Chapter 32
Quinnly
There’s this cute little diner in town with pie and an older woman that calls us sweetums and darlin’. I like her, and the other blonde one too. She brought me the last slice of pie they had and after one bite, I can see why it’s a big part of their sign outside.
“I think we should stick around here for a few more days…”
“I’ve got nothing but time, Menace.” Reaching across the table he swipes my last bite of pie and if I hadn’t been so excited to see him, I’d stab his hand with my fork. Settling for a growl, he reaches across the table and knocks my chin. “I’ll buy you another slice tomorrow.”
“Deal,” sliding out of the booth I skip to the counter and stop the old woman.
“What can I getcha, sweetums?” She stops, placing a pitcher of the sugariest water on the planet on top of the counter.
“How can I get more of that pie?”
She laughs, and swats at the air, “Lucy makes ‘em daily, I can save ya one if you’re stickin’ around.”
“See that hunk of handsome over there?” I turn and wave at Lincoln who just shakes his head. “He’s gonna pay for it, and pick it up.”
The old woman winks, and rings up our food plus the pie for tomorrow as Lincoln makes his way over. Pulling out his wallet, he hands her a hundred dollar bill and says, “Make that two pies, please.”
She laughs, and writes down something on her little pad with her fancy pen that flops when she writes. “You’ve got it darlin’, y’all here for the rodeo?”
“Something like that,” Lincoln answers before I can get a word out. Probably a good thing too because that’s not at all what I was gonna say.
“Well, I’ll have your pies ready in the mornin’, you two have fun.”
Lincoln puts all the change into the tip jar and plucks a toothpick out of the little shot glass beside it. Following me out, he leans down and whispers in my ear, “I’ve missed you, Menace.”
“Oh yeah?” I stop just outside the door and he sweeps me off my feet and into the truck he rented. I guess, ‘when in Rome’ or whatever. Plopping me into the seat he buckles the belt and kisses my cheek.
“I’m gonna have my way with you tonight, little psycho.”
“Mhmm, you better.” I purr.
Taking a break, even though I’m itching to finish with only three states left, is exactly what Lincoln and I needed. We fucked, goddamn did we fuck, and we ate all the pie, then fucked some more.
We spent more than enough time in Goldspur Ridge, even with the Sheriff combing through the streets after the two bodies had been discovered.
Then once the whole ordeal became too much for them, they called in the good ol’ FBI and we laughed from the rooftop of the Bed and Breakfast we’d chosen to stay in as they rolled into town.
South Carolina wasn’t too different, only much, much shorter.
I’d talked to Fern earlier today, and I’m surprisingly excited to see the Hemlocks. It’s been almost four years since I’ve seen their faces.
“They’ll let you in the gate this time,” I reassure Lincoln the closer we get.
“Funny.”
The car rolls to the gate and I hop out, despite Lincoln’s request not to. I have to run up the driveway, it’s tradition. Diego opens the gate with a “Hello, Quinnly,” over the speaker.
“Let Lincoln in with the car!” I shout, already shooting toward the mansion.
Once the gate opens, Lincoln follows me up the driveway even though there’s plenty of space for him to go around. When I make it to the mansion, Fern and Creed are there waiting like always.
Rushing into Fern’s arms, I slap a big kiss to her cheek and enjoy the grumpy look it puts on Creed’s face.
“Bringing trouble here, Q?” He asks, looking over my shoulder at the car before opening his arms too. Of course I hug him, he’s a big ol’ softy even though he acts like he’s not. He can’t hide it from me, or Fern.
“I made your favorite,” Fern says, looking past me to where Lincoln is getting out of the car. They know who he is, and before I can say anything, there’s a blur of a person rushing past us and attaching herself to Lincoln.
He wraps an arm around her and they laugh, for a second very bad thoughts cloud my brain, until Fern leans down and whispers, “Salem’s been a little family starved.”
Salem, right. His niece.
Fuck, I need to get better at remembering.
Then Tobias walks out with a little spawn that looks at me with wide eyes.
“Wild One,” he laughs, “we’re just sitting down for dinner.”
He looks older, which logically makes sense, but it’s weird. He’s always been a gangly teen, at least to me. Maybe I’m getting old too.
“Let’s eat,” Creed says, slapping his hands together and ushering us in. Lincoln and Salem follow after I’ve already made it to the dining room and filled my plate with Fern’s cooking. Diego, Nile, and Luca join us as well.
“Where’s the sap and his loverboy?” I ask, looking around for the curly haired one and the redhead.
Cin, Talon’s girlfriend, snorts. Her hair’s longer now, with red streaks through it. “Henry’s at the bakery,” she says.
“And Banks will be here anytime, his training went late,” Talon says. He also looks older, but where Tobias has a beard now, Talon has remained clean shaven. The older look in him is more in the lines of his face, and the steadiness in his eyes.
“Training?” I ask, sitting up in my seat, fork half-way to my mouth.
“Football, Wild One,” Talon grumbles, “not everyone is a killer.”
I shrug and continue eating. Glancing around the table as everyone talks, I don’t know how they do it. They all live together, and they talk all the time. How do they not run out of things to say? Doesn’t it get boring, and redundant, always being surrounded by the same people?
Lincoln must notice me hyperanalyzing everyone and leans over to whisper, “This is what family feels like, Menace.”
I turn and gape at him. It still freaks me out when he reads me like that.
Banks walks in, sweat rings on his shirt and hair a mess. Fern motions for him to sit, and he does, piling his plate with more food than one human should eat in one sitting. I thought the twins looked different, but Banks, he’s much larger than the last time I’d seen him.
Muscles line his arms, his red hair’s pulled into a hair tie, and his shoulders take up all the space between Diego and the empty space I’m assuming is for Henry.
“If football doesn’t work out, I know another profession you’d be great at, Loverboy.”
Banks’s grey eyes slide my way and he smiles, “Football seems to be working out pretty well, Q.”
Forks clang against plates and the spread starts to dwindle as everyone continues eating. Fern gets up and heads to the kitchen, returning with a cake iced in the most delectable chocolate frosting. She sets it on the corner of the table and gives me a wink.
I fucking love her.
“Quinnly, would you like the first piece?” She laughs, knowing good and damn well I do, and I’ll fight anyone for it.
She cuts a chunk out and plates it for me, walking it around the table to set it before me. I don’t wait for her to serve everyone else, digging in I savor the chocolatey goodness. Fern is the sugar wizard.
I’ve finished my slice by the time everyone else is served, and the little spawn at the other end of the table cackles. She’s a little chaos goblin, a perfect mix of her father and mother, and completely terrifying.
“Lincoln,” Creed says, drawing my attention. “Would you join us in my study after dinner?”
He nods, finishing his last bite of cake and joining the men as they all head toward Creed’s man cave.
“Fine, have your Little Boy’s Club time.” I holler as they walk away.
Tobias kisses the little spawn and disappears with them, the only one that doesn’t go is Banks. He continues eating until his plate is empty, and then, he leaves.
“We’ll take care of the mess,” Fern says, “your room’s ready, and just the way you left it.”
Creed converted the attic just for me after the first time I’d visited. I’m so full, I can only lean back and rub my belly, but curiosity won’t allow me to head to the room I always use when I’m here. First I need to go snoop on the Little Boy’s Club meeting.
A small hand lands on my arm, and without turning my head, I cut my eyes to the little spawn. Jerking away, I leap out of the chair and Salem laughs. “Leave Quinnly alone, Emma.”
Emma giggles and steps forward, holding her arms out at me as she waves them.
“What do you want?” I ask, walking backward as the little spawn comes closer. “What do I do?” I ask Salem, wide eyes locked on her.
“She wants you to pick her up,” Salem says.
“The spawn can’t talk?” I ask, looking down at her.
“Oh, she does,” Cin laughs, coming around me and lifting the little spawn into her arms. “But she’s selective.”
Emma leans into Cin’s neck but her eyes stay on me. Sticking out my tongue, I walk away and head to my room.
I need to check in on my next hit anyway. I’ve been watching her for weeks, and somehow she keeps slipping through my fingers. She’s a slick one, paranoid and well hidden. I’ve had to use more hacking skills than I’ve ever used with any mark. But, I’ve always loved a challenge.