Chapter 65
“PAINT THE TOWN RED” BY DOJA CAT
Ialways loved the holidays. Halloween as my favorite. It was the perfect middle between loving the gentler side of summer and enjoying the winter without the snow, ice, and stupid Christmas decorations.
It was my favorite night to dress up.
“Quinn!”
One year, I dressed up as Peter Pan. He was magical and free. Sometimes, that was all anyone could ever wish for in life, right? The freedom to live on, however we chose.
“Quinn! Get up!”
It was my favorite holiday, next to celebrating Day of the Dead with Erica and her family. They were nice enough to include me and Estelle in their family traditions whenever I didn’t have plans with my family, which was every year.
Erica’s favorite holiday was Mardi Gras. We didn’t even celebrate it, but she thought it looked so fun down in New Orleans. I promised her I’d take her one of these days.
Olivia loved Christmas. She’d been setting up decoration since before Thanksgiving. Her family was all about those sappy traditions. She was loved and carefree, and sometimes, I thought she still believed in Santa.
“Quincy, you have to help her!”
I wondered if Quinntessa liked Valentine’s Day as much as she enjoyed Christmas. At least, I thought she liked Christmas. She loved making fun of those Hallmark movies and had a snow globe in her bedroom.
“Quinn, please. Please, get up!” That fucking annoying voice echoed in my head again. I tried to push it away and focus on watching the leaves fall above me.
“Leave me alone!”
Until I heard a shout that made my heart start beating again. My blurry vision of the sun was still spotty. My entire body felt like it was waking up to a thousand needles through my skin. I tried to move around and groaned, finding it much easier to lie here in the fallen leaves.
“Quinn!” The wind blew my hair into my face, something cold tickling my skin. “Quinn, she needs you.”
I swore, I knew that voice. It was different from the one shouting in the distance, though I knew it. I knew it well, so well, it made my body shiver and a tiny bit of warmth pool in my stomach.
“Help!” the other voice shouted, this time a little closer. “Somebody, help!”
“Mustang?” I mumbled.
I fought through the agony in my body and rolled over onto my stomach. There was blood on my hands. My shirt and jacket were torn. It felt like my legs could give out at any moment.
Loud sobbing bounced off the trees into my ears. I heard distant footsteps, then another gunshot.
“You can’t outrun me, bitch!”
Oscar.
An animalistic snarl escaped me as I let the pain motivate me to move. I dragged my feet up and forced them in the direction of the screams.
I swore to the dark father, if he brought my girl back, I would sacrifice every fucker who crossed us to him. Every. Single. One.
A frightened scream hit my ears.
“Quinntessa,” I panted weakly and forced my legs to move faster. It was snowing, a light dusting through the trees. The first snow of winter. “Sally!”
My heartbeat was thunder in my ears. The soundtrack to each footstep as my boots slammed into the forest floor. I was so grateful I changed when grabbing Estelle, because there was no way I’d be comfortable running in those cheap ass sneakers I stole from Erica’s junk bin.
Another scream. This time, much closer.
She’s alive.
I felt like I could finally breathe. She was alive. She was fucking alive. I swore I would kiss her so hard, it would kill her. I’d kill her. I wanted to fucking wring her neck for following me to that hospital, and then I wanted to marry her.
Fuck, I wanted her so badly. I was done fighting this shit.