Quinn

 

Someone’s shaking my shoulder. “You sick or did you sleep through your alarm?” I hear Gabe ask. The few times I’ve slept through my alarm, he’s been kind enough to drag my ass out of bed.

I groan. “I’m awake,” I grumble, and my voice sounds thick and a little hoarse. My throat also aches. Strange.

“You sound sick.”

I roll onto my back and shove my hair away from my face. “Not sick. Just wish I could sleep longer.” My eyes open, and I find Gabe leaning over me. Sunlight’s trying to sneak past the blinds in my room, and even in the dim shadows, I can see that his eyes are fixated on my lips.

That’s when I recall what had gone down last night.

Shit.

Gabe abruptly pushes away from my bed and stalks over to the light switch. Light floods my room, and I squint and cover my face with my folded arms as I try to sort out how to deal with this mess.

Now that I’m fully awake, I’m aware that my lower lip is stinging where the skin had split, and my neck is slightly sore. Shit, shit, shit. How the hell do I explain any of this to him? Much less the others? Oh God… Colt.

“Let me see,” Gabe demands, his voice close now. He’s likely hovering over me.

“I’m fine. It’s nothing,” I mutter.

“I said let me see.”

I sigh with irritation and drop my arms. “See? It’s just a little cut.” Before he can move closer, I sit up. “I’m a big girl, Gabe. It was just a little argument that got out of hand.” I hate lying, but there’s no way I’m confessing everything that had gone wrong last night.

Gabe’s staring at me. No, not at me. He’s staring at my neck with a look of alarm mixed with fury.

Oh no… Had Slade left bruises around my neck? I hadn’t considered that possibility, but with as hard as he’d choked me—and judging by Gabe’s growing horror…

My life is seriously going to shit.

“Quinn, what happened last night?” he asks softly as his eyes roam over the rest of my body, likely searching for further bruising.

Okay, time to salvage what I can from this mess. “I’m done with him. The second he hurt me, I left him. I’m never going to see him again,” I assure, hoping that I can prevent this from turning into something that it’s not.

Gabe’s silent as he stands there, his eyes watching me intently. The tension in his body betrays that he doesn’t believe me.

I rise from the bed, my eyes firm on his. “I swear it, Gabe. I won’t tolerate anyone hurting me. Last night was the first time he’s ever hit me, and it’s the last.”

“You need to tell me how it went down.”

That’s never going to happen. I glance at the clock on my nightstand. “I’m going to be late. I have to shower and split.”

His rigid posture warns that he’s not going anywhere. “You need to tell me what happened before Colt finds out.”

The blood drains from my face as it begins to sink in just how bad this situation could turn. Colt’s extremely protective of me, and he has a hair-trigger temper.

Gabe steps towards me, his eyes dead serious. “You can’t hide that lip or the bruises, Quinn. He’s going to find out, and I think it’s wise to control how he finds out. Do you understand?”

I slowly nod. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that someone needs to talk to him before he sees you. He already left for the day, thank God.”

“You’ll talk to him?”

“Yeah, someone has to. Quinn, I need to know what happened. He’s going to need to know, too. You understand that, right?”

I reach up and rub my temple. I could lie, but lies always have a way of unraveling. Plus, lying is something we all try to avoid with each other. It’s best to be as truthful as possible.

Gabe moves closer, his eyes urging me to confide in him. “You can talk to me about anything.”

Gabe gapes at me. Whatever he was expecting me to confess, it wasn’t that.

“Oh come on, choking someone during sex isn’t anything new,” I say flippantly, trying to brush off the entire ordeal. Easier said than done. Last night is going to bother me for a long time to come.

“Quinn,” he says slowly, finding his voice. “There’s an enormous difference between asphyxiation for pleasure, and whatever the fuck he did to you last night. There shouldn’t be bruises. You get that, right?”

“I’m not a moron,” I snap. “I know the difference, and he got caught up in the moment.” I point to my throat. “This is never happening again.”

His eyes search mine. “Are you okay? I mean really okay, Quinn?” he asks in a soft, deliberate tone.

I look at him with confusion until I realize he’s asking if Slade had raped me. There’s such a fine line with what had happened last night. I’d been a little uneasy, but it had all been consensual until the choking part. It hadn’t been the sex I’d been trying to halt, it had been his hold on my throat.

“I’m fine,” I assure him. “The only thing that wasn’t consensual was the choking bit.”

Gabe scrubs a hand over his face. “Colt’s not going to let this go,” he warns.

“He’ll have to. I’m never going to see this guy again. It’s done, there’s no point in dwelling over it.”

He shakes his head. “Colt’s going to want payback. Shit like that doesn’t go over well with him.” He looks at me with disappointment. “This could go south real fast, Quinn.”

His disappointment brings an ache to my chest. I’m the one that screws up the most around here, and I’m fully aware of it. Now I’ve gone and done something so stupid that it’s going to cause Colt—the one person I love more than anyone else—to struggle with his sense of right and wrong. He will defend family whether it costs him or not. That’s just the way he is. If he can get his hands on Slade, I’m certain Slade won’t walk away unscathed from the confrontation. Part of me would love for Slade to get his, but I love Colt too much to allow that.

“Don’t give him his name,” Gabe says with a hint of finality in his tone. This conversation is almost over, thank God.

“I wouldn’t have anyway,” I say quietly.

He’s silent a moment. “If you need me, I’m here for you.” His eyes linger on my throat. “What you went through last night, you didn’t deserve that, Quinn. The bastard should pay, but not by Colt’s hands.”

“Agreed.”

He nods and slips out of my room, quietly closing the door.

The second he’s gone, I drop my head into my hands and groan. As much as I want to process how badly this morning is unfolding, I know I can’t or I’ll be late. I hurriedly grab fresh clothing, my mind racing. This mess with Slade is going to destroy everything if I don’t find a way to tone down the severity of it.

I quickly head down the hall to the bathroom, and after tossing fresh clothes on the counter, I turn on the shower. I’d taken a shower last night upon arriving home, so I technically don’t need one. However, I’d like to avoid the inevitable questions I’ll receive if I show my face in the kitchen.

This thing with Slade is unsettling, and there’s a hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach that won’t go away. I’d let him into my life knowing that he would likely be bad for me, but I hadn’t been able to resist.

That’s my biggest problem.

I don’t think things through when it comes to men. I live in the moment and worry about the consequences later. Now if I were more like Harper, I would have known better than to mess with someone who could practically be Colt’s twin.

What the hell had I been thinking?

If Colt ever lays eyes on Slade…

Damn it.

All I can do is hope Slade will accept that our mutually beneficial relationship has come to a screeching halt. Hopefully, he’ll be ready to move on with someone else.

After my shower, I note the bruises on my neck when I peer at myself in the bathroom mirror. The bruises are faint, it’s the placement of the marks that’s the problem. There’s no mistaking they’d come from a man’s hand.

I glare at them.

I could cover them with makeup, but then my clients might assume I’m hiding hickeys. I suppose that’s better than the truth, but I’m not a teenager anymore. I’m a grown-ass woman, and hickeys are a thing of the past.

Maybe I could snag an infinity scarf from Harper. I’ve seen her wear a few when the temperature outside has cooled. With that decided, I lean closer to the mirror and inspect my lip. Red lipstick is nothing new for me, so I might be able to camouflage the small cut. Now that I have a plan in mind, I quickly dry off and change.

Thankfully, I don’t run into anyone on my way out of the house, and then I’m in my pale blue, Volkswagen convertible, headed to the salon. My thoughts inevitably shift to last night, and I shudder. I’m lucky Slade isn’t a serial killer, or I’d be dead right now. Though with that blood fetish of his, he might just be headed down that road.

As I slow for a red light, my lips tighten. I’m swearing off men for a while. I’ve always been prone to the hot but weird types. My history when it comes to men resembles a soap opera. Slade though, he’s the winner for the creepiest. I think I’ve finally learned my lesson. Sex is fun, but maybe random hookups isn’t the way to go. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind a real relationship if I could find a way to trust someone. I’m just not good with opening up to others. I never have been, and I tend to make light of everything so that nothing can become too serious.

I’ve reached the salon, and I pull into the employee parking lot behind the building. Great. Here goes round two.

The lipstick doesn’t completely hide the cut, and I never wear scarves. I did my best to pair the silvery gray scarf with a sequined tank and black, fitted trousers. I’d also chosen my favorite black, high-heeled booties. The outfit is similar enough to what I typically lean towards when it comes to clothing, but anyone that knows me will know the scarf is hiding something.

I brace myself for the upcoming day and slip into the salon through the back door. The salon hasn’t opened yet, and I nearly run into Ash in the hall that leads to the front room.

“There you are. I wanted to…” her voice trails off as her eyes focus on my lip, and then drop to my neck.

“Can we not talk about it here?” I ask lightly.

Her eyes are filling with questions, but she slowly nods. “Okay,” she says softly.

“I’m fine. Really,” I insist.

“We’ll talk later,” she agrees.

“What were you going to tell me?”

She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

We part ways, and I enter the main room of the salon and go to my booth. I stuff my purse in the small cubby along the wall beneath the mirror and begin preparing for the day.