Polk 17.
I’m typically a laid back guy. I deal with animals all day, then come home to the clubhouse and am surrounded by a different type of animal. Humans are beasts, I know this. And I’m a human, ergo, I’m a beast. I just didn’t know that until Quinn.
She’s going to be my ruin…and my salvation.
Quinn Palomeni is the definition of “strong, independent female”. And oddly enough, she hates that overused and incorrect descriptor. I’ve known since I met her that she’s got her shit handled. With three boys in tow, she’s organized chaos. And that’s just one of the many reasons I fell in love with her.
But she’s also as stubborn as Babe the Blue Ox. I feel for Paul Bunyan, he probably sighed a lot, and stared up at the sky wondering why, and said “What the fuck” more times than he could count. I’ve done all three for the last week and a half.
I told her I’m in, I’ve shown her I’m in, but she keeps shutting me out. She isn’t doing it maliciously, I know that for sure, but old habits die hard. She’s so used to taking care of everyone else, she doesn’t know how to let anyone take care of her.
I glance at her beside me and sigh. Again. Quinn smiles softly and rests her head on my shoulder. “He’s gonna be alright, Polk. He’ll be back to saying inappropriate jokes and spending time with the lobbyists before you know it.” I grunt and lean my head back to the wall behind us; the hospital waiting room is an uncomfortable place to hang out. She thinks I’m worried about Ford. And I am, but not nearly as much as I probably should be. I’m more focused on the stubborn woman next to me and figuring out how to get her to let me in.
Ford was supposed to have the surgery to remove the cyst last week, however, his seizure activity delayed the procedure until they stabilized him. So, now, a bunch of us are waiting for any news on Ford, sitting in God-awful chairs, and staring at the walls or playing on our phones…or building up a good mad at the only person they’ve ever loved. Not that she knows that, because I haven’t told her. I’m waiting, on what I have no idea, but I’m waiting.
That’s a lie. I know why. Ford’s entire personality has been altered by this cyst, and he’s become an uber asshole. What if they remove it and he goes back to being a normal more palatable asshole? What if…what if he realizes he loves Quinn, and she chooses him over me?
I know in my soul that she’s mine. And I know she cares a great deal for me. But is it enough to keep her? We’ve talked, a lot, and she has said more than once that her feelings for Ford were muddled and confused at first. In essence, he was an emotional rebound after her divorce and she latched onto their friendship, concocting a potential romantic relationship out of nothing. She’s also mentioned that Ford was the right guy at the right time because he was the wrong guy for her. She wanted to date because it was the next logical step, but she wasn’t ready, and Ford was a safe option because she knew he would never feel that way about her.
Quinn is one of the most self-aware and grounded individuals I’ve ever met. She processes everything quickly, accepting whatever she cannot change and formulating a new plan. She’s adaptable. I don’t want to offend any females out there, but I’ve never met a woman so…rational.
And it’s unnerving. Because that same adaptability is why she isn’t talking to me about whatever the doctor told her and why she went to several appointments since being discharged without telling me. If I didn’t know her so well, I’d think she was developing a taste for blow instead of having multiple blood draws leaving her bruised.
Feeling frustrated and knowing now isn’t the time or place to have it out with her, I shift slightly in my seat, cup her cheeks, delighting in the tiny gasp of surprise right before I claim her lips. She kisses me back, enthusiastically and thoroughly, an active participant leading me to believe she wants me as much as I want her. We break apart, panting, and she smiles as she rests her forehead against mine.
“Hot damn, Mr. Walker. What was that for?”
“Because you’re mine and I can.”
She nods, her smile growing, “I am and you’re welcome to do that anytime.”
“If you two are done giving the rest of the waiting room a PG-13 experience, we’re being paged.” Madison walks past, rolling his eyes at us. Quinn flushes slightly, grips my hand tight and pulls me from the chair. We follow Pres, Betty, Hayes, Stacy, and Keller into another room with a conference table and computer with a large screen.
We take our seats and wait in uncomfortable silence for someone, anyone to update us on our brother. As much I hate the shit he’s spewed, the way he’s treated people, I love him because he’s my club brother. I know some of what’s transpired over the last year or so wasn’t in his control. And I pray that the cyst was removable, and he comes out of this the man he used to be…
“Hello, I’m Dr. Fabian—” The older man in scrubs stops just inside the doorway, his eyes darting to each of us in surprise. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting so many of you. You’re here for Hunter Allen?”
Madison nods, standing with his hand extended. They shake as he reintroduces himself since they met last week and us. “Was the surgery successful?”
“Have a seat.” Dr. Fabian gestures to the table and joins us. “The arachnoid cyst was larger than we anticipated, however, we were able to drain it using fenestration, where the fluid drains directly into the cerebrospinal fluid space and will be flushed out of his body naturally. I do not foresee any issues. To be safe, we will rescan him tomorrow to check progress and again in a couple of weeks. Then a year from now. These cysts rarely recur, but there is always a chance, so we’ll monitor him to be sure. Once discharged, it’s gonna take him up to a month or two to fully recover, even though the incision is small. He might have headaches, trouble concentrating, pain and itching near the site, dizziness, or seizures. Reduced activity, no alcohol or non-prescription medication until we give him the all clear. Do you have any questions?”
“How quickly will he or we notice a difference in his behavior now that the cyst isn’t pressing against his brain?” Quinn asks.
“That depends on the patient. We were in his brain, we irritated it. It’s going to be swollen for a few days, so I’d say give it a week and you might start to notice some changes, hopefully for the better,” he smirks. “Any barbers or hair stylists in your club?”
Stacy raises her hand that’s not holding Hayes’ between them. “I am.”
“I’m afraid you might have your work cutout for you. We had to shave part of his hair to access his scalp. I’m not a barber and don’t pretend to be one.” His practiced joke goes a long way to relax us, which I’m sure is what he intended, and we collectively breathe a sigh of relief. Ford is not out of the woods yet, but he’s much closer, and for that I’m grateful.
Quinn sniffles next to me and I stiffen. I turn my chair to face her, gripping both of her hands in mine. She gives me a watery smile. “Sorry, just happy that he’s on the mend.” Using her shoulders to wipe her tears away, she looks across the table at Betty. “You think the lobbyists are up to playing nurse? He’ll probably need sponge baths.” My shoulders ease as the rigidity in my muscles relaxes. She’s not looking to take care of him, and I know it makes me a bad person, but I don’t think I could handle her nursing him back to health.
Betty and the others laugh, “Oh, I’m sure a few of them are up to the challenge.”
“He’s gonna be a cranky bastard,” Hayes bitches, but he’s grinning.
“Can’t be any worse than he’s been recently.”
“If you don’t have any other questions, I’m gonna head back. Hunter will be in recovery for several hours. Get something to eat, take a nap, go for a ride. The nurse at the desk in the waiting room can take your number and call you when he has a room. He’ll be here for a few days at least.”
“Thank you, Dr. Fabian.” Madison shakes his hand again. The doctor leaves and we sit in silence for a moment, but it’s not uncomfortable like it was when we first entered.
Keller slaps his palms on the table and stands up, “Well, I gotta shit, then who’s up for lunch? I’m in the mood for Mexican.”
Madison calls the clubhouse and lets everyone there know about the surgery. A bunch of them want to meet for lunch, so we agree to meet at our favorite Mexican restaurant. Quinn settles behind me on my bike and we ride behind the others, her body flush to mine, her happy squeals in my ear through the Bluetooth. Lunch is a loud affair. 15 brothers and significant others, including Chastity and Langley.
Quinn dips a chip in queso and holds it up to my mouth. I open wide, accept her offering. Then I bring her hand to my mouth and suck the cheese from her fingertips. We turn our heads to watch Buck and his mom Betty go at it for a moment, then look at each other with goofy grins.
“I love this family,” Quinn says softly. Before I can respond, she says, “And I love that I’m a part of it…with you.”
“Me too, darlin’.”
Towards the end of lunch, Madison gets a call with Ford’s room number. Quinn insists that we go back to the hospital with Madison and Betty. We check in at the nurse’s station on his floor.
“Is one of you Quinny?”
Quinn steps forward, “I’m Quinn.”
“Hunter has been asking for you…loudly and incessantly since he woke up.” My spine stiffens once again, my shoulders rising to my ears.
“Oh. Can I go see him then?”
“Yes, I’ll take you down.” The nurse glances at the rest of us, “Once Hunter has given the ok, I’ll escort you down as well.”
The nurse starts walking, Quinn right behind her, and me bringing up the rear. After only a few steps, the nurse spins around. “Sorry, sir, he’s only requested Quinn at this time.”
“She’s not going back there without me—”
“Bent.” Quinn rests her hands on my chest, leans up and presses her lips softly against mine. “Just give me a few minutes with him. He’s just woken up from major surgery, and he’s probably disoriented. I promise, I’ll be fine, and I’ll come back to you as soon as I know he’s alright.”
“I don’t like it.”
Quinn smirks, “I know you don’t. I’ll be right back.” She kisses me once more. I stand stock still in the hallway, watching her walk away.
Betty bumps into me from the side. “Simmer down, Polk. Quinn’s all grown up, she can take care of herself.” I look down at the first lady of the club and I don’t know what she sees in my eyes or my facial expression, but her features soften instantly. “Honey, you ain’t got nothing to worry about. That woman loves you, even Stevie Wonder wouldn’t miss the way she looks at you.”
“We haven’t said—”
“Not saying the words doesn’t negate the feeling. Relax, Polk, she’ll be back in a few and you can take her home and mark your territory all over again.”
I shake my head and take a seat in the waiting area to the side. She’s probably right, but my brain is refusing to believe it. I guess after waiting for Quinn for so long, I’m a little nervous that it’s all going to go up in smoke and I’ll be left with nothing…not even my heart.
I’m being ridiculous. And sappy. And acting like a teenage girl. I pull out my phone and text my office manager at the clinic. She assures me everything is good, and the animals will be happy to see me tomorrow.
I’m not sure how long…ok, 27 minutes and 33 seconds later, Quinn comes strolling down the hallway with a peaceful smile on her face and a pep in her step. Guilt wracks me instantly, how selfish I was not to realize how much Ford’s prognosis was weighing on her. Regardless of any romantic feelings between them, she cares about him, and they were once friends. She looks up and sees me standing and that smile becomes blinding. Quinn practically runs to me, closing the distance between us quickly, then throws herself into my arms, peppering kisses all over my face. This is a good sign, right?
“Quinn?” Madison calls her name with a grin.
“Sorry,” she says between kisses. “He’s alive and awake and ashamed and you should take care of that. Polk and I have somewhere to be.” The others laugh as they walk down the hall, leaving us alone.
“We do, do we?”
Quinn leans back far enough to meet my eyes, mischief and pure joy in the depths of her beautiful eyes. “Boys are at school for a few more hours…wanna go back to my place and get to first base?”
Laughing against her lips, I reply, “Careful, I might try to steal second.”
She grins, dropping to her feet. Holding my hand, she leads me to the elevators, “Can’t steal what’s freely given.”