21. Are you sure you’re not an angel in disguise?
TWENTY-ONE
Are you sure you’re not an angel in disguise?
An hour gave me enough time to take a quick shower at the station. I dressed in a pair of brand new yoga pants and a black t-shirt too big for me. It smelled like Quinn’s cologne, and I decided possession was nine tenths of the law, so if he wanted it back, he’d have to strip me out of it.
I really hoped he wanted it back soon.
When one of the Vermont State Police offered to pick up a late dinner for us, I got the feeling Quinn didn’t approve of my choice of the greasiest fast food money could buy. The cop found my request amusing, and when Quinn ordered rabbit food, the man laughed.
I ended up with a huge burger, fries that had taken a bath in a grease vat and were salted into oblivion, and a milkshake. “Are you sure you’re not an angel in disguise? Because this looks like heaven.” The cop chuckled and dipped into a bow. “Thank you so much.”
Quinn claimed his salad, set it on the table, and pulled out his wallet, but the cop waved him off. “I mugged the actual angel downstairs for cash already. Chief’s orders.”
“I like these cops, Quinn. They mug angels to pay for my dinner. Can we kidnap a few of them? I’m sure we could fit a few extra desks on the eighth floor somewhere.”
“Run while you can,” Quinn suggested.
Still laughing, the cop obeyed, leaving Quinn and me alone in the break room.
The late hour gave the place an empty vibe, although there were a few cops out in the main area hard at work.
I sat, unwrapped Quinn’s blanket, and draped it over the back of my chair so I wouldn’t ruin it with grease, ketchup, and mustard.
“That isn’t healthy.”
Yep, he didn’t approve of my glorious burger one bit.
I stared into Quinn’s eyes and took a big bite, making a point of exaggerating my sounds of enjoyment while I chewed and swallowed.
Then to drive the point home, I licked my fingers and smacked my lips.
“You’re just jealous because you can’t have any, especially my fries. Those are mine.”
“If I wanted fries, I would have gotten fries.”
I gave his salad a dubious look. “I’m not sure that’s healthy, either. How can such delicate fare sustain a big manly man like you?”
Chuckling, Quinn pointed at his dressing. “I’m using dressing. It lost its right to call itself healthy the instant I decided to slather it in liquid calories. Anyway, I had a big breakfast.”
“Was it a healthy breakfast?”
“It involved bacon.”
“Bacon’s healthy. I approve.” I set my burger aside and popped a few fries in my mouth, keeping one for when Quinn tried to claim bacon wasn’t actually healthy.
The instant he opened his mouth, I shoved the fry inside, cupped his chin with my hand, and helped him chew.
“It’s delicious, isn’t it? Yummy, yummy, delicious grease. ”
He swallowed, opened his mouth, and I crammed several more fries in. “Chew or choke, Quinn.”
After three more fry assaults, he covered his mouth with his hand. “You’re being ridiculous again. They didn’t feed you napalm, did they?”
I sulked over my thwarted attempt to feed him fries and popped the ammunition into my mouth. Once I swallowed so I wouldn’t choke, I giggled. “I got them to give me some C4.”
“Are you drunk?”
If I was, I didn’t care. “No idea. I’m feeling pretty good, though, all things considered.
If my ribs are cracked, they don’t hurt much, my headache’s mostly gone, and the stitches aren’t bothering me at all.
I thought they would fall out when I transformed.
I thought the cuts would have closed up, too. ”
“That’s Grandfather’s doing. He said something about keeping your insides where they belonged, and after that, I stopped asking questions and decided to be grateful.”
“I’m pretty sure he was exaggerating, Quinn. I was never at risk of spilling my guts.”
Quinn’s expression soured. “You were hurt.”
I loved his growl so much. “It’s my fault I ran in front of a transport. I earned my stitches. Hey, you should be proud of me. Before I ran out into traffic, I smacked an incubus with a door, then I mauled him a bit. I also went straight to the cops, too.”
“You stuck your head in a cruiser because you were cold.”
“It still counts.”
“I really don’t think that counts. You could have gone up to them, told them you’d been kidnapped, given them my name, and then stuck your head into the cruiser to warm up.”
Of course he’d use logic against me. “Says the man who lugged his blanket all the way from New York.”
He smiled at me. “You like my blanket, which is why you’re still snuggling with it.”
Busted. “That’s cheating, Mr. Samuel Quinn.”
“I’m known to do underhanded deeds to secure my victory.
No more joking around. This next part is going to be long, tiring, and very frustrating.
I thought I’d warn you before it begins.
We’ll have to go over the same thing many times.
We’ll discuss a lot of possibilities, most of them will be wrong or a dead end, and it’ll make you cranky. ”
“I come cranky by default. I thought you knew this already.”
“Crankier, then. We need to try to figure out Audrey’s goals so we can get ahead of her, especially if she’s capable of crafting gorgon dust.”
I grimaced. “Or is working with someone who can.”
“Yes.”
While it didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, I couldn’t force my thoughts away from the fact Quinn had brought his blanket with him. “You really brought your blanket from New York because I like it?”
Smiling, he reached across the table and flicked my forehead. “Yes, of course.”
I didn’t understand how something as insignificant as a blanket could hurt so much. I didn’t deserve him bringing me anything. Why? Every emotion I had packed away over the years escaped from their prison and converged in a single spot within my chest.
Quinn stood, circled the table, and crouched beside my chair. “Bailey, it’s okay.”
It wasn’t until he lifted his hands and brushed his thumbs across my cheeks I realized I was actually crying. It’d been so long since I’d cried without being sick or drugged the fact I could startled me. I swallowed to suppress them, but the tears came harder and faster.
I didn’t deserve it. I didn’t deserve him.
“Bailey, don’t cry. I thought you’d enjoy having the blanket. What’s wrong?”
“I didn’t do anything to deserve—”
My traitor mouth betrayed me, confessing my dark, dirty secret all on its own.
I opened my mouth to force out an apology, to somehow take the words back, but Quinn sighed and pressed his fingertips to my lips.
“You don’t have to do anything to deserve something like that.
I brought it for you because I thought it’d make you happy and you’d like it. I love you.”
Maybe his words would have made other women scream for joy or lose their minds, but not me.
I cried harder. Quinn dislodged his blanket from the back of my chair and wrapped it around me, kissed my forehead, and sighed.
“You’ve been told all your life you don’t deserve anything, haven’t you?
It makes me want to beat those assholes who dare to call themselves your parents. ”
I shook my head to deny it, but Quinn cupped my cheek in his hand.
“You’re just going to have to get used to it, because I’m never going to stop.
When I think you need something to help you feel better, I’m going to bring you our blanket.
I’m going to try to make your problems disappear, though I’m starting to think I might be striving for the impossible.
How am I supposed to keep the Calamity Queen out of trouble? ”
A choked laugh escaped me. “You don’t.”
“I’m doomed. I suppose I’ll just have to happily suffer.
I mean it. You better get used to it, because I really won’t stop.
When you’re stuck as a unicorn, I’ll bring you roses when I can’t convince the CDC to give me C4.
I draw the line at magic-infused napalm, though.
You might talk me into gasoline with a few additives so it has a gel-like texture and higher ignition point, but we won’t call it napalm.
I’m pretty sure I can come up with plenty of other little things you’ll like. ”
“But—”
Quinn covered my mouth with his hand. “I’ll do it because I want to. I like seeing you smile while you’re snuggling in my blanket. When I get you home, I’ll take you to the station and let you cuff me to a chair so you can force me to watch while you beat Suzy to death.”
If his goal was to stop me from crying, he was failing miserably. I sniffled and pulled his hand from my mouth. “Really, Quinn? Homemade napalm? Are you sure you’re a cop?”
He smiled, reached across the table, and grabbed a napkin so he could wipe my cheeks. “I’m a bad one. I ditched work the instant I got the call you were here. I may have forgotten to tell anyone why I was leaving. If I’m fired, I might have to mooch off you for a while.”
The realization he could mooch off me startled me so much I stared at him with wide eyes. I liked the thought of him at my mercy. “Underwear model.”
Quinn’s eyebrows rose. “You want me to model underwear?”
“I’d make a fortune to pay for your mooching.” Swallowing and rubbing my eyes, I cleared my throat and tried to pretend I wasn’t a sniffling, crying mess. “Why do I need to handcuff you while I beat Suzy to death?”
“It’s more fun that way. Everyone in the station will love it. You can gather your loyal fans and have them watch Suzy’s murder while I howl over the injustice of it all.”
A weak laugh bubbled up and escaped between my unsuccessful attempts to quit blubbering. “I don’t have loyal fans.”
“You have an entire station full of them. Not only did you get them a good coffee maker, you taught them how to use it. That’s automatic heroine status among us cops. I’m sure you’ll get used to it.”
“Now you’re the one being ridiculous.”
“If it makes you stop crying, I’ll be ridiculous and take my shirt off.”