Chapter Eighteen

Quinn

Even though she didn’t know it yet, I’d placed her in the position of importance in my contacts. Right underneath Nanna and Albertson. The drive to Atlanta had been uneventful. Nanna still slept thanks to the generous dose of Valium the nurse had given her before we left. I had some of the final paperwork for the real estate deal in my briefcase and needed one final signature from Ashton’s boss, Henri.

“Hello?” Ashton answered, her sexy voice slid over me like verbal silk and my body tightened in response.

“Hey, it’s me,” I said, breathing deeply. Now was not the time to get aroused while my elderly grandmother slept next to me.

“I was just talking about you,” she said. She sounded cheerful enough. “With Mrs. Betsey Jansen.”

“Really? Good things I hope?” I asked.

“My mom and I were just reminiscing about the old days.”

That comment revealed nothing about what Betsey might have divulged. My heart galloped in my chest. To pry or not to pry? “Ah, I see.”

“What’s up?” she asked. “This better be good since you’ve violated the summer fling code of ethics?”

“What?” I asked. I’d never heard of that particular code of conduct.

“Yes, Quinn Andrews,” she said with an infectious giggle. “When the lady you’ve just had a fling with tells you she needs space and not to call her, she means it.”

Had? Oh, no, woman. There was no ‘had’ in this situation. The operative words were ‘still having’. Because I wasn’t going to allow Ashton to slip through my fingers.

“I’m on my way home.”

“Home as in Destin?” she asked, an air of confusion in her voice.

“Home as in Roswell,” I clarified.

“You are?” she fired the questions at me. “You’re coming to the wedding?”

“Yep! I’m bringing Nanna with me.” I paused for a moment. “Plus I need your boss to sign an addendum to the paperwork. Albertson said it’s something that you discussed with him.”

“Well, you know where to find me.” She let out a small laugh. “Right now, I’m at the old oak table, impressed into indentured servitude to the God of attendant gifts.”

“Sounds boring so I’m glad I’m still behind the wheel.” I said, then disconnected the call.

This weekend was going to determine whether or not Ashton and I could be together. Make a difficult situation work. I hadn’t been back to Roswell since the incident over ten years ago but I still remembered that night like it was yesterday. My thoughts drifted back in time and I still felt the familiar emotions the memories evoked.

That night, after I’d taken Ashton’s virginity, I’d gone to the kitchen to fetch up something cold to drink. The party had wound down and most people had already started leaving when I poured two glasses of lemonade. I started to make my way upstairs, back to Ashton when Griffin literally ran into me, spilling the lemonade all over me and the floor.

“What the fuck, man?” I’d said, spitting the question at him like he’d plowed into me on purpose.

“What the fuck is right.” Griffin grabbed me by the collar and threw me against the wall. He had a few pounds on me but I was stronger. Plus he was a little drunk. I pushed back hard and he slipped on the sticky lemonade, busting his ass on the floor.

“What is your problem?” I asked, and held out a hand to help him up. He slapped my hand away.

He took a look around the empty kitchen before replying in a hushed whisper. “You screwed my sister? You disrespectful, arrogant motherfucker! You DO NOT fuck your best friend’s sister!”

I could feel my face redden. A flush of white hot shame. “What?”

“Don’t even fucking try to deny it, shithead. I heard you on the baby monitor, you white trash piece of shit!” Griffin jumped to his feet, still a little wobbly.

I took a step back. “Griffin, you need to listen. I really like Ashton …love here really. I think I always have and …” I stammered.

Before I could get all the words out, he took a swing at me. I ducked. I heard a sickening crack as his fist connected with the wall.

“Shit!” He yelled, clasping his hand and squealing in pain. “It’s broken.”

Hearing the commotion, a group of our friends entered the kitchen. Griffin’s girlfriend, Caroline, was one of them.

“What’s going on with you two?” she asked, her words slurred by her drunkenness.

“He fucked my sister,” Griffin pointed at me.

“Really? You and Ashton?” Caroline started to laugh. “I would’ve never guessed.”

Griffin puffed himself up and bristled. “It’s not funny, Caroline,” Griffin said. “You don’t go around fucking my sister. Not when you’re my best friend. It’s code.”

“Listen, let’s talk about this in morning when you’re sober,” I pleaded with him. Before he tried to hit me again and face-planted himself on the travertine. “I’ll explain when your head has cleared.”

“There’s nothing to explain.” Griffin pushed me again. “Get out of my house.”

“Okay, okay,” I agreed as Griffin teetered towards me again. It probably was a good idea to be out of his sight until he had a chance to process the turn of events in the morning without the haze of alcohol. “I’ll just say goodbye to Ashton and then we’ll talk tomorrow.

“You aren’t going back upstairs,” Griffin said. “I want you gone. Now!”

No way in hell. What would Ashton think if I abandoned her after her first time? After all it took to finally throw us together?

“Come on,” Caroline said, pulling me away from Griffin. Her blood red nails dug into the sensitive flesh of my arm. A haughty bitch, I’d never really liked her. Caroline tugged and scratched until I followed. “This is for the best, Quinn. I just talked to Ashton through the bathroom door and she insisted she wants to be alone. I’m not sure what you did to her but she’s done with you. Maybe you’re not as great in the sack as you think. Did she even come?”

Caroline’s laughter propelled me forward. The alcohol had numbed my brain enough that I didn’t even question her. Maybe all of us would benefit from a good night’s sleep.

We went outside and I contemplated sneaking back in so I could explain to Ashton what happened.

Caroline checked her watch and said, “Shit! I’m past curfew. Can I get a ride home?”

“Sure,” I answered, but my stomach sank to my knees. The last thing I wanted was to be alone in my vehicle with her and her judgmental bullshit. “Get in.”

As I drove toward Caroline’s house, we passed a couple of police cars on the road to the Jansen’s. Caroline remarked, “I hope they aren’t going to bust up the party. That would suck.”

As soon as she said that one of the cop cars pulled a U-turn in the middle of the street and followed us. I hadn’t had that much to drink. Would I blow over? Nausea bubbled up the back of my throat and my sweaty palms gripped the leather wrapped steering wheel.

It’s okay, Quinn. Just keep it between the lines. At the speed limit. Your tabs are renewed. There’s no reason for him to pull you over and road test you.

A couple minutes later, the cop hit his lights.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Crap,” Caroline said with a breathy giggle. “I thought you were okay to drive. I guess it sucks to be you. Oh, how the mighty have fallen tonight. Quarterback on a full ride scholarship to Ohio, fucking your best friend’s virgin sister. Maybe you’re not so important after all.”

“I only had a couple of beers,” I said, more to myself than to Caroline. She’d been dismissed. I wished I could open the passenger door and toss her out onto the grassy boulevard.

After I safely pulled over, the office approached my Jeep from behind. He flashed a bright light inside the cab and I placed my palm on my forehead in a futile attempt to shield my sensitive eyes from the blinding light. Caroline let out another tipsy giggle. Definitely not helping.

“License and registration, please.”

I reached over past Caroline and opened the glove compartment. Snapping it open, I rummaged around inside until I could hand the cop the documents.

“Have you been drinking tonight young man?” he asked.

“No sir.”

“I’ll be right back.”

As we waited, Caroline started to freak out. “What if knows that I was drinking? If I get another minor consumption, I’ll go to jail. My parents will kill me.”

“Calm down,” I snapped. Her presence was only making everything worse. Just like it always did. Sure she was hot with a killer body but she didn’t have anything else going for. I’d never know why Griffin had gone there. Not when the most perfect girl in the entire world lived two bedroom doors down as a role mode. “Caroline, nothing is going to happen.”

The cop returned after a couple of minutes. “I need you both to step out of the car, please.”

“Why?” I asked. “We haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Just get out of the car.”

Caroline tumbled out of the passenger seat and wobbled before she righted herself. I waited for her on the cement curb. “Are you sure you haven’t been drinking?”

I shook my head no, sticking with my lie, certain I could pass the field sobriety test and the breath-o-lizer. Caroline started to cry.

“What about drugs?” he asked, shining the flashlight in the back seat. “Marijuana? Do you have any illegal substances on you?”

“No!” I said.

“Then you won’t mind if I search your car?” he asked.

“Go ahead,” I said, puffed up with confidence. I’d never be stupid enough to have pot in the vehicle. “You won’t find anything.”

Now, snapping back to the present, I wished I hadn’t let my smart-ass teenage ass be so cocky. Fast forward ten years later and I realized what a mistake leaving the Jansen house had been. I should have stayed and dealt with Griffin. Talked to Ashton to work things through. I’d allowed Caroline to bait me into leaving. I often wondered if she’d masterminded the entire thing. Griffin had seemed too drunk to pull off a revenge scheme so diabolical.

I realized when I’d gone through criminal law, that I should’ve never given that cop verbal permission to search my car. He’d led me into a deliberate violation of my rights. But how in the world would I have known that my best friend planted weed in my car and then called 9-1-1?

When the cop found the stash, he immediately cuffed me and shoved me by my head into the back of the squad. I nearly pissed my pants. Although Caroline was obviously underage and drunk, she only got a reprimand from the police as they called her parents to come pick her up. She got lucky that they hadn’t even run her license through the database. If they had, we’d have been cellmates.

But only I went to jail.

Since my dad golfed in a Tuesday evening league with the police chief, I didn’t get treated like a common thug. After stewing in a holding cell for four hours I was let go. The arrest and my short jail stint were erased from my record after my high priced attorney threatened to countersue for obstruction of justice and violation of my fourth amendment rights. In return, I promised to go to Destin for the summer and live with my grandparents. Leaving Ashton in my rear view. And I’d never forgiven myself.

It wasn’t until I’d graduated from college and headed east to law school, that I told my parents the truth about the weed. Only shock registered, when my dad had admitted that they’d suspected as much when my relationship with Griffin swirled down the toilet bowl.

Anger simmered at my parents for days after. Why hadn’t they supported me? Defended me? No. They’d just sent me away and out of their sight because I’d embarrassed them in front of their high-class friends. Now, in hindsight, I’d been better off with Nanna and Papa who loved my unconditionally. The only regret that rose from the ash of that night was Ashton.

I never wanted to go back to Roswell after my parents sold me down the river. I liked living at the beach during my summer breaks from college. I enjoyed spending time with my grandparents, learning about my history, eating Nanna’s delicious homemade baked goods, and basking in the glow of their love for me. And when Nanna got sick after my grandfather died, I realized I was meant to stay there and take care of her.