Chapter 9 #2
He starts tossing tubes of something pink, which I can only assume are shots.
Dylan catches one. “Yesss.”
I check my watch. An hour and a half left.
I should just leave now. Fuck it.
“Want one, boss?” I hear someone say and raise my eyes to see Farrow holding a tube out for me.
Boss…
The gleam in his eyes meets the ire in mine, and I glance around, no one really noticing. Or registering any meaning to his choice in words.
When I don’t reply, he pulls the shot back with a small smile, everyone uncapping theirs and raising a toast.
“To no school and no books,” Kade announces.
“Oh, you love books,” Hunter fires back.
“Fuck off,” his twin gripes. “You know I can barely read.”
Everyone laughs, but I watch Quinn toss back her shot and pull another one out of Kade’s backpack. She’s the only one old enough to drink, other than me, but I watch her the closest. She’s going to be drunk in fifteen minutes.
“To Fallstown and the lake,” Dylan chimes in.
Followed by Farrow. “And a summer of fun!”
“Ow, ow, ow!” Kade and Hawke howl, everyone raising their drinks high and then swallowing them down.
And as Hawke and his girlfriend toss theirs back, extending their necks, I see them. The tattoos, just like Farrow’s.
My chest caves, the ink still on my back that Quinn noticed all those years ago suddenly burning.
They’re Green Street too? What the fuck is going on?
Quinn tosses the second empty tube back in Kade’s backpack and leaves, hopping over a low wall. I should talk to Hawke.
I debate for a moment, but then follow her over the wall and up another one, walking down a small slide. She hits the grass, finds her flip flops, and heads across the lawn, back toward the patio.
I dig in my heels, powering after her and tossing Noah his shirt as we pass. I see him look at me, but I don’t stop.
How much has Weston infiltrated Shelburne Falls? Hawke wouldn’t be doing anything illegal, would he? Jax raised him better, and these kids have choices.
Fuck.
Everyone is eating, drinking, and laughing, segregated into small groups around the pool as music spills out of the speakers. I make my way straight for Quinn, but then Jared is there, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and tugging her in close.
I halt.
I should apologize. I want to leave her with a good memory of me, at least.
I can’t see Jared’s face, but he talks to her with a folded piece of her pizza in his hand. She nods, and they seem happy.
Just leave. She probably wants to stop looking at my fucking face anyway.
Gritting my teeth, I turn.
But Madoc is there, beaming at me. “Just in time.” He puts an arm around my shoulder and turns me back to face the crowd. “May I have your attention, please!”
Ah, shit.
“I know most of you made sure to be here,” he announces, holding a drink in his hand, “because I always have an open bar, but there is a deeper reason.”
“Madoc…” I beg him to stop.
The music cuts off, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Quinn and Jared turn toward us.
“When I was sixteen,” Madoc tells everyone, releasing me and addressing his guests. “I met this kid who supposedly needed a strong, level-headed, positive, and well-behaved male influence.”
Chuckles and snorts go off around the pool.
“But he got me, instead,” he teases, throwing me a look.
“I tried to be a big brother to him, set an example, give him advice, and show him the ropes, but the more time I spent with him, the more influence he had on me, instead.” His tone softens, thoughtful.
“I started watching cartoons again, and remembered how good cereal tasted, and I started rooting for the Cubs.”
“Go White Sox!” someone shouts.
Others clap and cheer.
But I can’t unclench my jaw, everyone’s eyes like lava on my skin.
I was so nervous the first time I met Madoc, but I shouldn’t have been. He was a pro. It took me all of four minutes to get attached to him.
“He was supposed to be the one who needed me,” Madoc says, his voice gravelly. “But the truth is, I was heartbroken when I met him. I’d lost someone very important in my life.”
I tilt my eyes up, finding his wife on the other side of the pool. She smiles small through her chin trembling and the tears in her eyes.
Years later, I found out that while I was losing my father, Madoc was a teenager, losing the girl he loved. He was suffering, too, the day we met, not that he let on.
“And I was acting like an asshole because of it,” he explains to his guests.
“This eight-year-old kid reminded me of who I used to be when I was happy, and I didn’t want to be numb anymore.
I wanted him to be happy, instead.” Madoc looks around the crowd, everyone quiet and listening.
“My dad once told me that if you’re a good father, your hopes and dreams transfer to your kids when they’re born. They come first.”
Madoc’s father is Quinn’s too, and he would know. He wasn’t an attentive father to his son. But he learned.
“So I cheered for the fuckin’ Cubs,” Madoc goes on, smiles breaking out around the pool.
“And subscribed to MAD magazine. And built airplane models and ate hot dogs three times a week, because they were his favorite, and I was grateful for every second of it…” He locks eyes with me.
“Because I think I needed all those things more than you did.”
My eyes burn, and I know he can see it. I blink, dropping my gaze, and about to fucking choke. They don’t know me. Not really. He wouldn’t say all this if he knew.
“I came back to life when I met you,” he whispers only for me to hear.
I shake my head. Please stop.
“I’m not your father,” he states, “but I think of you as my son.”
My chest shakes, and I almost can’t hold it in. They’re not my family, I tell myself. They’re not…
As he finishes, I hear the smile in his voice. “And I hope it’s not too long before you come home again.”
He pulls me into a hug, and I can’t help but wrap him in my arms and hold tight. One last time.
A little clapping goes off around the pool, and Madoc finally pulls back, everyone looking to me now.
I have to say something. I know this is where I belong, and I can’t tell myself I don’t have a home here because this family’s track record disproves that.
Jared’s mom took in Jax when he was a teenager.
Jax and his wife, in turn, took in their son’s girlfriend and her siblings. This family makes room for everyone.
But I can’t be here. If I don’t leave, Madoc could be implicated in things I did. I have to go.
I clear my throat. “I…” I laugh. “I actually asked for the hot dogs because I thought you liked them,” I announce. “I mean, you’d eat them three times a week, so…”
Everyone breaks into laughter, Madoc shaking his head at me.
There should be more to say to the man who gave me so much. To his wife, who was a big sister and a second mother, a mentor, and a friend.
To the people who gave me a community and a family that would show up for me at a moment’s notice. A moment’s notice.
I meet Quinn’s eyes. “I’ll miss you all,” I tell them.
Quinn’s brow pinches together, and I see the tears she’s trying to hold back, feeling a sob in my throat. But then she drops her eyes, staring at her drink, and I wait, but she doesn’t look at me again.
I don’t have anything else to say.
The patio is silent, and I’m a piece of shit, but that’s it. It’s over.
Madoc’s smile falls a little, but he recovers quickly, coming in for one more embrace.
I ignore the eyes of everyone waiting for more. They don’t understand, because they can’t. It is what it is.
Except Farrow Kelly. I catch him as he stands there like a stone, staring at me and knowing he’s probably the only one here who knows why it’s best that I leave.
Others approach me—Fallon, Juliet, Tate, Jax, and Jared—some of them hugging me one last time, and others shaking my hand. I thank them for coming.
When I finally lift my head, Quinn is gone.
My heart skips a beat, subtly scanning the pool deck and lawn. She wouldn’t leave…
“I’ll be back,” I tell Madoc.
I head around the house again, to the lower-level patio, but she’s not there. Slipping into the basement, I bolt up the steps, enter the kitchen, and head for the front door. As soon as I open it, I see her walking across the driveway, pulling on a white button-up over her bikini top.
“Quinn?” I call.
What the hell? She walks past cars like she’s leaving.
She turns, the shirt still open.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“Home.” She won’t look at me. “It’s just a short walk.”
Turning, she continues for the end of the driveway and the quiet neighborhood road beyond.
I bolt. “Wait.”
She stops, and I see her exhale before she spins around.
I step toward her, pulling the cap out of my back pocket again.
I start to offer it to her, but she laughs. Bitterly. “I don’t want it.”
Looking at me now, her eyes are hooded, her fists clenched.
And I see the moment the curtain in her heart closes. No flexed jaw, no softness in her eyes, no anger, no trembling chin…
Just finality.
“You asked if I was mad at you,” she says.
I did? Oh, yeah. Days ago. In her shop.
“Yes,” she replies. “I am mad at you.”
I swallow through the pain in my throat. I don’t want to hear this.
She steps closer. “After a while, I started to understand that you didn’t just leave all those years ago.” She stares at me point-blank. “You ran away.”
I breathe in and out through my nose slowly, hardening my stance.
“I remembered little things that seemed like nothing at the time,” she tells me. “How you got quieter in the months before. How you would stand in the corners of rooms with your hands in your pockets as if you couldn’t wait to get away from us.”
A headache spreads up the right side of my skull, and I twist my neck, cracking it.
“How there were phone calls that seemed to agitate you, and how you lost weight.”
“Quinn, stop…”
But she continues. “When I got older, I remembered all of this, but I didn’t really worry because it had been years by that point, and I’d heard you were doing well in Dubai. Very successful, they said.”
Yeah. I am successful. I flex my jaw. The opportunities that arose from living in a major city far exceeded any I’d find here, so…
She lowers her voice, tears in her eyes. “Madoc just told you how much he loves you.” Pain is etched across her face. “How much you’re a part of him, and you couldn’t come up with more when you’re never going to see him again?”
I blink, faltering. Madoc doesn’t need to be told. He knows I love him.
But she just shakes her head. “I thought I would love seeing you come home, but even now…”
I almost take a step closer. I want to hold her.
“Even now,” she goes on, “it’s as if we mean nothing to you when you meant so much to us.”
“Quinn…”
But she stops me. “There has been a hole in every room you weren’t in for the past eight years, and I am done,” she growls through her tears. “You’re not family anymore.”
A motorcycle engine fires to life nearby, and pain hits my eyes. She hates me.
I start for her. “Quinn—”
But she holds out her hand. “My compass,” she demands.
I open my mouth, then close it, feeling it rest against my thigh in my pants’ pocket. “I left it in Dubai.”
“Do you remember where you left it in Dubai?” she bites out as if it’s not precious to me and I don’t know where it is at all times. “Maybe discarded in the bottom of a drawer somewhere?”
I square my shoulders. “Somewhere.”
She inhales a big breath and backs away, dropping her hand. “Farrow?” she calls out.
I turn my head, seeing him straddle his bike on the other side of the driveway as she walks over to him.
I don’t know what she says to him, but she hops on the back of his bike and he hands her his helmet. They speed out of the driveway, her arms tight around him, her shirt flapping behind her.
I bow my head.
Fuck, I need alcohol.
I hear my phone ring as if it’s coming from another room. Absently, I pat my pocket, digging it out. I answer, “Hello?”
“Hi!” the realtor, Devney, replies. “Sorry for calling so late, but I wanted to catch you before you got on the plane.”
My plane. What time is it?
“We have an offer.” His cheerful voice hurts my ear. “It’s not a great one, unfortunately, but it’s all cash.”
I stare at the end of the driveway where Quinn just disappeared. “Who?”
“They wish to remain anonymous.”
Right. She doesn’t want more of my invasive opinions, no doubt.
“They’re offering—”
“Just give it to them,” I say.
“Excuse me?”
I hear the door behind me close and turn to see Noah Van der Berg slipping his T-shirt back on and digging out his keys.
“I don’t care what the offer is,” I tell Devney. “Let her have it.”
Noah climbs on his bike, setting his phone in the holder.
“O–Okay,” Devney stammers. “I’ll call them and email the paperwork to your mother.”
I hang up, not even saying goodbye, and run my fingers through my hair over and over again. I’ll feel better once I get home. To my real home and to my office and to my routine.
Far, far away from Quinn and her questions and her curious eyes and her scent. I clench my fists.
Dammit.
“Need a drink?” the kid asks.
I exhale, like air escaping a tire. He read my mind. “Is Jack’s still open out on County Road 5?”
I don’t know what the hell I’m doing or if I mean it, but the words are out before I can stop them.
“That dive right after Camp Blackhawk?” he asks. “For now.”
Fuck it. I’ve got time.
I dig in my pocket for my keys and head to my car. “I’ll drive.”
I don’t look to see if he follows. I can drink alone. I climb in my rental and start the engine before I see him approach and open the passenger’s side door.
He sits next to me, and I put on my seatbelt.
“You’re not gonna fuck me up, are you?” he asks.
I break into a laugh. A genuine one that feels fucking fantastic.
I shift into gear. “I leave for the airport in an hour.”
I don’t have time to get that drunk.