
"Of what?"
"Of believing you. Of letting myself have this and then losing it again." Her eyes open, and they're bright with unshed tears. "I don't think I could survive it a second time."
"You won't have to," I promise. "I swear to you, Cec, you won't have to."
She searches my face, like she's looking for any sign that I might be lying. Then she leans down and kisses me, soft and sweet and full of all the things we're both too afraid to say out loud.
When she pulls back, she rests her forehead against mine. "I have to go figure out what I'm going to do for work. Maybe I'll go to the hospital, the next county over."
"Good," I say, and I mean it. As much as I want to keep her in this bed all day, I know she needs to get back out there. She needs to remember who she is beyond all this fear and hiding. "You belong helping people. Don't let those bastards take that away from you."
She smiles, and it's the first real smile I've seen from her since I've been back. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For pushing me. For not letting me give up." She kisses me again, quick and soft. "For the tires."
I grin. "You're welcome. Though next time, maybe try not to hang up on me."
"Next time, maybe try not to be such a pushy asshole."
"Deal."
We reluctantly untangle ourselves from each other, and I watch as she pads naked to the bathroom, completely unselfconscious in a way that makes my chest tight with emotion. This is how it should be. This is how it always should have been.
Twenty minutes later, I'm dressed in my uniform and kissing her goodbye at the front door like it's the most natural thing in the world. Like we've been doing this for years.
"Be careful today," she says, her hands around my waist.
"Always am," I lie, because being careful has never been one of my strong suits. "You too."
She nods and steps back, wrapping her robe tighter around herself. I force myself to walk to my truck without looking back, even though every instinct I have is screaming at me to stay.
The drive to Bellehaven High takes me past Murphy's Gas Station, and I pull in to grab a coffee and maybe something that passes for breakfast. The place is pretty empty this early in the morning, just me and a couple of delivery drivers getting their day started.
I'm reaching for an energy bar when I hear a voice behind me that makes my blood run cold.
"Well, well. If it isn't Officer Carter."
I turn around to see Jenna Stevens standing by the drink coolers, a smirk on her face that I immediately want to wipe off.
Jenna's been trouble since she was a teenager, the kind of girl who thrives on drama and other people's misery.
The fact that she's shacked up with Evan Salyers, one of the biggest drug dealers in the county, tells me everything I need to know about how her life's turned out.
"Jenna," I say neutrally, turning back to grab my coffee.
"Heard Cecily's having some car trouble lately," she says, and there's something in her tone that pisses me off.
I set my coffee down and face her fully. "What did you say?"
Her smirk widens. "Just wondering how she liked getting some new tires. Must have been expensive, having to replace them so suddenly and all."
The smartass tone hits me like a punch to the gut, and I have to clench my fists to keep from reaching for my cuffs. "You know something about that?"
"I don't know nothing about nothing," she says with fake nonchalance. "Just seems like a shame, you know? Good tires getting ruined like that. Almost like someone wanted to send a message."
I take a step closer to her. I'm bigger and wearing a uniform that proclaims I'm a law enforcement officer.
If she doesn't see authority in that, I'm not sure what will make her realize I'm not the person to fuck with.
"Let me be real clear with you, Jenna. I'm a cop, and you're talking about destruction of property. You might want to watch your mouth."
She doesn't back down, which tells me she's either braver or stupider than I gave her credit for. "And you might want to tell your girlfriend to watch her back."
The threat is clear as day, and it takes every ounce of self-control I have not to arrest her on the spot. But Troy's words echo in my head—we need proof, not just suspicions and hearsay.
"That sounds an awful lot like a threat," I say, my voice deadly calm.
"Does it?" She shrugs, obviously not giving a fuck. "I'm just saying, accidents happen. Especially to people who stick their noses where they don't belong."
"Evan's arrest got you upset?" I ask, a smirk crossing my face. "Funny thing about that—trafficking fentanyl and meth carries some serious time. Your boyfriend's looking at fifteen to twenty, easy."
Her mask slips for just a second, and I see the fury underneath. "That bitch had no right?—"
"That nurse," I correct, emphasizing the word, "was doing her job. Protecting patients from pill-seeking addicts who are trying to score drugs to sell on the street. You got a problem with that?"
The cashier, a kid who can't be more than nineteen, is watching our exchange with wide eyes, his head moving back and forth like he's watching a tennis match. "Uh, y'all need to pay for anything?" he asks nervously.
"Yeah," I say, not taking my eyes off Jenna. I pull out a five and toss it on the counter. "Keep the change."
Jenna reaches around and grabs a pack of cigarettes from behind the counter. She slams them down. "Ring these up," she snaps at the cashier.
The kid fumbles with the register, clearly wanting to be anywhere but in the middle of whatever this is. "That'll be, uh, seven forty-nine."
She throws a ten at him and doesn't wait for change. As she heads for the door, she pauses next to me.
"Give Cecily my regards," she says sweetly. "Tell her I hope she's more careful in the future."
And then she's gone, leaving me standing there with rage coursing through my veins and the absolute certainty that this isn't over. Not by a long shot.
I grab my coffee and energy bar and head for the door, my mind already racing. I need to call Troy, need to document this conversation, need to make sure Cecily knows that the Salyers family and their associates are escalating this shit.
But more than that, I need to figure out how to keep the woman I never stopped loving safe without going to jail for murder and turning in my badge. Because right now, that's feeling like a very real possibility.