CHAPTER 20:
JUNIPER
Quinton. Here. In the flesh.
I was in the middle of a conversation with Owen. We were debating about something trivial when I glanced across the crowded bar. I couldn’t help it, my eyes kept automatically seeking out Ben. He and Nathanial sat next to one another at the bar, deep in their own conversation. Singing in front of people was never going to be easy for me, and I was anxiously waiting on the clock. Only a couple more minutes until it was time to begin. Having Ben not far helped calm my nerves, if only slightly. I wanted to get his attention one more time, though, before I had to begin. Part of me was always craving just one more look or moment from him, but he wasn’t looking my way. And that was when I noticed the man sitting on Ben’s other side. Quinton.
His green eyes were dead locked on mine.
A very small, very sadistic smile, one I’d seen many times before, touched his lips as we made eye-contact.
Once, as a young girl, I’d been swinging too high on the swings. It had started to rain, but still I swung, desperate for a few more minutes of fun before I had to go home. When suddenly I lost my grip on the chains and fell several feet through the air, landing flat on my back in the mulch below. The air left my lungs, and for a couple scary moments I couldn’t breathe in or out. That was what seeing Quinton felt like. The inability to breathe. The inability to think. The inability to move.
I stood onstage completely paralyzed.
How had he found me? I’d been nothing but careful. More importantly—why the fuck was he sitting next to Ben? A split second later, he answered my question as he adjusted his body on his seat. The moment he did so, he let his suit jacket fall open for a fraction of a second, just enough time to expose the gun he held—pointed directly to his left and at Ben.
And suddenly I was at Quinton's mercy.
Outside, he mouthed.
If I listened and went outside, I'd be putting myself in danger. But if he somehow hurt Ben, I'd never be able to forgive myself.
“You should go outside,” Owen said, suddenly speaking up from beside me. “He only wants a chance to talk.”
“What did you say?” I turned to Owen—skinny, nerdy, innocent, unsuspecting Owen.
“He knows where you live.” Owen moved closer, his nose uncomfortably close to my nose. A nasty side I'd never seen emerged as he glared at me. “He knows where Ben works, where Rose goes to school, that Georgina is his sister and that she's pregnant. He knows everything about you and about Ben. If he doesn't get his chance to talk with you tonight then tomorrow he starts hurting the people you care about.”
“How could you, Owen?” I whispered. I was beyond stunned, but mostly appalled.
“I have my reasons. Now outside,” he growled in a low tone. “Or I give Quinton the signal that you're unwilling to corporate.”
I glanced to where Quinton was sitting. But he was gone from his spot beside Ben. He could be anywhere now. Ben and Nathanial were still talking, they'd noticed nothing.
It all came down to the fact that I couldn't risk Ben's life, or Georgina's, or Ellie's, or anyone's in this bar. Quinton was here because of my mistakes. He was my problem to deal with. I had to face him. I had to tell him the truth. I had to hope that we could speak like rational adults.
“Okay,” I said as I followed Owen off stage. My stomach churned with every step. I was not ready to face Quinton. But I knew, deep down, no matter what, he wouldn't hurt me while I was carrying his children. I had to believe that.
The outside air felt thick and heavy. The buzzing of insects, the muffled beat of the bar’s music, and the laughs of a few people lingering somewhere in the parking lot filled my ears. Owen led me amongst the cars, many of them double parked, and some parked in dirt and sand—as the parking lot couldn’t accommodate the number of patrons here for tonight’s show. He led me straight to Quinton.
I stopped walking at the sight of my ex, keeping several feet between us.
“Juniper,” he purred, his voice as soothing and suave as ever. “You’re looking…fun tonight. Trying out a singing career, are we?” He flicked his hand, like he was shooing off an insect, in a gesture meant for Owen. “Go,” he told him. “I’ll deposit the second portion of your money into the account you gave me tomorrow.”
Owen didn’t wait around. He quickly backed away and left us.
Part of me almost expected Quinton to explode with anger or yelling, even though he’d never been much of a yeller, but he continued to remain calm. I guess he didn’t have to yell. A calm Quinton terrified me just the same as an irate one.
“I have one question for you June—have you let him fuck you?” He spoke matter-of-factly but lingered on the word him as if Ben were the vilest person alive. “Have you let him touch you the way I once touched you? Let him feel you from the inside? Let him spread his seed inside you?”
I swallowed hard, an icy shiver running through me. Quinton always picked his words carefully. And just like the way his hands used to feel on my throat, his words had a similar effect. “Yes. I have.”
“While pregnant with my children?” he added. “Owen told me you have twins growing inside you. My twins. My twins tainted by another man. You disappoint me. You know what happens when you disappoint me.”
“I’m not yours to disappoint anymore,” I told him as confidently as I could manage. Even after all this time, he still had such an easy way of frightening me. But I’d grown in the time since I’d left him. I was stronger now.
Hold your own, I told myself.
“I’m his. I love him now,” I said. “So, yes, he gets to touch me and spread his ‘seed’ in me any way he likes. And the twins aren’t yours. They’re his.”
Quinton’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t lie to me. I know they’re mine.” He let out a low hiss. “And don’t backtalk me ever again.” He reached in his pocket, momentarily making me freeze as I thought perhaps he was about to pull out the gun I saw earlier. But he pulled out a cellphone instead. I might have been less terrified by such a harmless electronic device, but he flashed the screen in my direction. On it there was a picture of a young girl—
Rose. Ben’s youngest sister.
“Does this little girl look familiar?” he asked.
“What do you want?” I demanded. “I’ve left you. It’s over. What does Ben’s little sister have to do with us? Nothing. She’s innocent—”
“Stop talking,” he hissed. “And get in my fucking car.” He pointed to the car door right beside where he stood. “Or this little girl will be the first person I hurt. Owen isn’t the only idiot I’ve paid to do my bidding in the town. It doesn’t take much money to get people to do what you want. I’ve been watching you for weeks. I know all your friends. Rhett, Noah, Sydney—I could go on and on. I know their friends even. And their family. House addresses. Favorite TV shows. You name it, I know it. And this little girl right here—” He held up his phone with her picture one more time. “—will be the person I hurt first if you don’t get in the car.”
Did I have a choice?
I got in his car.