Chapter 39
“Can I get you something to drink?” I ask Roger. “Or I could make a pot of coffee if you want.” I put my hand on the fridge handle, still getting a little thrill out of being a person with her own apartment that can say stuff like that.
After Mom was arrested, the guys helped me clean out our old place.
We boxed up her personal things and shoved them into a dark corner of a storage room in the Outlaw Sons barracks.
Sinner suggested throwing a party and burning it all, but I’m not quite ready for that.
Instead I’ll leave them to get musty in the dark, and if a time comes in the future where I’m ready to give them back or throw them in the ocean, well, I know where to find them.
There wasn’t much of my own I wanted to save.
Shoeboxes full of little things I saved over the years to remind myself of the happy times.
Programs from every theater production I’ve ever been in.
Tickets if they had them. A dried flower from the first boy I ever kissed, not knowing exactly how much better things would get in that particular department.
Furniture and the rest of it I listed online for free and gave out to whoever was willing to come pick it up. The mismatched things I got from the girls at the club already have happier memories associated with them than anything from before.
“Sparkling water? Anything diet? I’ve been assigned a physical therapist and a nutritionist. Both of them faint at the mention of sugar and I have to report every drop of alcohol and caffeine like I’m a recovering addict,” he grumbles.
“If you’re looking for sympathy, you’re not getting it here.
I’ve had enough changes this summer. I do not want to add looking for a new agent to the list.” I take a diet soda out of the fridge and pour it into a glass for him with some ice.
“Besides, I want to keep you around for as long as possible.”
Priest comes out of the bedroom wearing nothing but a towel around his waist as he finger-combs his hair. “Hey, Q? Where’s—Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you were already here. Be right back.” He vanishes, probably to go get dressed.
“I could make that boy famous,” Roger says, completely serious. “Give me a month and he’d have half the female population eating out of the palm of his hand, and more of the men than would ever admit it.”
I laugh, imagining how that would actually go. “I think you’d find him difficult to work with, and his background check would be a little sketchy.”
“With that body? People would forgive just about anything.” Roger sighs. “But I suppose I’ll have to make do with being the agent for the new Cassandra Wright. Ladies and gentlemen, may I present, Quinn Callahan!”
“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” I scream. “I got it? Seriously?”
He nods, grin stretching practically from ear to ear. “If you want it. We can go over the contract on Monday. They don’t start filming until after Saving the World season two wraps, and it’s only three episodes, but you’re their top choice. You have a week to let them know.”
“Um, let me think. Yes?”
Cassandra Wright is the main character in a new series of gritty, queer crime novels. It’s the sort of thing Mom would never have let me audition for, and it won’t earn the same sort of money as whatever the next big studio blockbuster would, but I made my choice and I’m happy with it.
Roger and Mom weren’t wrong. Choosing to keep Priest, Sinner and Colt in my life means that I’m not everyone’s cup of tea.
But that’s okay, because I don’t want to leave this city, and there are plenty of people out there who don’t mind that I don’t live a white picket fence, two point five kids sort of life.
There are even quite a few people that seek me out because I bring a more interesting vibe to the table.
“Sorry about that, I didn’t know we had company already,” Priest says as he comes back out in actual clothes. He walks over and kisses me softly. “Hey Roger. I heard happy screaming. Does that mean good news?”
“Cassandra Wright. You’re looking at her.” I strike a pose, pointing to myself with both hands.
“That’s fucking amazing, baby. We’ll have to take you out later to celebrate.” He grabs a bagel out of the fridge and leans down to steal another kiss before taking off. It’s so domestic I’m surprised there aren’t actual heart-eyes floating around my head.
Roger smiles at me like a proud father once Priest is gone. “It’s not what I would’ve picked for you, but I’m so happy you’re happy, Quinn. I hate that it took Sheila doing what she did and going to jail to make it happen, but I love watching you stretch your wings.”
We’ve talked around Mom a lot, but both of us seem to avoid getting too deep, like she’s a bruise that’s still healing. “I hope you know that I’ve always thought of you as more than just my agent. You were the only reason my life was half as normal as it was.”
He grimaces. “It wasn’t easy keeping my mouth shut sometimes.
Don’t hate me, but there were some days I wished she would just cross a line that would make it easy to report.
I did the best I could and hated that I didn’t do more, but I knew that if I pushed too hard she would find someone else and I didn’t trust that they would put your best interests first.”
I go to him and wrap my arms around his chest, hugging tight. “Sometimes I wanted that, too.”
It’s true. Mom’s abuse was death by a thousand cuts.
Physically she never hurt me enough for people to pay attention.
I went to school. I had clean clothes. She was strict, but that’s not a crime.
She monitored my weight, but I never starved.
She loved people telling her how pretty or talented I was. I was an asset that she cared for.
But sometimes she was fun.
And sometimes she’d bring home sushi and we’d watch reality TV together.
And sometimes she’d hold my arms so hard there’d be tiny bruises.
Learning how to let myself be loved without it hurting is a work in progress.
Having Axel back in my life helps, but it’s been hard sometimes.
When we talk, I can’t ignore everything that I pushed down for so long.
But Colt, Sinner, Priest, and all the new friends I’ve made are making it way easier than I ever thought possible.