Quinn

 

The next day, I’m climbing into my car after my shift at the salon when my phone chimes from within my purse. I’d just set it on the passenger seat, and I pick it up and dig out my cell phone.

When I see who’d text messaged me, my heart sinks. I hadn’t replied to Slade’s message yesterday, and I’d been hoping that he’d take the hint. Looks like the hint had gone unnoticed, because he’d just sent, Why are you ignoring me?

I stare at the text and bite my lip. I had hoped that I wouldn’t actually have to tell him that I’m no longer interested. His remorseless eyes flash in my mind, and I know I should be careful with how I respond. I have a feeling that Slade isn’t the kind of guy that handles rejection well. No one does, but Slade’s…different.

After five minutes of typing and deleting, I eventually send, I think we’re both looking for two different things.

His reply comes back within seconds. We’re not done yet.

He can’t be serious. If I say we’re done, we’re done. We were never anything in the first place, I send back.

Our game is just beginning, he replies.

What the hell does he mean by that? Another text pops up on the screen, but this time it’s a photo. I tap on it to enlarge it. It’s a photo of Ash, Harper, and myself, entering the pool hall. Ash is opening the door, and my head is tilted as I laugh at whatever Harper had been saying at that moment.

The phone in my hand vibrates with another text, and a chill runs down my spine as I close the photo and look at the new one he’d sent. This one had also been taken from outside the building, except the three of us are inside and sitting at the table.

A third photo shows us leaving the pool hall, completely oblivious to the fact that we’re being watched. My phone is silent now, and I toss it to the passenger seat as if it’d burned me.

Shit.

He was following me last night?

After shoving the key into the ignition, I pull out of the parking lot and begin heading home, my mind racing. Did he follow me on a whim and is just playing with me? What if he’s not playing? Just how bad could this get? If he’s actually stalking me, I can’t hide it.

As I slow for a red light, I release a heartfelt curse and slam my palm against the steering wheel. I knew better, damn it. I’d known that sleeping with Slade could possibly backfire, but I’d never imagined that he might be disturbed.

I brought him into my life.

I did this.

While I wait for the light to turn, I slowly exhale. First thing I need to do is figure out how serious he is. There’s an uncomplicated way to do that—I go out again and see how he responds. I’m certain Harper will come out with me since Gabe works again tonight. Maybe it’s time to tell her the truth. I trust her, and she’s always great with advice. Maybe she can help me figure out what to do about Slade.

The light has changed, and as I ease the car forward, a new thought occurs. What if Harper is hurt that I’ve kept my feelings for Colt to myself all this time? It wasn’t technically lying. I was just omitting the truth. Nah, Harper isn’t like that. She’ll be disappointed, but she won’t be mad.

When I pull into the driveway a short time later, I’m relieved to see that Colt hasn’t made it home yet. Neither has anyone else. I go inside and head to my room to change. Soon, Ash arrives home, and shortly thereafter, Channing.

I’m sitting at the patio table near the pool when Harper tracks me down a bit later. She plops down into the opposite chair. “Ash and Channing left,” she announces. “I’m bored. Have you eaten?”

She’d just given me the perfect opening. “Not yet. Want to go out?”

“Sure. Where to?”

“Pizza?” I question.

Harper sighs. “I need to stop eating out with you.”

“A piece of pizza isn’t going to hurt your figure.” I’ve always been envious of Harper’s body. She looks like a classic pinup girl with those curvy hips and tiny waist.

A grin tugs across my lips. “And he loves every inch of you.”

“That’s beside the point.”

“Fine. What’s your suggestion?” I ask, giving in.

“Chinese?”

My nose wrinkles. “Ew, no.”

She shakes her head, brushing a strand of chestnut hair away from her eyes. “You need to broaden your horizons.”

I give an unladylike snort. “With Chinese? No thanks.”

“Sea food?” she challenges, her green eyes narrowing.

“Gross.”

“You’re hopeless,” she says with exasperation.

“And proud of it,” I tease.

“Fine. We’ll get pizza, but I’m only eating one slice,” she states firmly.

“I’ll remind you of that when you’re reaching for a second slice,” I say with a laugh.

She gives me another look and rises to her feet. “I need to shower after the day I’ve had.”

“Just let me know when you’re ready.”

After she goes inside to shower, I wander into the house just as Colt happens to be coming down the hall towards the basement.

He pauses, his eyes locking on mine. “Everything good?” he asks simply, referring to whether I’ve had issues with Slade.

“Everything’s fine,” I say without hesitation. It’s not really lying since I have no idea if Slade’s serious or not.

Colt’s eyes drop to the scarf around my neck, and the skin visibly tightens around his eyes. After a prolonged second, he walks past me. I don’t take his abrupt exit personally. Colt isn’t one to linger and draw out a conversation. He says what’s on his mind, and then he considers the conversation finished if there’s nothing left to be said.

It takes forty-five minutes before Harper and I leave the house.

I drive us to my favorite pizza establishment, and a few minutes later, we’re sitting in a booth and watching as the waitress walks away with our order.

Harper reaches for her glass of soda and takes a sip. “Did you hear her last night?”

“Hear who?” I ask with confusion.

“Either Colt or Sebastian had a woman over.” She grimaces. “I definitely won’t miss that.”

A dull ache begins to form deep within my chest, and I use my nail to trace a scratch on the tabletop’s surface. “No, I didn’t hear.” Thank God.

She must pick up on my mood. “Quinn, is something wrong?” she asks, concern evident in her tone. “Did Slade contact you?”

I look up and meet her gaze. “He sent me a text yesterday while I was at work,” I admit.

“What did it say?”

“He wanted me to drop by his place.”

Harper’s brows knit together. “But I thought you told him it was over.”

“Not exactly. I just wanted to get away from him, so I let him think there’d be a next time.”

She stares at me. “Oh. So did you break it off yesterday through text?”

“I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I just let it go,” I say sheepishly. “I was hoping that he’d take the hint.”

“He didn’t, did he,” she guesses.

I shake my head and dig my phone out of my purse, bringing up today’s text conversation. I silently slide it across the table to her.

She picks up the phone and reads the messages. A little wrinkle forms between her eyebrows as she taps on the photos so that she can see them enlarged. Her eyes lift to mine. “He followed us?” she asks, looking nervous.

She’s still getting over her near-death experience with a stalker, and I can see the fear in her eyes. Our situations are completely different, but she still went through hell. Suddenly, I feel terrible for dragging her into this.

I gently take the phone from her. “I am so sorry. I wasn’t thinking…”

The fear quickly fades from her eyes. “Hey, don’t say that. If you’re in trouble, I want to know.” Her gaze drops to the phone I’d placed near my elbow. “Quinn, that’s a bad sign. You need to tell the others,” she says seriously.

I shake my head. “I can’t.”

“Why not? He’s stalking you.”

“I’m not sure what he’s doing, Harper. Slade’s into games. Those texts, they might just be a way to get a rise out of me for breaking things off.”

Harper leans in close, her expression sober. “Quinn, he took photos. What part of that isn’t creepy?”

“That’s the thing, he’s naturally creepy.”

She gives me an odd look. “You were attracted to creepy?”

“Apparently so,” I say dryly. I also add, “There’s a possibility that he only followed me last night on a whim.”

Harper’s quiet for a moment. “You know him better than anyone. What do you think?”

“I think,” I say slowly, “that if I have photos or comments sent to me tomorrow—about us, right now—then I might have a problem on my hands.”

Her eyes sharpen. “You’re testing him.”

I nod.

“This way, you’ll know if he’s serious.”

“I’m hoping this doesn’t backfire,” I mutter.

“No, it’s brilliant.”

“I should have never gotten involved with him, Harper,” I say heavily, my tone full of regret.

She looks at me curiously. “Then why did you?”

“It’s complicated.” I don’t know how to explain to her what I’m feeling for Colt and why I’d kept it from her.

“Talk to me,” she urges.

I hesitate and then look around the bustling little restaurant. No one seems to be paying much attention to us. “I don’t know where to begin,” I say quietly.

“Start anywhere, and we’ll sort it out together,” she says, her green eyes full of encouragement.

Her reply is the exact reason I’d asked her to come out with me. If anyone can help me deal with this mess, it’s Harper. I brace myself as I prepare to divulge my secret. “My feelings for Colt are far from sisterly,” I tell her, getting straight to the point.

She stares at me and slowly says, “I see.”

“Slade could probably pass as his twin, so that’s why he was so appealing,” I add. There. It’s out there.

Harper sits back in her seat, blinking. “Give me a second to process this.”

“Sure.” I pick up my soda and take a sip, waiting.

“Okay,” she says after a long pause. “How long have you felt this way towards Colt?”

“A while.”

Her eyes narrow.

“A year or more,” I confess.

She looks at me with exasperation. “Quinn! Why didn’t you tell me this when it began?”

“Because if I didn’t say it out loud, I could pretend it wasn’t true. Harper, my feelings could change everything. They’re my brothers, I can’t let that happen,” I say, my voice thick with emotion.

“Not really,” she says softly.

“Gabe and Channing are, even if it’s not by blood,” I say firmly.

“But you don’t see Colt in a brotherly way.”

“I can’t help how I feel. I’ve tried to ignore it, and that sent me straight into Slade’s arms. Now look at the mess I’m in,” I say with frustration. “All Colt has to do is take one look at Slade, and he’ll know.”

“They’re that similar?” she asks, eyeing me.

“Yes.”

“Maybe he should know, Quinn.”

I look at her as if she’s lost her mind. “Absolutely not. It would ruin everything.”

“What if Slade somehow approaches you when Colt’s in the vicinity? There’s a chance that Colt could also figure things out for himself. Wouldn’t you prefer to be in control of how he finds out?”

“He’s not going to find out.”

She gives me a look. “You can’t control Slade. What are you going to do if he’s a total lunatic?”

“I don’t know,” I say miserably.

“Yes, you do. You’re going to need help.” She gives me a warning look. “If Slade’s as crazy as you’re implying, Colt will be livid if you try to handle this on your own.” Her eyes turn threatening. “I will be mad. If Slade isn’t rational, you can’t handle him. I know from experience,” she says bitterly.

Before I can respond, our pizza arrives. We thank the waitress, and a heaviness settles over us as we dig in.

Harper wipes her mouth with a napkin. “You know it’ll be worse if Colt finds out on his own,” she states, returning to the earlier topic. “And I’m not just referring to this mess with Slade.”

“There’s no point in telling him how I feel,” I say, putting down my slice of pizza and wiping my fingers on a napkin. “It doesn’t matter at this point anyway. Slade might just be taunting me without being a real threat,” I remind.

“For your sake, I hope you’re right. But if you turn out to be wrong, I want you to promise me that you’ll go to Colt with all this,” she insists.

I grimace, reaching for my soda. “I already promised Colt that I’d tell him if Slade becomes a problem. But that doesn’t mean I have to tell him everything—at least not if I don’t have to.”

“Quinn, you have to tell him the entire truth,” she chides.

I take a sip of soda and set the glass back down, shaking my head. “I don’t have to do anything,” I disagree.

“As soon as Colt learns Slade’s harassing you, he’s going to start digging. Who do you think he’s going to turn to for help?” she asks pointedly.

I release a groan. “Bryce.”

“Bingo.”

“But he doesn’t have a name to search for,” I remind.

“If Colt’s coming at you with demands of a name and everything else, how long do you think you’re going to be able to hold out?”

I fall silent.

“I’ll tell you,” she continues. “Not very long, because Colt’s about the only one that can talk sense into you.”

“Hey—”

“It’s true,” she insists, cutting me off. “I try, but it takes me a while. Colt just has to say a few words, and you cave and give in.”

She’s right, and I scowl.

“By the time he drags the truth out of you, he’ll be pissed that you didn’t just confide in him in the first place. Is that really how you want this to go down?”

I release a heavy sigh. “I hate you.”

She gives me an amused smile. “This is why I’m here. You need my help sorting this out, and my advice is to control the outcome, don’t let it control you. If Slade contacts you again and shows no signs of letting up, you need to go to Colt first, and then the others.”

“If I do that, I feel like I’m allowing Slade to ruin my life,” I say unhappily.

Her eyes soften. “I know, and it won’t be easy. But I don’t think you can handle Slade on your own, and I don’t think you believe you can, either.”