Ollie

I’ve never been a man in touch with his conscience. That bullet changed more than my health. I spent Sunday alone with Rolly after Quinn left. While I always love hanging with my kid, her behavior still felt off. It’s not like her to be closed off about anything, even if it was her sister’s story to tell. Her texts have been brief, and I don’t like the fact that she seems to be avoiding talking to me on the phone. If she’s freaked about last night, we need to deal with it immediately. The thought of her regretting some of the best sex of my life pisses me off and makes me sick to my stomach at the same time. It was an interesting combination to have during a full day of work. Today Allie’s days start with Rolly, so I’m biting the bullet and driving over to her place.

Three days is a long time for us to go without talking on the phone or meeting up for a quick lunch. Trepidation fills me as I steer the car through the familiar streets. The droplets of water splattering against the windshield seem appropriate for my mood. I pull into the parking lot of her apartment building. I’ve never been a coward, and I’m not about to start now because I’m caught up in my feels. I jog through the rain and up two flights of stairs. I thought about calling, but I know she’d only dissuade me from coming over. I knock on her door and shove my hands in her pocket.

“Who is it?”

I frown. She has a peephole. Why the hell is she asking me who it is?

“It’s me.”

“Ollie?” Her voice wavers.

“Quinn. Open this door right now, or I’m kicking it in.” Dark images haunt my mind. Had the gangster from the zoo come back and found her? The locks turn and the door swings open. She’s a sight with her frizzy hair, black sweat pants, and a faded T-shirt. There’s a bat at her side and dark circles under her eyes.

“Quinn?” I step inside and grab the bat. “Baby, what’s going on?”

She shakes her head.

I close the door.

“Lock it. Did you see anyone on your way up here?”

“What? No.”

She jogs to the window and peers out the closed blinds. “Sometimes I think I see them.”

‘See who?”

“I don’t know,” she whispers.

“What happened when you left my house on Sunday, sassy?” I ask, putting bass in my voice.

Turning, she looks at me wide-eyed. She licks her chapped lips, and I wonder what kind of hell she’s been living.

“The messages started,” she croaks.

I walk toward her. “The what?”

“The FB messages. The shit they said. They want me dead for snitching, and they threatened to hurt my family to get the point across. Remember that day at the zoo?”

The words connect. A tidal wave of anger washes over me. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I wasn’t going to put Rolly in danger. I already got you shot. I can’t do that again. I won’t be that person. I’m not a damsel in distress.”

Her words stun me. “I never once said you were.” I rush forward and grip her shoulders, giving her a shake. “I don’t blame you, and you shouldn’t either. If we hadn’t walked together, I might be dead because there’d be no one to help me. Have you ever thought of that? Did they mention Rolly by name?” I dig my fingers into her flesh and fight the urge to shake her again.

Blinking slowly, she shakes her head from side to side. Relief seeps in. “I can’t believe you’d keep this from me.”

“I was thinking about Rolly.”

“At the expense of yourself? No, that’s bullshit. I can keep both of you safe. Do you have so little faith in me?” The thought hurts.

“No.” Her eyes glisten. “I know you so well. You’d put yourself in harm’s way for us.”

“Damn straight. Do you know why? Because that’s what a man does for the people he loves.”

“No.” She tries to pull away, and I hold her tighter.

“Yes. I love you, Quinn Scout Fleming.”

She covers my hand as the tears roll down her face. “I love you, too.”

“Promise me you will never do this shit again. If they’re trying to intimidate you, the last thing you should be is alone. Has anyone come by?”

“No. I don’t think so. I’ve been terrified every time I leave my house. I’m constantly looking over my shoulder and scanning my immediate area. I don’t even sit with my back to doors anymore.”

The picture she paints is grim.

“Did you call Detective Kunes?” If he left her high and dry like this, we’re going to have words.

“No. What if they find out and get even more pissed off?”

She’s not a woman who’s easily rattled, but this is preying on the scars left behind by a very recent and traumatic event. Seeing her like this infuriates me on her behalf.

“Pack a bag. You’re coming home with me.”

“No, I can’t do that.” She grips her throat.

“It’s not a request, Quinn.” I stare her down, willing her to argue with me. “I refuse to take any chances with you. You’d do the same thing for me, so stop being stubborn. We’re both going to contact Detective Kunes and see what our next step should be. You promised me were in this together, remember?”

She attempts to smooth down her wild mane. “I remember.”

“Good, then you’ll let me make good on that promise now.”

She sucks in her cheeks and then releases a breath. “I’ll pack.”

I rest my forehead against hers. “I know you’re independent. I’d never dream of trying to take that away from you. But we all need help sometimes. This is over both our heads.”

“You’re right. I just ... with Rolly there I panicked.”

“And I love you even more for placing my son before yourself.” After kissing her forehead, I place a hand on the small of her back and guide her into her bedroom. I need to touch her and reassure myself she’s whole. Inside her room, I pull her to me and wrap my arms around her waist.

“Ollie?”

“Do you know how important you are to me? If anything happened to you, I’d lose my mind, Quinn. No more trying to do this on your own. I need you to promise me.”

“Ollie—”

“It’s no longer just you. It’s us.” Her eyes dilate, and her nostrils flare. “I’m in this thing with you for the long haul, Quinn. Where are you at?”

“I’m here with you.”

I fist her hair. “Then this will never happen again. I take care of the people I love, and you’re on the top of that list. I came over here convinced you regretted sleeping with me or something might have happened to you. You got anything else you’re hiding from me?” I glance down at her and study her face.

“No. I’m sorry I made you feel that way.”

“What do you expect, sassy?”

She shakes her head. “I couldn’t think. It was like everything around me paused, and I couldn’t think straight because my head was full of static. Then the paranoia kicked in, and every car was a potential stalker, and every noise was a potential break in. And I couldn’t bring that around you. Not with Rolly—”

“Did you stop to think if you’re in danger, so am I?”

She covers her mouth with her hands. “Oh my God.”

“We can’t let them separate us,” I say as I massage her neck. “I’ve got your back one-hundred percent, just the way you’ve had mine. We’re going to get your things packed and settle you in my house. Tonight we’re going to forget all this shit we have no control over, and tomorrow we’ll contact Detective Kunes and go from there. Okay?” I ask, trying to pull her back from the edge they’ve pushed her toward.

“Okay.”

I let her go and step away. “Where’s your luggage?”

“In the back of the closet on the left-hand side.”

“Okay, you figure out what you’re going to take and I’ll get your suitcases.” I make my way into her walk-in closet and whistle at the organized chaos. Shoes are piled up in boxes and labeled and clothing is color-coded. I imagine she’s got to dress for the places she’ll be working.

“This is a lot of clothes, sassy.”

“Yeah, I’ve gathered them over the years. I never know where I’ll have to go work, and a lot of my friends make clothing. I’m never going to turn down an original piece.”

“If you say so.” My mind works overtime as I think about how we’d merge our households. I’d have to get a guy to come out and do a his and hers closet. I grab her hard back silver rolling cases and pull them out of the clothing hub that would make most women cream their panties. She’s making neat piles on the bed—shirts, shorts, underwear, and bras are lining up on the edge of her bed.

“How long do you think this is going to take?”

“Until we go to trial. I don’t think you should be alone anymore.”

Her back goes ramrod straight. “This is moving in, not staying at your house for a few days.”

“Would it be so bad to live with me?”

“I’m not saying that, Ollie. Maybe one day. Now, it’s too soon.” Her tongue flicks out, and she moistens her full lips.

“Maybe for some. This is isn’t a normal situation and nothing about our relationship has been by the book.”

“This is huge. We can’t make a decision like this based on fear.”

The hell we can’t. “It’s not fear. We’ve seen firsthand what they’re capable of. This is thinking smart and being preemptive.”

“Fine. I hear the case you’re pitching.” I ignore the clipped sentence. Her anger isn’t at me. We work together as a team and fill both cases to bursting.

“Do you need anything else? Essentials only.”

“My work equipment.”

“Then, let’s get that and head to my place.” Her shoulders slump.

“Hey.” I cup her chin and wait for her to meet my gaze. Her glassy eyes are a sucker punch to the gut. “It’s going to be okay.”

“I thought that, too. Then my social media blew up. It’s terrifying realizing they know who I am.  My address isn’t on my page, and as a business owner, yes, my information is easily accessible, but still. It shook me.”

“That was their intention. They eat, sleep, and breathe this. I’m sure most people would run for the hills, and their scum of the earth leader would be sitting pretty with no one to speak up against him. He took more than money from us. This is how we get that back.”

Her eyes blaze, and I know I’ve stoked that fire inside of her I love so much.

“You’re right.” She straightens and I release her face. “Let me get my things.”

I admire her organization as she zips through the house gathering things and setting them by the front door.

“I’m ready.”

Grabbing the suitcases, I meet her by the front door. “This is it?”

“All the others things I can buy once I’m settled at your place.”

“Our place,” I correct her. “At least for a while. I don’t want you to think you have no say on what’s going on here or that you can’t get comfortable and treat it like you would your own space.”

“Thank you, Ollie.” She gives me a small smile, and it’s like the sun peeking from behind storm clouds. We leave the apartment in silence. She’s mourning her independence, and I’m here to support her. After tossing her things in the cab, I look around the area as we pull out. No cars move to follow us. I take the long way around, getting on and off highways.

By the time we pull up in front of my house, I’m exhausted from the heightened tension. I glance over at her and find myself wishing this was under different circumstances. The thought is overwhelming. I’m the type of guy who covets his space. This woman has turned me inside out without trying and what’s even more shocking is how little I mind.

I hand her the keys. “You go unlock the door, and take a load off. I’ll bring everything in.”

“What? No.”

“Yes. You need it, sassy. You don’t look like yourself.”

I stare her down, standing firm. She liked to play at being Super Woman.

“Fine.” Taking the keys, she exits the cab. She’s irritated with me now, but I can see the way her eyes are drooping and her skin is paler. She’s dead on her feet.

By the time I have the last of the items in and lock the door I find her snoozing on the couch. After covering her body with a blanket, I move to start dinner. I’m going to show her with more than words how much she means to me.

***

QUINN

I want to be shocked that there’s nothing the police can do, but I’m not. The accounts have blocked me, and the detective assures me they’re probably dummy ones. I’ve recorded what I can, but the only relief I received was changing my privacy settings which I’m sure will slow down business in the long run. I have to check every message sent, and I put it off because I dread it. I hate to admit it, but Ollie was right. I feel so much safer at his place, and in the end, we truly are in the same boat together. Me being on my own won’t keep Rolly any safer because his father is in this up to his neck. I check my makeup in the mirror, and rush out the door, grabbing my makeup kit in one hand, and a coffee in the other.

Today I’ve been hired to do something out of the norm, a Quinceanera. The Hispanic rite of passage that occurs at fifteen is comparable to a sweet sixteen but much grander. With traditional ballroom dances, stunning dresses, tuxedos, and plenty of tradition it’s something everyone should experience at least once. Growing up here in Dallas, I’ve been lucky enough to attend a few. I’ll be doing makeup for her, her court of honor, and her female relatives. It’s times like these I wish I was better at taking photographs, so I could capture everything from start to finish.

Locking the door behind me, I head to the car with a spring in my step. Being cooped up in the house peering out the blinds like a refugee had me in a funk. I’m dressed to impress in black dress pants that celebrate my curves, and a cream-colored T-shirt that ties in a bow on the front. The shirt is simple but complex with a tapered waist and pearl buttons. My black kitten heels give me an air of sophistication while remaining functional for work. My mane is pulled back into a bun on the top of my head, and I feel good. The sunlight warms me as I load my things, slip behind the wheel, and crank up the Rise Against.

Living with Ollie has been ridiculously easy. I worried that living together would dull the shine that comes with new relationships. With our insane schedules, we’re still seeing one another for the same amount of time, and I get to fall asleep in his arms. Everyone wins. A small smile tugs at my lips. It’s been a long time since anyone called me on my stubbornness and came out unscathed. We really are meant to be.

I pull up in front of the hall where they’ll hold the party. Family members are spilling out of the space, rushing to and fro with decorations and food. They’ve already held the church ceremony. The makeup is supposed to be part of moving her from being a young girl to a young lady. I grab my things and approach the front door.

“Excuse me. I’m looking for Mrs. Martinez. I’m the makeup artist,” I say, placing my hand on the shoulder of the kind looking older gentleman nearest me.

“Ahhh. They’re in the gathering space, down the hall, and to the left.”

“Thank you.” I nod my head and move inside weaving through the bodies. This little girl is loved, that’s for sure. Men ranging from their sixties and below are all hustling. The sight of tattooed forearms unsettles me. I shove the reaction away, ashamed that I’m prejudging, and make it to the gathering space. A tiny woman with raven-colored hair broken by streaks of gray stands up. Her flowing white dress complements her curves and pops against her bronze skin. Her full cheeks, heart-shaped face, and Cupid’s bow lips work together to create one beautifully aged older woman.

“Mrs. Martinez?”

“Please, call me Paloma.”

“Then you must call me Quinn. I am so honored to be a part of Yelena’s Quinceanera today.”

“Yelena, this is Ms. Quinn. She’ll be doing your makeup today.”

Her eyes widen. “Mami, you got me a makeup artist!” She jumps, as much as she can in the pink ball gown, and I beam. This is a surprise done right. The moment passes and we head to the room where I set up shop. The vibe is joyful as Spanish and English is spoken. Her friends and family tease her while she sits in the chair and I carefully accent her cheekbones, lips, and eyes, making her seem a little older without over-doing it. Proud, I step back and admire my work.

“What do you think, Paloma?” I ask.

“She’s gorgeous. Ack, mija, you look so grown up.” I hand her mother the hand mirror and hold my breath as she moves the mirror in front of Yelena.

The girl gasps. “Is that me?”

“Sure is, darling,” I say as the warm and fuzzies start.

“But I’m so pretty,” Yelena whispers. Her eyes water and I pat myself on the back for choosing to go with waterproof mascara.

“You were always beautiful, mija.”

It’s like being in the middle of a Hallmark movie. The good feels have me on a high as I continue on to the next person’s makeup. Soon they’re all done up and lined up to make the big entrance. I feel like an interloper, but they insist I stay to watch the opening dance at least. I lean against the wall as she approaches the handsome boy dressed in a white tuxedo with a pink vest.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you around the famalia.”

I turn toward the man in baggy jeans and a white T-shirt. He stands out like a sore thumb in the sea of nicely dressed men and women. Tattoos wind their way around his neck and arms.

Swallowing, I force a smile as my body tenses. “You haven’t. I did the makeup for the girls.”

“That’s right, Quinn Fleming.” He spits the words out like I’m something indecent.

My stomach bubbles, and I brace myself to keep from taking a step back. If I give an inch, he’ll take a mile. I square my shoulders, grateful for my height. “If you knew who I was, why ask?”

He glares down at me with obsidian eyes full of hatred. “’Cause I want you to know I realize who you are, you little bitch. Going around yapping to dem boys in blue. You need to keep your fucking trap shut.”

My jaw drops and I back pedal.

He follows me, pressing me up against the wall. “You think anyone here is going to help your dumb ass? No, this is my family.” He pats his chest. “I made all this shit possible, so don’t think for a second they’re going to help you. And you best believe, there’s plenty more like me out there. You got anyone willing to go to war for you like that? You see how easy it was to get your stupid ass alone? If you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep your mouth shut.”

I can’t breathe as I stumble back, spin on my heels, and run like hell hounds are at my back, refusing to look back. I dig into my pants for my key FOB and hit the open button. I can’t hear footsteps behind me, but I’m not about to slow down. Ripping the door open, I throw my body inside as I fumble with the keys.

My hand shakes as I force the key into the ignition and turn. I slam the door and peel out with my heart in my throat. My brain doesn’t start working properly until I pull up into the parking lot of Maloney Mechanics. I slam on the brakes, not remembering one minute of the trip. Oliver walks out with a smile that quickly slips off his face as I stumble out of my vehicle.

“What happened?”

“They were at my job. Oh my God. They knew my name, and they told me if I knew what was good for me I wouldn’t talk.”

He pulls me into his arms. “Who said this?”

“I don’t know, some Hispanic guy at the Quincera I was hired to work.”

“Did he put his hands on you?” He grips my face between his hands.

“No, but he didn’t need to. There are who knows how many guys out there just like him. Oh my God. What are we going to do?” I rest my head on his shoulder as my head spins.

“Hey, everything all right, brother?” I recognize Houston’s smooth baritone.

“Naw, man. We got problems. I need to get out of here and take her to the station.”

“No.” I clutch his shirt. “Do you know what they’ll do to us if we go to the cops?”

“We have to.”

“No! Please, Ollie. God, don’t make me do that.” My body shakes at the thought of their retaliation.

“Quinn, they singled you out and got you alone. Do you know how much worse this could’ve ended?”

My chest aches and my shoulders tremble as the sorrow builds up inside of me. My life is spiraling out of control, and I have no way to pump the brakes. Hot tears escape from my eyelids and run down my face as I break. The sobs threaten to tear me to pieces as they rocket through my body, and Ollie holds me through it all.

“It’s going to be okay. We’ll see what Kunes say. They’re not going to get away with this shit on my watch.”

“Please, please, please.” I hiccup. “Don’t go to the station. They’re watching it. I know they are.”

“Okay. We won’t. I’m going to take her to my office, brother,” Ollie says as he steers me away from the parking lot where I’m making a spectacle of myself. I allow him to take the lead.

Sinking down in a chair, he pulls me onto his lap and wipes away my tears. “Hey. You okay?”

“I never even saw it coming, Ollie. I was enjoying myself. Hell, I actually berated myself for being paranoid. How do we stand a chance against them?”

He shakes his head. “We’re going to be scared to death either way, Quinn. We owe it to ourselves to stand firm on this. That’s how I view it. They damn near took my life. Am I going to let them punk me and push us into a corner, too? Fuck that.” His chest heaves and his voice deepens under the weight of his conviction. “Look, I’m going to call him, okay?”

“Fine.” I know I can’t stop him and he’s right. We need help. However, I can’t help but feel this is the worst idea.

“Hi, Detective, Kunes? This is Oliver Hemingway. There’s been an incident with Quinn. ... No, we don’t feel safe coming into the station. We think we might be watched and possibly followed at right now. ... Yes, she was approached at a job. ... No, there was no physical altercation, but they made it clear how easy it was to get her alone. ... I’m not sure. To be honest, it was hard enough to get her to let me call you. You didn’t do anything about the messages and now it’s escalated. ... I understand those were dummy accounts, but the fact is, you’re not offering up much in the form of protection. Do we have a firm date on the trial? ... Three months is a long time. ... Yeah, I understand. Do we have to come in to file a report? ... No, you can meet us? I think that would be best. You choose the time and place. We’ll be there. ... I know the place. Tonight at eight o’clock? You got it.”

Like or not, the die has been cast, and all I can do is live with what follows. An ominous sense of foreboding encases me like ice. My blood runs cold, and my chest aches. What lies ahead is going to test us both.

***

I SINK LOWER INTO THE booth as I peer around the diner. I’m making my best impression of a college student in gray sweatpants, an oversized hoodie, and a University of Texas hat. Ollie is dressed similarly beside me as we wait for Detective Kunes. The restaurant is a twenty-four-hour spot about an hour away from the house. I should feel safe, but I don’t.

Ollie places his hand on my knee and squeezes lightly. “You okay?”

I shrug. Giving him a line would be futile. We both know I’m on edge. Leaning my head against the cool glaze of the window, I close my eyes. Things have gone quiet. There have been no messages on social media since I changed my settings and no more odd occurrences. Maybe they’re waiting to see if their threats have succeeded. If I’d had it my way, they would have. The look in that man’s eyes was a promise of murder plain and simple. No hesitation, no remorse. I know without a shadow of a doubt, he’d slit my throat, watch me bleed out, and step over my prone body once I left his planet. There’s no winning against people like that. They have nothing to lose, and everything to gain.

I tried to explain it to Ollie, but he can’t see it the way I can. Not when all the attacks have been me-centric. I think it’s an experience you have to go through in order to fully understand. I tense as a black sedan pulls into the parking lot. My heart rate increases, and I sit up straight. The sight of Kunes exiting the vehicle hits me with a quick burst of respite that makes me shudder.

“He’s here,” I croak. I clear my throat as he walks inside and spots us in the corner booth in the back where we can watch the entire restaurant and the parking lot.

Slipping into the opposite side of the booth, he turns his blue gaze on me. “How are you, Quinn?”

“Hanging in there,” I say.

“I hear you had a scare?”

“Yeah.” I clear my throat and take a sip of water. “I was hired for a Quincera. Everything was going fine until the actual event. A man approached me, told me who I was, and basically said if I knew what was good for me I’d stop talking to the cops.”

“Is your Facebook page private?”

“No, I’m running a business. I want people to be able to find me. How could they know my name?”

“Their lawyer.”

“Wonderful,” I whisper.

“It’s not ideal. We’re working on getting the way things work changed.”

“But in the meantime, innocent bystanders are caught in the crosshairs for trying to do what’s right,” I retort.

He studies me, and I glance away from him.

“We can file a report and try to find the man.”

“Don’t bother. I know there are dozens more waiting to take his place. He made that very clear.”

“This is when we lose most of our witnesses.”

“Don’t try to sweet-talk me. We’re in this for the long run. I still have the right to be scared.”

“Yes, you do. These are dangerous men, but what you’re doing here is brave and necessary to get men like this off the street.”

I nod my head.

“I need to know you’re committed to this,” Kunes says. His words are warbled as if I’m Charlie Brown and he’s the adult speaking. It’s all noise that means very little to me.

“I’m here talking to you, aren’t I?” I lift an eyebrow.

“You are now. Will you be tomorrow?”

His words irritate me. “Funny how I’m being treated like a criminal here.”

“There may be something I can do to help you. But I need to know you’re not a flight risk.”

I tense and bite my tongue until I taste copper.

“She’s still processing, Detective Kunes,” Ollie says sternly.

“I need you two to think long and hard about your commitment. Once you decide, give me a call, and I’ll put things into motion to keep you safe until trial.”

“We will. Thank you for coming on such short notice,” Ollie says.

“I’m here for you two. I want to make that clear.”

As long as we testify.

Bitterness rises up inside of me, and I glance down when Detective Kunes leaves as quickly and quietly as he arrived.

“Why were you giving him attitude?” Ollie asks.

“Because we’re nothing more than a means to the end. We are the pieces he needs to move around on a chess board in order to win the game.”

“It’s not a game.”

“Not to us. What happens to him if we do this and get killed?”

“They’ll be out on the street,” he says dumbly.

“Yes, and he’ll still be in the same position. It won’t affect his life or his family. If we do this and we put ourselves at risk and our families, then what? We could lose our lives or theirs. That’s a lot of what ifs.”

“And if we don’t, will the fear go away? Will the threat? Once they know they can scare us into doing what they want, where does it stop?”

“Right there. All they want us to do is to keep our mouths shut. I’m not sure it’s not the best course of action to take.”

“I don’t agree.”

“Then I guess we’re at an impasse. I’m having enough trouble dealing with the guilt I have over you. I’m not trying to add any more to my plate.”

“So you’re backing out?” he asks incredulously.

“I don’t know what I’m doing right now, Ollie. Can I please have time to deal with the fact that these animals defiled my workspace and showed me how quickly they could invade my life? You have no clue what that feels like.”

“And you have no idea what it’s like to know the man who shot and nearly killed you might walk.”

His words make me cringe. I can’t help but feel like I’m failing him. I hang my head, embarrassed, and frustrated by the no-win situation I find myself in.

“I’m sorry, Ollie.”

“Yeah, me too,” he says quietly.

Is he taking my uncertainty personal? Am I not supporting him by straddling the fence? The questions swirl around in my brain. I have no answers. The space between my ears is crowded, and my mood is dark. I’m angry, scared, and confused. This is calling to question my very character. Maybe I’m not the woman I once thought I was. It’s one thing to wonder what you’d do in theory, and another to live it in real life. It’d be different if it was just the two of us, but it’s not. A dull throb beings in my temples. I massage the pressure points in an attempt to stave off the migraine trying to creep up on me.

“Hey, you okay?” Ollie asks.

“I feel a headache coming,” I admit.

“What’s happening now isn’t about us. I know we have two different opinions on the best way to approach this. I’m not going to hold it against you.”

“Are you sure about that?” I whisper.

“I’m passionate about it, yes, but I can keep it separate from our relationship.” I tilt my head up, and he kisses me softly. “I love you, Quinn. That’s something I take very seriously.”

“I do, too.”

Just like that, we’re recalibrated, but I can’t shake the feeling in my gut.