“I’ll do it,” I said to the smiling Doctor Carter, who had made it clear she recognized us from our previous visit. “I want him to come home with me.”
In front of a wall of superhero-doctor pictures, Quinn stood out the brightest and the best. He didn’t have a cape on, and he had a slight concussion, but nevertheless he looked about ready to swoop me into his arms and fly me home.
“Yeah,” he said, quietly, “sign those release forms.”
“Quinn? Wake up.”
He stirred. “Huh?” Blinking, he pushed up onto his elbows and drowsily glanced at me. The glass of water I held reflected the small bedside light, refracting golden shards onto the bedspread, almost like a small star in an otherwise dark room.
“Just checking you’re well. Drink some water.”
He took the glass and sipped, sending slits of light to the ceiling. “Thanks.”
I plucked the empty glass from his grip and set it on the side table next to his frayed leather wallet and keys, angled so the light played through it more.
Face lined with tired shadows, Quinn smiled warmly and patted the bed for me to hop in.
I rounded the side, peeled back the sheets, and slithered in. It was cool against my bare skin and for a moment I considered replacing my comma-cat T-shirt with something warmer. Instead, I scuttled closer to Quinn, who had pushed himself up and was resting against the headboard.
It was warmer with our arms jammed together. In fact, Quinn’s whole man-cave was more comfortable than I’d ever have believed. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that, although his clothes lay in puddles on the floor, I knew he washed regularly. And I’d seen him vacuum. He actually lifted the clothing to clean underneath it.
I rested my head back on the wooden headboard, cocked my head, and studied him.
“Quite the night,” he said. “And I don’t know if it was the worst or the best.”
“Judging by the boil on the side of your head, I’d go with the former.” I sucked in my bottom lip as I replayed the evening. “So how did it happen?”
Quinn shook his head. “My darlin’ Shannon.” A sigh. “She called me and said her date—Jack—was a no show. At some point after that, Mitch comes up to her saying some guy swore at him that he’s a ‘fag’ in the bathrooms. That sent Shannon into Raven mode. She always goes to a party prepared. She silently followed Mitch for his protection. Only, he was bait. He led her right to the male bathrooms, where Jack had dragged Hunter out of his chair and onto the balcony.”
“At what point did you show up?”
“As she was ducking into the male bathrooms. I’ve been following her for years, backing her up and calling the police when she needs it. I was angry this time. I banged the door in and told her to stop. I told her like I’ve been trying to for a long time, that this was going to get her in trouble. She was on the edge of backing down until we turned and saw Hunter’s chair sitting there, empty. Mocking us.” He sighed. “And you know the rest.”
“I wonder why Mitch did it?”
“Blackmail would be my guess. He kept apologizing—it sounded like Jack had something on him. Though he kept repeating that he was sorry. That it hadn’t started out this way. Something about Jack threatening him at Halloween.”
I took it all in, slowly going over the information, a fraction relieved that Mitch might not have been malicious from the start. I was about to speak when Quinn shifted and said, “The night we first met. The one with Freddy . . .”
I shuddered. “You were there with her?”
“She left the party without me. I only found her once Freddy was crawling away. You asked about it after the hospital. I’m sorry I lied.”
“To protect your friend.” Honor, something I understood. I moved my leg so it met with his and I wiggled my toes on the arch of his foot. He was there. He was all right. My voice croaked as I spoke, “I was scared tonight. It seized me so tightly. I thought I wouldn’t be able to do anything. But when Jack had that gun . . .” I scratched at an invisible itch on my arm. “I’m relieved you’re okay.”
He held my gaze squarely, but there was a hiccup to his breath. “Liam?”
“Yes?”
“There’s something else I want to say. I . . . I . . .” He shut his eyes and expelled his breath slowly before reopening his eyes and feeling for my hand under the sheets. “I like how you allow yourself time to think things through. How you waited until you were sure that you wanted to make this work. Between us.”