Chapter Eighteen

Eli

"William Fuller?" Janice types the name on her tablet.

"Yes." I tap my fingers on my desk. "I want you to find out everything about him, especially who he's working for."

I promised Quinn I'd take care of him, and I have every intention of keeping my word. Besides, this is my fight now, too.

"Do you want me to just scour the web or do you want me to call Carl?"

Carl is my go-to private investigator.

"See what you can find first, and then I'll see if we need Carl's services."

"Of course." She holds the tablet at waist level with both hands. Then her lips purse as one of her heels taps the floor.

I look at her curiously. Usually, she just asks me if there's anything else and then leaves the room, but this morning, there seems to be something on her mind.

I rest my arms on my desk. "Okay, Janice. What is it?"

She taps the back of the tablet with her thumbs. "I was just wondering, sir, if... William Fuller is Clive Hardy's father?"

"What?" I lean back with furrowed eyebrows.

Wherever did she get that idea?

"Absolutely not. He's a scumbag who's trying to seize the Hardy farm. He even had Quinn's brother beaten up, and he tried to hurt her, too."

Janice gasps. "That's horrible."

"Despicable. That's the kind of man he is."

She frowns. "Then it's a good thing you were there, sir. Well, I'm sure Quinn would have done something on her own - "

"She tried. But Fuller had bodyguards."

Janice's eyes grow wide. "Bodyguards? Were they armed?"

"With big fists and nasty tempers, at least."

She shakes her head. "Well, then it really is good that you were there. It was a good idea for you to visit her on her day off."

Yes, it was. I don't know what I would have done if I found out someone had seriously tried to hurt Quinn. No one messes with what is mine.

And Quinn is mine, even if we're just two adults having sex.

No. That's not right. What happened yesterday wasn't just sex, though it was amazing sex to be sure. I still can't believe Quinn took the lead, and damn, that view when she was on top of me -

"Did something else happen while you were there?" Janice interrupts the replay in my mind. "Something more pleasant, maybe?"

I realize I'm smiling. She gives me a knowing smirk.

I swear sometimes she can read my mind. That used to be a good thing.

I shift in my seat. "Well, I helped Quinn pull out some weeds."

Her eyebrows rise. "I wish I could have seen that. Chopping firewood and pulling weeds. Farm life seems to be growing on you, sir."

"And she showed me the tree house her brothers built for her when she was a kid."

"It's still around?"

"Yes." I nod. "Still in quite good shape, too. That reminds me. I think I'd like a tree house on this property. Could you look into it?"

"Sure." Janice lifts her tablet and makes a note. "But won't Marianne fall out of it?"

"Let's hope not. At any rate, a tree house is safer to climb than a tree, don't you think?"

"Well, you have a point. I'm sure she'll love it. I mean, who doesn't love a tree house? They're peaceful. They provide breathtaking views. They're cozy and romantic. And fun."

Quinn's tree house was definitely fun. A bed would have been nice, though.

"Anyway, I'm glad you had a great time at Quinn's, sir," Janice goes on. "I mean in spite of everything. Anything else, sir?"

So she has nothing else in mind?

"That's all." I turn to my laptop.

She goes to the door and opens it, but I don't hear it close. I look up from my screen to see a maid outside the room talking to Janice, who then walks back up to my desk.

"What's wrong?" I ask her.

"Apparently, there's a Steven to see you," Janice informs me.

My eyebrows arch. "Steven?"

There's only one Steven that comes to mind at the moment, though I have no clue what he'd be doing here.

"He doesn't want to come inside the house, though, so he's waiting for you by the shed."

I stand up. "I'll go see him right away."

I find Quinn's brother sitting on the tree stump next to the shed. His face still looks purple and swollen beneath his sunglasses and the shadow of his baseball cap, but at least he can get on his feet, which he does when he sees me.

"Are you sure you should be up?" I ask him. "You still look like an eggplant."

Steven snorts as he takes off his sunglasses. "This is nothing."

At least he can open one eye.

"But you still don't want Quinn to know you're here?"

"She'll make a fuss. Women always do."

I nod. "Does your mother know you're here?"

"What am I? An eight-year-old?"

I take that as a no.

"What about your wife? Have you told her what happened?"

He shakes his head. "Like I said, women make a fuss. It's wired into them. They should save that for more important things."

And this isn't important? At any rate, I don't have the right to give him a lecture.

"So what are you doing here?" I ask him instead. "There must be a reason."

Steven shrugs. "I just wanted to thank you, I guess, for helping yesterday."

Well, this is a surprise.

I shake my head. "No worries."

"Not just with carrying me into the house but for protecting Quinn and for telling that Fuller off."

My eyebrows furrow. "I thought you were unconscious."

"I couldn't move and I couldn't see, but I could still hear, and I heard quite a bit."

"Well, I was there, so I had to do something. I couldn't just stand by and watch. You don't have to thank me."

"You think I want to?" Steven sighs as he places a hand on my shoulder. "The last thing I want is to owe you something, but things are what they are."

"You don't owe me anything."

He slaps the back of my shoulder. "Just accept my gratitude, damn it."

I rub my shoulder. Even though he's injured, he's still got a lot of strength in him. I doubt either one of Fuller's bodyguards could have taken him alone.

"Fine. You're welcome, and I'll be sure to collect that debt someday."

Steven grins. Then he points a finger at me as he steps back. "But don't you think that just because I owe you one means you can do whatever you want with my sister. If you hurt her, I'm still going to beat the life out of you. Are we clear on that?"

I put my hands up. "Perfectly."

~

"Ugh. I don't understand this!" Clive places his fists above his head.

I glance at the screen of the laptop he's been playing on to find that he's failed to activate the green switch in Super Mario World. Again.

How long has he been trying?

"Hey." I pat his shoulder. "Easy, buddy. Why don't you take a break? Maybe you're just tired."

His hands slide to his cheeks and squish them. "Or maybe I suck at video games."

"Nonsense. No one sucks at video games. Everyone has a game they're good at and a game they're bad at. Maybe this just isn't your game."

That doesn't seem to cheer him up at all.

"Besides, you've only been playing for a few days."

I decided to lend him my spare laptop just so he could learn how to use one. This day and age, every kid has to know that. Quinn wasn't too happy about it at first, but she doesn't seem to mind anymore. And Clive seems to be having fun. At least, he was.

I squeeze his shoulder. "I'm sure you'll get the hang of it, buddy."

His shoulders drop as his arms fall to his side. "I don't know."

"What do you mean?" I pinch his cheek. "Don't tell me you're quitting. You know your mother doesn't like quitting."

"Well, I'm not like my mom." He rubs his cheek. "She can do anything. Well, almost anything."

"You're right about that. But you know what? So can you. And you don't have to be like your Mom. You just have to be you and do your best, and then you can do anything you put your mind to."

Clive shrugs. "I can't do judo even though I tried to before, and Mom can. She used to be good at it."

Judo? Quinn used to do judo?

At once, that girl in the library comes to mind. The one who thought she could beat me at judo. I beat her, but that was only because she had a wardrobe malfunction. As much as I hated to admit it then, her skills were a match of mine. She could have won.

But that couldn't have been Quinn, could it? A lot of girls do judo.

Still, that girl had red hair, too.

"Mr. Strauss." Janice enters the lounge.

I turn to her and find a worried expression on her face. "What is it?"

"I found out something."

Something bad, by the looks of it.

I squeeze Clive's shoulder. "Just keep trying. I'll check on you later."

I leave the room with Janice so we can talk alone.

"What did you find out?"

"You won't believe who William Fuller works for," Janice says.

"Who?"

She draws a deep breath. "Isaac Banks."

The sound of that name is enough to make my shoulders tense and my jaw clench. No wonder I found Fuller despicable. He's just like his boss.

And now that I've rattled that cage, things are bound to heat up.

The corners of my lips curve into an amused grin. Well, bring it on.

My thoughts are disrupted as I hear Marianne crying.

I run out of the room and go to hers, but she isn't there. The cries are coming from upstairs.

What is she doing upstairs? And where's Quinn?

I dash up to the third floor and follow the sound to the left wing. Outside the open door, I freeze.

This room. What are Quinn and Marianne doing here?

Quinn kneels on the carpet, and it looks like she's picking some bits and pieces off it. Beside her, Marianne rubs her eyes and cries.

"Marianne." Janice runs to her and puts her arms around her trembling shoulders.

I stand still as my eyes linger on the shards on the floor. Porcelain? Then I see what remains of a green and white teapot and my chest swells.

"What did you do?" I pick up the teapot with shaking hands.

"Eli, it was an accident," Quinn tells me. "She didn't - "

"She wasn't supposed to be here." I turn to her. "Nor were you. No one was supposed to be here!"

Quinn slowly rises to her feet. Janice ushers Marianne out of the room.

"Where do you think you're going?" I turn to Marianne. "I'm not done with you yet. Do you have any idea how much this is worth?" I lift the teapot. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"Eli!" Quinn grabs my arm. "She didn't mean to break it. She - "

"And you." I whirl towards her. "Were you the one who brought her here?"

She shakes her head. "No. She found this room by herself. She brought me here because she wanted to show me - "

"Do you have any idea whose room this is?"

"You mean was. Meredith's not here anymore, Eli. She's gone, and nothing in this room or in this world is going to bring her back."

My eyes grow wide. My fingers tighten around the handle of the broken teapot before hurling it down on the floor. It shatters against the carpet and Quinn gasps.

"Get out!" I yell at her.

She lifts her chin even as her fists tremble at her sides. "You can't hold on to the past forever, Eli. You have to - "

"I said get out!" I point to the door.

For a moment, she just stands there meeting my gaze squarely with her own burning amber eyes. Then she stomps out of the room.

As soon as she's gone, I sink to my knees on the carpet and pick up one of the porcelain shards. My fingers close around it and my palm bleeds. But that's nothing compared to the pain in my chest as it fills up with frustration, anguish and regret.

Why? Why won't the pain go away?