Chapter 40 #3
My fists clenched. I relaxed them quickly and turned around, avoiding her gaze. I leaned back against my footboard and looked up at the ceiling.
I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t hurt her. Why the fuck did I keep thinking I could do this?
She was broken like me. She would understand. If I just told her . . . I couldn’t do that either. I couldn’t tell her shit, because then, she’d die. I couldn’t keep her around much longer because she’d die. I couldn’t look into her eyes here and confess I want to kiss her because she’d die.
She was going to leave me like everyone else I’d liked before. I loved Christian. I loved him, and he was gone. He was right there, but he looked at me like we were miles and miles apart.
I wished Quinntessa looked at me that way. Instead, she put me on this tall pedestal, crafted from gold and beautiful green vines. If only she saw the vines were poisonous and that every time she touched them—touched me—she was destroying herself.
“Me.” My voice lowered, chest heavy. “You don’t get me.”
I was a psychopath, a mentally ill teenager with a father from hell and a mother molded by Satan. I was the end she should fear. I was Eleanor Harrekson, daughter of Graham Battles and Evelyn Harrekson, granddaughter of our grand authority, the bratva’s very own boss man.
I was a star, a sharp and deadly star.
“I want to, though.” Her voice sounded so angelic.
“You didn’t even want to come today,” I scoffed, turning away from her.
“Well, maybe I was lying, okay?” Quinntessa gulped and leaned to try and meet my eyes.
“Maybe…maybe I worried if I got to know you, I wouldn’t get to push you away anymore.
I’ve never really had anyone I wanted to keep around.
Quincy, I’ve moved all my life and learned to not get close to people. This is as scary for me as it is you.”
I understood that, the fear and the worry. She didn’t know the extent of it, but maybe she had an idea. Her father was an FBI agent. He held a gun to her head. There was a chance she knew exactly how I was feeling. Although, I doubted that sweet face was plotting to kill me.
“I might not get you, but I get your fear.” Quinntessa met my eyes through my messy hair as I hung my head. “If I let you in, are you going to stay? Isn’t that the big question for us both?”
“Will you?” I raised my head and met her gaze, pleading for her to settle the heartache in my chest. “Will you stay, Sally?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered.
I fought the wave of remorse the best I could. I bit down on my bottom lip before the trembling became too noticeable.
It hurt so much to think we were so close.
We were so close, but when I touched her, all I could think about was a way to end this.
I’d never felt such a deep, burning need to touch someone, not until her.
Not with our hug in the choir room echoing in my head, her arms around me as we drove here teasing enough to my senses.
“But I want to.” Quinntessa hung her feet over the side of the bed to face me. Somehow, my feet brought me closer to her without my approval. “Can you tell me about yourself, Quinn? More than your heartache?”
I tried to dig my nails into my palms, but Quinntessa reached out and took my hands. I looked down and licked my lips, her fingers fluttering over the scars I usually hid with my gloves, lacing our fingers together without hesitation.
“I want to know what keeps Eleanor Battles going,” Quinntessa whispered, our eyes meeting for a moment before she playfully rolled hers. “I’m a hypocrite, so let me start. My birthday is Valentine’s Day.”
“Is it?” I pretended to be surprised.
“It is.” She believed me. Poor girl.
“No way.” I kept up my act and glanced toward the calendar, thankful I had remembered to cover up where someone had drawn on it. “It’s not.”
“It is.” Quinntessa giggled, her adorable smile making heart bud in my eyes. “That’s why my dad calls me Qup—Cupid with a Q.”
Damn. Sebastian was pretty smart for that one. It was disgustingly adorable.
“I thought it might have to do with your obsession with pink and red and glitter.” I caressed her cheek and traced her highlighter, following down her nose. “So much fucking glitter.”
“You dyed your hair pink,” she pointed out, tracing little hearts on the back of my hand. “So why make fun of it?”
“Cheapest color,” I confessed. “I was broke and having a mental breakdown. Unstable girlies do what they gotta do.”
Quinntessa’s face flashed. She seemed bewildered by my confession. “I’m literally sitting inside your mansion.”
“I spent all my cash on weed right before the pink, so…” I took the opportunity to thread my fingers in her hair from the front, feeling how soft and lush her curls were. “It’s impressive how calm you make me. If Erica was here, I may have thrown her out the window again.”
“Again?” She frowned.
“Mhm.” I chuckled, thinking back to the time Olivia actually yelled at us both for falling off her roof trying to slap each other.
Quinntessa’s head leaned back as I tried to go further into her hair. She winced as my fingers caught resistance. I didn’t want to hurt her, so I pulled back and restarted from underneath, cradling her head.
I pushed my fingers through and bit my lip in excitement when she tilted her head into the path of my hands. My nails scratched lightly at her scalp, massaging over her ears.
Her eyes fluttered shut and her body relaxed. She let me do as I wished. It was hypnotic, the way her head fell back fully into my hands and let me enjoy touching her. I gently tugged her hair and forced myself to bite my lip, stabbing my tongue with my piercing as she quietly moaned.
Oh, pretty girl. You have no fucking idea what you’re doing to me.
I shuffled closer to her and closed my eyes, tugging a little harder and rewarding myself with her little gasp.
The music from the radio was gone, and all I heard was that damning melody I couldn’t escape.
I could feel her heart racing against the palms of my hands, her smooth neck teasing me from kissing her where I knew she had to be sensitive.
My thoughts become intrusive the moment I realized my thumbs were caressing the front of her throat. My hands were in the perfect position, just as they had been wired into my brain to be from a young age.
I imagined what would happen next. Three different outcomes flooded my mind, making it murky and uncertain.
I could tighten my grip and straddle her over the bed with a quick movement of my legs. Overpowering her would be easy in this position. I’d throw all my weight onto her windpipe until she turned blue and stopped fighting.
Quinntessa’s eyes opened filled with confusion.
“What are you doing?” she asked curiously.
I ripped my hands back like lava had dripped onto my skin. Quinntessa looked at me questionably, so I shot down and kissed her forehead. My eyes closed, lips lingering against her skin for a few much-needed seconds.
What was that smell? I wanted to be closer to her so I could tell.
Quinntessa smiled up at me when I pulled away. Her eyes could have been heart shaped and sprinkled with sugar.
“You’re like cotton candy,” she whispered. “Soft.”
“Says the cloud of glitter trying to be on the football team.” I chuckled and used my shirt to rid any makeup I had ruined. I dashed back onto the bed and sank down beside her. “You are one of the most teddy bearish people I know, and I’m best friends with Olivia Webster.”
“I’m not a teddy bear.” She cutely pouted.
“You are.” I crawled closer to her and smirked when she blushed. My back thumped against the bed as I rolled over, scooting my head into her lap. “Why not cheer? Soccer? Softball? You look great in football pads, but softball pants—fuck me.”
I moaned softly at the thought, closing my eyes.
I’d already found myself thinking way too much about her on the football field.
She lifted her shirt once during her entire try out to wipe down her face, and that sexy tummy and kissable curves showed.
I dreaded the way the boys might stare if she made the team.
“You’ve never actually seen me play, Quincy.” Quinntessa rolled her eyes but otherwise left me to lay against her. “When I play, there’s a whole new zing in my chest. Like lightning!”
Lightning. Hm. My lips tugged at a smile as I thought about her the other day, standing alive and well on her porch in the cutest boxers I’d ever seen. And the way they hugged her thighs, and an ass built for my hands? I had more self-control than I give myself credit for.
“Like…like I’m invincible,” she continued.
“Invincible?” I echoed.
“Yeah.” Quinntessa’s fingers brushed through my hair.
I hoped she’d give in and play with a few strands at least. “Everything disappears, and it’s just me and the ball.
Maybe it doesn’t look or feel that way to you, but this is everything I’ve had control over for a long time. One of the few things.”
“And that’s why you want to play football? For control?” My heart raced thinking about how much I loved archery for that very reason.
“I want to play football because I want to change my life. I want people to know who I am for once.”
“Quinntessa.” I grinned, her name a beautiful song on my lips.
“Yeah, I want everyone to know me as Quinntessa.” Her honey eyes sparkled. “Girl football wonder. The heart of the game. Faster than an arrow. I’m the?—”
“Qupid of the NFL.” I didn’t give her anymore chances to gain the courage to touch me. I reached up and grabbed her hands, forcing them into my hair and smiling up at her. “You could do it.”
I believed she could. She was fast, strong, well trained.
Her self-discipline when it came to sports was military-like, but I guessed that was from her father’s parenting tactics.
She never lost her cool, not unless she was on the field in pads.
The NFL would be much less worried about women if they just let them win for them.