Quinn

“What’s up with you and him?”

I glance up from my mug of coffee not quite present. “Huh?” Taking a sip, I try to focus my blurry vision on Officer Carter. The blond with the fit body, easy smile, and charm might be some people’s cup of tea, but he’s not mine. He has an arrogance that rubs me the wrong way when he’s trying to lay it on thick. I know officers are supposed to remain vigilant and professional, so I’m chalking his flirting up to boredom or being a part of his persona.

“You and Hemnway. I mean you are together, right?” He arches his brow and peers at me over the rim of his coffee.

“I figured that was pretty obvious considering we share a room.”

I have no clue where the hell we are in Texas, but we drove for a good three hours and ended up at a cabin removed from civilization as we know it. The four-bedroom dwelling is done up like the ultimate bachelor’s pad with its navy and green colors, leather couches, and bare walls. The stark setting makes it feel like an extended stay in a hotel with overly attentive workers. Carter and Johnson are always around. The only peace to be found is in our room, and that gets old fast.

“I mean yes, I get it, but you seem very different.”

“Haven’t you heard opposites attract? Besides, he’s not really himself right now.” I take another sip to keep my tongue from getting ahead of my brain. The man just lost the most precious thing in his life a few short weeks ago. So what if he’s not outgoing now?

“Yeah, I have. Most of the time it doesn’t work out in the long run.” He shrugs.

“Let me guess ... you don’t do long term relationships?” I use my free hand to air quote to add that extra punch of obnoxiousness.

“Not with this job. Women can’t handle me going off the grid for cases, you know?”

“Sounds like you haven’t met the right one then.”

“Are you one of those people?”

“What do you mean?” I tilt my head as he frowns and wrinkles his nose.

“You know, the type that believes there’s a person out there for everyone?”

I take a few more sips and frown as I really think about the question. “I’m not sure. I used to be like you, skeptical and guarded.”

“Then what, Hemnway showed up and changed everything?” He bats his eyelashes, and I scowl.

“Yes, and not in the silly way you’re presenting. That man literally took a bullet for me because it was the right thing to do. You save someone’s life and literally have their blood on your hands, it bonds you. The romance that happened afterward came naturally. I will always be there for him and by his side defending him from any and every thing.”

I lean against the counter and continue to meet his gaze head on, hoping he’ll get the message. The last thing I want is to agitate Ollie. He’s dealing with enough. I think the lack of contact with his family is starting to take its toll. He’s close to his mother. Right now she’d be a source of comfort and guidance from him. I’ve never been a parent, and as much as I want to help him, I feel most of the time my words are ineffectual and fall on deaf ears.

Carter’s wide-eyed expression would be amusing if I wasn’t so over being contained in a small space with the three men. Life in a safe house is strange. The only familiar thing I have with me is clothing, a few books, and Ollie, and half the time he’s a stranger. He goes from being okay to dark and brooding in the span of a heartbeat. I try to pull him out of it, but I swear he feels guilty for that.

“Got it,” Carter says.

“Good,” I mumble. Pushing away from the counter, I retrace my footsteps back toward the bedroom. The cabin is midsized with a deck, but they don’t want us wandering about much. So every day the space seems to shrink. I’m tired of Cards against Humanity, Uno, and Spades. I’ve read the books I brought with me, plus the twenty or more that I’ve gotten offline. We have the internet, but I know they monitor it. Essentially, I’m a teenager on an extended punishment for my own good. I open the door and quietly enter the room where Ollie is still sleeping. The rest is probably the best thing for him at this point. I’ve often heard the death of a child brings parents together or drives them apart. At this stage, I’m not sure which way we’re headed.

It takes two to make things work. The thought brings tears to my eyes. Closing my lids, I fight them as I cup the mug and absorb the warmth. I sink down on the side of the bed and take a deep breath. Just a few more weeks and the trial will begin.

Ollie rolls toward me. He smacks his lips, and his eyelids flutter open. He grunts. “What time is it?”

“A little after eight o’clock. You got somewhere to be?”

He snickers. “I wish.” He rolls onto his back and sighs. “I never knew how boring nothing could be. It’s driving me crazy not knowing how things are going at work, or what everyone is up to. It’s insane being kept in this bubble.”

“I know. I’m crawling out of my skin. I haven’t had this much downtime since I caught the chicken pox in second grade,” I say.

He pushes himself up, and I offer him my cup. “I know you love me because you share your coffee.”

Smiling, I kiss his cheek. “I do.”

“I know. Thank you for being here with me. I know I’m not always pleasant to be around.”

I run my hand over his hair, smoothing down the duck tail that’s popped up. “You don’t have to thank me for that.”

This is a good morning.

“Kind of feel like I do. Some days I’m on autopilot. I walk around here like a zombie, and it’s not fair to you.”

“Hey, you feel how you feel. Don’t feel bad for that. If you step out of line, you know I have no problem speaking up.”

“Ain’t that the truth?”

I nudge him with my elbow. It’s a glimpse at the man I originally fell in love with. Encouraged, I snuggle up beside him and rest my head on his shoulder. Closing my eyes, I soak up the normalcy we’ve been sorely lacking.

“Anyone else up yet?”

“Carter.”

“Of course he is,” he says dryly. I note the friction between them, but do my best to stay purposely blind to it.

“Dude definitely seems like a morning person. Me, I’m fumbling in there trying to get caffeine down my gullet so I can people.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever really seen you be mean to someone.”

“And you don’t want to. When I finally get upset, it’s ugly.” I’m not proud of my mean streak, but I know myself, and my flaws.

“I’ve been on the receiving end of your stubbornness, so I think I can imagine.”

“You’re a funny guy today, huh?”

He smirks. “I like to think I am every day.”

“You’re something all right.”

“What do you want to do today, sassy? Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve catered to me.”

I glance down and shrug. “I mean I’d kill for ice cream, but we know that’s not going to happen.”

“Ha, it might if you ask nicely enough. We’re getting low on supplies. I’m sure they’re thinking of re-upping on groceries soon.”

“Is it horrible that the thought of them gone is exciting?”

“Hell no. This wouldn’t be bad at all if it was just the two of us.”

I needed those words more than he can know. He’s still in this with me. There are days when it’s hard to be the strong one. I need to be put first, comforted, and supported, too. I crave his sweet words, gentle touch, and attention. It seems so petty to mention when I know the depths of despair he’s swimming through.

“Come here.” Setting the mug on the nightstand, he tucks me under his arm and massages my scalp with his fingertips.

“That feels so good,” I say softly as I moan and lean into him. When he nips my bottom lip, my belly quivers. His tongue darts out and traces my lips. I lean into him, starved for the intimacy he’s initiating for the first time in weeks. Cupping my face, he slants his lips over mine, taking control. I’m a malleable clay, ready to be shaped and molded by his hands. He lowers me to the bed onto my back, and I open my legs, welcoming his weight. His bulge brushes up against my crotch, and I whimper at the friction he causes through our pajama bottoms and my panties.

“They’ll hear us,” I whisper.

“Let them.”

The fire in his eyes makes me want him more. He grinds into me, and I bury my fingers in his long hair. He’s rocking facial hair, and I’m feeling it. I tug it slightly and he moans as he smashes his lips against mine and our body finds a rhythm while he ravages my mouth. His tongue and teeth own me. My legs are shaking, and my panties are wet. He strips me down with a soft touch that makes goose bumps break out over my flesh. He pins my hand above my head, cuffing my wrists with one hand as he caresses his way down my body. I’m burning from the inside out.

“Oh, Ollie.”

“You feel so good. I can’t get over how soft your skin is.” He cups my right breast, kneading and pulling my nipple. I wiggle as he continues to build the pressure. His lips move from my mouth down my neck, where he focuses on the spot behind my ear that makes my toes curl.

“You’re so pretty when you make those sounds for me,” he rumbles.

The muscles in my stomach jump as he skims them with his fingertips and stops at my bikini line to stroke a line back and forth. My breath comes in small pants of anticipation. He chuckles.

“You want more? You’ll have to ask me, sassy.”

“Please touch me.”

He drags his fingers to caress the tops of my thighs. I open my legs, and he moves inside, stopping shy of my throbbing molten core where I need him most. I whimper.

“Is this not where you want me?”

“Ollie,” I whine. Saying the words aloud always feels so intimate. Even more than the act itself.

“Tell me. I’ll give you whatever you want, but I want to hear it.”

“Touch my pussy, Ollie. Make me feel good.”

He strokes down my cleft, and my brain nearly explodes. I shudder as the pleasure winds up through my body. It’s been too long.

“Like that?” he asks, whispering in my ear as he circles my clit with his thumb.

“Oh yes.”

“Or like this?” He rolls my clit between two fingers, and I arch off the bed.

“Both.”

He bites my bottom lip and circles my entrance. Whimpers and whines spill from my throat as I break free from his teeth and thrust my tongue into his mouth, groaning as he presses two fingers inside of me, filling and stretching as he crooks his digits and pumps. I rotate my hips, and he hits the spot that makes me see colors. Clamping my thighs around his hand, I trap him in place.

“Right there.” My body quakes, and I come, hard. His satisfied hum rings out in my ears as I slowly drift back to the ground. He runs his swollen cock between my slippery lips and taps the head against my sensitive bundle of nerves. I flex and find myself empty.

“Ollie, I need you.”

He peers up and meets my gaze as he gives me every inch he has to offer in one smooth stroke. I grip his biceps, and he pulls out. We find a steady rhythm that renders me speechless as he fills me over and over again. I wrap my legs around his hips, and he wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me onto his lap. Straddling his legs, I wrap my arms around his neck. I like it this way when we’re as close as two people can get.

We’re reconnecting, and my soul is singing. Synchronized, we work our way up to a blinding crescendo I feel from the top of my head to the soles of my feet. This man is my heart living outside of my body. I rest my head on his shoulders and breathe in his scent. Having him present with me in this moment is everything I’ve been missing.

“Now that’s how to start the morning,” Ollie says.

I giggle. “I agree.”

He kisses my collarbone and lifts me off his limp member. “We should shower.”

“We should, but that would require moving.” I flop onto my back.

“Maybe a little more sleep, then.” We snuggle together in the center of the bed. Our bodies cool down, and the afterglow tucks around us like a snuggly blanket. I live for these moments between the stress of our existence and the grief over losing Rolly where things are okay.

***

OLLIE

The only time we’re allowed to step outside is at night. Who they’re worried about seeing us, I can’t guess, because we’re out in the middle of nowhere. We’d see anyone else coming a mile away. I lean down against the railing. It’s quiet out here. The sky seems endless, the stars shine brighter and larger, and if I wasn’t stuck with Carter and Johnson, I could find beauty in the tranquility. Right now I hate the silence and the inactivity. Being trapped here gives me nothing to do but think. My brain replays the happy times with Rolly. He was a brilliant, happy kid with wild hair, bright eyes, and an adventurous spirit.

He would’ve loved being here now. There’s a lake not far away from the cabin where I would’ve taught him how to fish. My vision blurs. I’m never going to do that now. He’ll never graduate from high school, go to college, or start a family. I feel robbed of all those occasions and a legacy. He was the best of me embodied. What do I leave behind now, to who? Allie is making it clear to anyone with working eardrums this is not just my fault, but Quinn’s, too.

As if we asked to be robbed, shot, and stalked. I can’t be anywhere near her. I’m afraid I’d snap, and things would get violent. Roland was our son, not just hers. She doesn’t get to be the only one who’s affected. Her selfishness and drama make me want to strangle her. Bowing my head, I wonder where he is right now. I always liked the idea of heaven, but I’m not sure if I’m a true believer.

It’s hard to believe in God when I live in a world where such horrible events occur regularly. The days of not locking your home are long gone, and now you can’t even walk down the street or do the right thing without suffering the wrath of pure evil. I’ve never seen anyone look as inhuman as Santiago did that night with eyes full of death and no remorse. The image will haunt me until the day I die. My spine stiffens. I sniff. The familiar scent of bubble gum bubble bath hits me, and I turn slowly. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I’m not sure what I expect to see, but there’s nothing there.

Rolly? The smell increases and a warmth fills me. I close my eyes and it’s like he’s beside me. I can almost feel his tiny hand in mind. My shoulders shake with silent sobs I can’t hold back. I open my eyes and peer up just in time to see a spark of light shot across the sky. A falling star. I feel a ghostly hand brush against mine. He’s here. Peace settles over me. He’s here, and right now he’s somewhere safer than any place I could imagine. The words in my head are foreign to me, but solid—in a way facts I’ve known all my life to be true are.

I’ve heard of people having spiritual experiences before, but I never imagined one would happen to me. Turn around. I slowly rotate my body, and the door opens to reveal an uncertain looking Quinn dressed in black pajama bottoms and one of my old Metallica T-shirts. Swathed in the light of the room, she looks like an angelic being. I blink and rub my eyes.

“Ollie, you okay?”

Unsure what to say, I continue to stare at her. She’s a light in the darkness ... literally. Is that what you’re trying to tell me, Rol? To hold on to your Quinny?

“Ollie?” Concern is evident in her voice.

“I ...” I glance over my shoulder. “You’re going to think I’ve gone around the bend, but I swear Rolly was just here.”

“I don’t. What happened?”

“I smelled his bubble bath. That awful sickeningly sweet bubble gum scent. You remember?”

She comes to stand beside me. “Oh yes, I remember.”

“Then I got warm, and I looked up and saw a shooting star. I swear, I felt him grab my hand.”

“Of course he’s around. You’re his daddy, and we have a big day coming up.”

“You’re Catholic, right?”

“I am. If you’re asking me if I’m a good one, I’d say not as much as I should be, but I’m growing.”

“What does your religion say about ghosts? Aren’t they not supposed to exist?”

“Well, we believe our loved ones become saints, and they help guide us. There’s nothing to say they can’t manifest themselves in a more physical manner. I believe they do.” She grabs my hand and squeezes.

“I’ve never really been sure what I think about God. I mean, heaven is a nice thought. But there’s no real proof, and things get a little worse every year.”

“Well, Earth isn’t God’s, it’s the devil’s. The big man’s just trying to give us a chance to be saved.”

My head whips around. “What?”

“This is why we’re asked to be in the world, not of it. All of the greed, vanity, lust, and a million other things our culture has come to hold up as important are the antithesis of what’s in the Bible, which make sense because the world is Satan’s.”

“How did I not know that?”

“Well, there’s not much talk about religion openly these days,” she says quietly.

“Do you believe that?”

“Yes. The things we’re capable of doing to one another is literally inhuman. At first, they say we didn’t know any better. Neanderthals with limited understanding of the world and weak communication skills lead to savagery. But the more we learned, the more damage we did to Earth and one another. That’s not of God. At least not the one I imagine exists.”

“You think he’s up there on a cloud marking everything we do in a book?”

She frowns. “Not in my head. I can’t speak to the details from experience, but I always imagine heaven would be different for each person. That all their favorite things and people are there.”

“That sounds amazing.”

“I think so, too. What do you think?”

“I know there’s something more now. I’m open to exploring different interpretations of that.” I have to believe there’s more now. Otherwise, I’ll never get to see Rolly again, and I can’t handle that.

“Yeah?”

I nod. “I lost my faith when I discovered my dad was cheating on my mother and everyone in the town knew it. We were sitting there every Sunday with the same people talking about her behind her back. It turned my stomach. I wondered why God would allow it. My father flourished, he went on and had another family, and my poor mother was the one shamed.”

“That’s the thing about Christianity. There are plenty of people who talk the talk without walking the walk, and it makes us all look bad. I’m not the most devoted, but I try to follow my own code. Since the robbery, I’ve made it to mass a lot more frequently.”

“I didn’t know that,” I say. Six months later, and I’m still learning new things about her.

“Meh. I wasn’t hiding it, but I wasn’t advertising it either. It never really occurred to me to mention it.”

“I don’t know how to live my life without Rolly in it. Who am I?” I place my heads in my hands as the heaviness settles over me like gravity hell bent on forcing me into the earth, where his tiny body rests.

“I wish I could answer that for you, but I can’t. I promise you, I’ll be there while you figure it out.” Her voice shakes.

“Why?” Can’t she see I’m a failure at the most basic level. I couldn’t protect her. I couldn’t even protect my own child. The guilt eats at me like crows relentlessly pecking at a meal.

“Because I love you.” Her voice is sure and unwavering. It burns me with its purity.

“We both know I’m a wreck right now.”

“Yes, but you’re my wreck. Do you not want that?”

“You’re the only thing keeping the tattered pieces of my soul together. Do you think we’re going to win this?”

“I think we have to.” Her voice shakes.

Or all of this will have been for nothing. She doesn’t have to say the words for me to understand them.

“What happens if we don’t?”

She shakes her head. “Then maybe you’ll get to watch me go over the deep end, because at this point I’m hanging by threads. Between the long days in the cabin, lack of contact with the outside world, and constant fear, I’m looking down over the edge.”

I unlink our fingers, wrap my arm around her waist, and pull her to my side. I have no words of comfort. We both know how bad things can go. Empty words would be a slight to her intelligence. I return my gaze to the sky with a new perspective. Are you up there somewhere, Rolly? With my Nana and Papa? The thought pleases me. I’ll never survive if I think everything that made Roland Rolly is gone. It would make life purposeless. I glance down at Quinn. “Do you think you could talk to me more about being Catholic?”

Feeling nothing landed me alone in a drunken stupor in a hotel room. It’s time to go in a different direction.

“Of course I can.”

Her words ease some unknown tension inside of me. It’s the first positive step I’ve taken for myself since she all but pulled me from my room kicking and screaming. It’s amazing what we’d do for others and not ourselves. If she hadn’t hinged her need to be protected on my participation, I would still be there. There are days when I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not. But I’m still here.

***

THE DAY WE’VE ALL WAITED on is here, and my stomach is knotted. I’m dressed in a three-piece charcoal suit that hangs off my frame. I hadn’t realized how much weight I was losing. I study the slender face in the mirror and adjust my hair. I’d wear makeup and a wig if I thought it would increase the odds of the jury believing me.

The rustle of fabric draws my attention to the reflection behind me. Quinn is dressed in a turquoise dress with a three-tiered pearl necklace that drapes down and has matching earrings. Her hair has been tamed, pulled back, and fluffed and curled to perfection. She turns to look at me.

“Are you ready?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for this.” I quickly tie my tie and straighten it.

“I hear you. More than anything I want it over with.”

“The protection was temporary. Have you thought of what’s going to happen afterward?” I ask.

“A lot. I can’t go back to the old apartment. What that means I don’t know.”

“Why not? Did something happen?”

“No, but I’ll never feel safe there.” She winces.

“It’s okay to speak openly. I feel the same way—”

“Yeah, times a million. I didn’t mean to be so insensitive.”

I hold out my hand. “You were being real. Where are they going to keep us during the trial?” I ask.

“Some hotel nearby I’d imagine. There’s no way we can make this three-hour drive every day. I know that much.” I keep my voice low. They don’t like it when we speculate. She rests her hand on my shoulder and steps into heels that put her at my height.

“That’s true. I don’t bother asking anymore because they never tell me, and if I guess too close, they get edgy.” I roll my eyes.

“A few more days and we’ll be done.” She kisses my cheek and walks over to the bed where our suitcases sit. We pack in silence, and I take her bag as we walk out of the room for the last time.

“You clean up nice,” Carter says.

“Thank you.”

He scowls, and I smirk. Quinn cups my face. “He’s so pretty it hurts.”

“You two ready for this?” Johnson asks, bringing things to a more serious note.

We exchange a look.

“We’re ready, “I say.

We follow them out of the cabin and into the black sedan with heavily tinted windows. Everything boils down to this. The thought of putting justice in the hands of others doesn’t sit well with me. I tense and peer out the window as we pull away and onto the road. Going to a quiet place in my mind, I sink back in my seat. Soon this will all come to a close.