They stopped at Walmart on the way home. Arsen purchased four pairs of pants and shirts, underwear, and when he saw her looking at them, a few basic makeup items. Quinn was obviously uncomfortable while inside, holding his arm tightly, sticking close to his side, and glancing around nervously as they moved through the store.
When they arrive back at his house, she had relaxed again, and he wondered how long it would be before she would be able to be calm around other people.
They fixed dinner together, Arsen searing pork tenderloin in Jalapeño pepper jelly, chili powder and lime, while Quinn prepared corn on the cob, seasoned with butter, garlic, and chili powder.
As they ate, she loosened up a little bit at a time. When they were alone, just the two of them, she let her guard down a little, but the only time she seemed to truly relax was here, in his house. “You did better today. I think you said, what, ten words to other people,” he teased.
She looked at her plate. “I’m sorry.”
He grinned at her. “No need to apologize. You’re doing better all the time. I know you’re trying.”
She smiled, her eyes still down. “This is the only place where I don’t hear the demons.”
“Demons?”
She nodded. “I don’t know what else to call them. The voices…the voices that make me afraid. Not real voices, not like someone talking, but…” She paused, then shrugged.
He nodded. “I know those demons.” She looked up, her brow wrinkled as her mouth twitched into a quizzical look. “I was married,” he said.
“Where is she now?”
“Dead.”
“How?”
“Murdered.” He watched as her eyes widened in surprise. “The club has a place up in Summerhaven. That’s on Mount Lemmon, about an hour from here. We were up there for the weekend and…” He let his voice trail off, not wanting to think about it. The wound was healing, but talking about it made it ache.
“How long?”
“About eighteen months.”
“Was her name Holly?”
He breathed out a single chuckle as his lips twisted. “Yeah. You heard that, huh?”
She nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, me too.” He stood up and picked up his plate. “They say time heals all wounds, and I guess it does. I don’t miss her as much now as I did, but some wounds heal slower than others.”
“Did you love her?”
“More than you can know.”
She nodded. She could see that in him. In the past couple of days, she had glimpsed the man. Strong, determined, unwilling to take a lot of shit, but also kind and gentle. She wondered what it would be like to be in love with, and be loved in return, by such a man. Holly must have been a lucky woman.
“Did they find who did it?”
“No. Whoever it was killed my mom, dad, and wife. A triple homicide. No clues, no nothing, but I have my suspicions. If I ever find proof, they’ll pay dearly.”
She stared at him. So much loss, yet even with all he had suffered, he still was able to reach out and rescue her. “What happened?”
He looked at her. The club knew the details, and the police, but he rarely talked about what had happened that afternoon. Like her, he found talking about it only made the pain worse, so he bottled it up, taking the dark mass that was his pain out occasionally to examine it, then locked it away again. The darkness was getting smaller, but slowly, so very slowly.
He began to load the dishwasher so he didn’t have to look at her. “We were in Summerhaven to celebrate Dad’s fiftieth birthday and to get out of the heat for a while. Mom and Dad, me and Holly. The cabin was low on sugar and Mom wasn’t sure there was enough for his cake, so she sent me to the store. I fucked around while I was there, shooting the shit with Winston. When I got back…” He paused as he clamped down on his emotions. “When I got back about an hour later, Dad was lying outside, Mom and Holly were inside. All three were shot in the head.” He paused again, then gave her a sad smile. “I’ve often wondered what would have happened if I’d been there. Could I have saved any of them, or would I be dead too?”
She stared at him. His eyes had gone distant as he talked, and she could tell he was once again in Summerhaven, seeing the bodies of those he cared about. “I’m so sorry.”
His eyes focused on her again. “Yeah, thanks. It was tough for a while. It’s how I ended up as President of the Blades. I was the VP at the time, and Dad was grooming me to take over from him, but I didn’t realize it would be so soon.”
“You said you know who did it?”
“I know who I think did it, but I don’t have any proof.”
“Did you tell the police?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I have no proof, and telling them what I suspected would open a can of worm I could never put back. If I find out I’m right, though, the Blades will take care of it on our own.”
He was keeping something from her; she wasn’t sure what. She dropped it. It was none of her business and she didn’t want to upset him.
“What do the Blades do?” she asked.
“What do you mean? Don’t forget your antibiotic.”
She opened the bottle and shook out two capsules, but left the pain pills. She was still hurting, but nothing like she was, and the pills made her feel loopy. “The factory. Your obviously make something. What?”
He grinned at her. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he said as she washed the pills down.
“Try me.”
“Soap.”
“Soap?”
“We make soap, bath oil beads, and bath salts.”
She stared at him a moment, blinking. “You’re serious.”
“I told you that you wouldn’t believe me.”
“That’s how the club makes its money?”
“That’s it. We make and distribute high-quality scented soaps, beads and salts, and sell them over the internet.”
She smiled at him. Arsen, and the Blacktop Blades, were just full of surprises. “If I hadn’t seen it myself, I would have never guessed.”
“What about you? You’re obviously comfortable on a bike.”
She felt her smile fading. “Yeah. I was in a club.”
“Which one?”
“Desert Riders, out of Flagstaff.”
“I’ve heard of them. They moved weed didn’t they? What happened to them? They went dark about a month ago.”
“Yeah. I was the VP’s old lady. We weren’t married, but…”
“We have a couple of members with old ladies like that. Is the reason they went dark and you were walking on the interstate related?”
Though she didn’t answer, she didn’t have to. She went pale, her pupils dilated, and she began to shake. As he watched he could see the walls going back up as she began to retreat back into her private hell.
“Hey! Hey!” he barked, snapping his fingers. “Quinn! Don’t go there, Quinn! Quinn!”
His voice, calling her name, urging her to fight against the darkness, pulled her back. She grasped his voice and pulled herself out of the darkness before it could consume her.
“That’s it, Quinn. Come on back to me. Come on, you can do it. I know what you’re going through. Come back to me.” Slowly the life came back into her eyes and her tremors lessoned as she battled her way out of her own mind. Her face twisted in the most profound expression of grief, and he stepped up to her and pulled her into his embrace.
She’d wept before, but each time it was either silent, or as she wailed in fear. Now he could hear the pain and grief pouring out of her as she was wracked with sobs, gripping his shirt in her hands as she clung to him. He held her, saying nothing, allowing her to draw what strength and comfort she could from the simple human embrace, allowing the pain to pour from her as her tears began to cleanse her soul.
They stood in the kitchen for many long moments until her sobs began to diminish, and still he held her, softly stroking her head. She finally stepped back, her eyes red and puffy, but more alive than he’d ever seen them.
She sniffed, then blew her nose on a paper towel. “I’m sorry,” she whispered as she wiped at the front of his tear stained shirt. “Your shirt is all wet.”
“It’s okay. It’s part of the healing process. If you can’t grieve, you can’t heal.”
“I’ll never heal.”
“You will. You’ve already begun. You’re talking to me. You spoke to Michelle, Toni and Zane. It takes time, but you’ll get there. I know what you’re going through.”
She shook herself. “Can we watch a movie or something so I don’t have to think?”
“Sure,” he said, starting the washer running. “What do you like?”
“Anything you want to watch is fine.”
“Get us a beer,” he ordered as he passed. “Did you like the movie last night?”
“No, not really my kind of movie, but if—”
He chuckled as he called Netflix up on the television. “I picked that because I thought you might like it. What kind of movies do you like?”
She flopped onto the couch beside him, and handed him a beer. “Anything is fine, so long as it’s not stupid. She watched as he flipped through selections. “Wait! Go back! Was that ‘Jurassic Park’? I love that movie!” Somebody else liked it too; it was ranked five stars.
He selected the title and smiled as the opening theme began to play. They sat in the darkness and spent the next 126 minutes lost in a world of dinosaurs. As the music swelled and John Hammond said, “Dr. Grant. My dear Dr. Sadler. Welcome to Jurassic Park,” Quinn leaned in close and tucked her feet up on the couch as he draped an arm comfortably over her shoulders.