Friendly Fire (Ricochet 2)

“You do too, Mar. How’s Clint?”

Mara’s cat-like green eyes twinkled with mischief. “Oh, you know. He’s great.”

Quinn laughed at Mara’s lust filled expression. “You can’t talk about your husband without your mind going straight to his crotch, can you Mara?”

Mara pursed her lips, pretending to think about it for a minute. “Nope. It’s pretty spectacular.” She lifted her glass and took a big sip of her drink.

“That looks good, I need one.” Quinn gestured towards Mara’s glass.

Mara flagged down the waiter and ordered a margarita for Quinn. Once Quinn’s drink was delivered, Mara raised an eyebrow at her friend.

“So, what’s up girl? What happened between you and Rick? Obviously something went down, because the boy has been messed up ever since you up and pulled a Houdini.” Mara leaned across the table, her eyes fixed on Quinn.

“Well,” Quinn shifted uncomfortably, “first he uh… he kind of spied on me while I went on that date with the bartender, Chase.”

Mara frowned. “What do you mean he spied on you?” Her indignation would have been hilarious had Quinn actually been on speaking terms with Rick.

Quinn huffed loudly. “I mean, he was sitting in his car, watching Chase drop me off after our date. Then he knocked on my door right after Chase left and insisted he wasn’t going to let me go out with other men without letting me know he was interested.”

Mara’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Rick did that? Our Rick? From Sanctum? He made this big declaration and demanded that you give him a chance?”

“Yes.”

“Holy shit.” She fell back in her chair. “That’s just about the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.” Mara’s face went all gooey and starry-eyed.

Quinn couldn’t help but melt a little at the memory. “Yeah, I know, it was. So then he kissed me and—”

“He what?” Mara squealed, bouncing up and down. “And you…?” Quinn squirmed under her intense scrutiny, wincing when Mara pointed and screamed. “Holy crap, you did it with him!”

“Shhhhh,” Quinn admonished her loud friend, glancing around to be sure no one heard her outburst. “Yes… I did.” Mara’s eyes practically bugged out of her head. “But then I sort of had a major freak out in the middle of the night and left him lying there alone in my bed with no explanation… for six weeks.” Quinn shrank as she confessed to her midnight escape.

Mara blinked rapidly, finally sitting still, stunned. Then she leaned forward and threw up her hand as if to say stop. “Wait. Rick made this romantic declaration, which by the way, he never does, you have what I assume was unbelievable, mind-blowing sex…” Quinn nodded when Mara paused for her to answer. “He spent the night at your place, which he also never does, and the result is that you skipped out of town on him with no word for six weeks?”

Quinn could feel her face heating up with the shame of having her actions replayed for her. She dropped her gaze to the table. “Yes.”

To Quinn’s surprise, Mara started laughing. Snorty, teary, ugly, cackling-type laughing. Quinn’s brow wrinkled as she stared at her friend open-mouthed until Mara could get a hold of herself.

“Mara! It’s not funny!” Quinn felt like kicking her under the table.

“No, it really is Quinn,” Mara said, gasping for breath and trying to wipe the tears from her eyes with her napkin. “I mean, it’s not, but it sooo is. If you knew how many times Rick has done that to women. Hell, that’s why he’s called Ricochet. Fuck, it’s just too ironic. The karma of it all.” Mara took a big sip of her drink, tears still running down her face from her hysterics.

Quinn felt herself gearing up to defend Rick. “No, Mara! It’s not! I left because I’m fucked up! Broken! My ex-husband screwed me up so badly that I don’t trust men. I threw Rick away because I’m a coward!”

“Ex-husband? You were married?” Mara practically fell off of her chair.

Quinn couldn’t meet Mara’s probing stare. “Technically, I’m still married— that’s what the lawyer is for,” she mumbled.

“Quinn!”

She threw up her hands. “I know, Mara! I know! Okay? I’m a liar and a terrible person! But, if you knew what he did to me—” her words caught in her throat, “how he treated me, you’d understand.” She held in a sob as her voice cracked.

Mara slid her hand across the table to cover Quinn’s. “So make me understand.”

Quinn told Mara everything. Things she never confided in anyone except for the therapists at the various women’s shelters— how she left home to get away from her father who was angry at his early retirement, how she met Travis her sophomore year at Texas A&M when he was a campus security guard, how he encouraged her to drop out to marry him and immediately turned into an abusive jerk, moved her to the middle of nowhere and isolated her from everyone and everything she knew. All of it poured out of Quinn as if she were unburdening her soul in confession.

“Jesus, Quinn. I can’t believe you lived like that for as long as you did.” Mara’s brows pulled together, her normally happy mouth turned down in the corners.

Quinn’s shoulders slumped, her head hanging, “I’m so embarrassed, Mar. I’m a reasonably intelligent person, I should have seen it, should have known Travis was like that before I married him.”