by Tia Fielding
He stared out the dark window into the back yard for a moment and then leaned back and lay on the mattress.
What was it Quinn had said last night?
“I know you wouldn’t sleep in the downstairs bedroom. But get a frame for this mattress, Aaron. Even I can’t get up from here easily.”
Aaron hadn’t thought he’d sleep here too, but it was just an empty room.
An empty room with a decent mattress that he wouldn’t have to fight to get up from every morning. And—not like he was going to see Quinn again or speak to him—Aaron liked the idea of subverting Quinn’s expectations of him.
He’d sleep here if he wanted.
Not tonight though, because there were no sheets that fit the mattress. Tomorrow he might go buy some, if he still liked the idea. Okay, so maybe he was never going to like the idea, but the thought of not having to climb the stairs every night—and come back down them whenever he needed a piss—was pretty tempting.
Aaron lay on the bed, his good foot still on the floor, wondering if this counted as progress.
Probably, but progress towards what, he had no fucking idea.
He fell asleep watching an insect crawl across the ceiling.
Chapter 9
Nothing ever changes in Spruce Creek and that means it’s safe for everyone. That’s what Quinn’s grandpa had always said. Quinn didn’t remember much about him, but he remembered those words. The fact that the beginning of the sentence was actually “As long as there’s a MacGregor running the town” felt oddly ominous right now.
Last night, during dinner, Ian and Karen had talked about the good old days. They’d talked about family and how things had changed in their line of business. In general terms, of course, because Karen didn’t allow shop talk at the dinner table, but still.
Quinn’s grandpa had believed in the good old boy type of career criminals. He’d believed that some people just were born into that life and that was it for them. There were no options.
That was why Quinn, knowing he wasn’t straight and probably not even bi, really, had been relieved when his mom told him they were leaving town. He’d felt guilty as fuck because of why they were leaving, of course, but also relieved.
That’s why his feelings for Aaron were throwing him off. He wanted Aaron so much it hurt. Still. Even after a decade.
Quinn frowned at his mug of coffee. The bell above the diner door dinged and someone walked in. The scent of weed drifted to him, and he wrinkled his nose. He didn’t like weed much, it was easy to not have that particular craving, luckily. In a state where the stuff was legal, the scent could hit him anywhere.
The guy turned a bit as he waited for his coffee at the counter. Quinn took in the scruffy look and the oddly familiar way he carried himself.
“Brody?” he blurted out.
The guy squinted at him, then the familiar, ever present smile spread on his face and he abandoned his post in favor of coming to pull Quinn out of his seat and into a hug.
“Quinn MacGregor! I heard you were in town!” The backslapping was epic and very stoner bro, and something about it almost made Quinn’s eyes well up with tears. “It’s so good to see you, man!”
“You too,” Quinn managed to say, then swallowed his sudden emotions and nodded his head toward the counter. “You busy? Wanna catch up?”
“No, just thought I’d grab it and go back to the ‘yard, you know.” He made eye contact with the older woman that was working instead of Charlie today, and she nodded at him. Brody slid into the booth and beamed at Quinn.
“Good to see you’re doing well,” Quinn said, smiling back at him.
“Yeah, it is what it is, yanno,” he replied, and for a moment Quinn could see a teenaged Brody sitting under a tree in the park and gesturing with a joint between his fingers. “Took over the junkyard when Dad passed and that’s about it. I don’t need much.”
“Just some decent porn and really good weed,” Quinn said, filling in the rest of the sentence Brody had used back in the day.
Brody threw his head back and cackled with delight. The waitress came by with his coffee and asked if Quinn wanted anything else.
“Nah, I’m good. Thanks.”
She gave him a tight smile and left. Not a fan of the MacGregors, then.
“So, on the scale of one to ten with ten being nuclear, how bad is Jimmy going to fuck up this town?” Brody asked, then took a sip of his coffee.
A laugh burst out of Quinn’s mouth. Brody clearly still didn’t beat around the bush.
“Honestly, I don’t know. I wish it was like three, but it might be eight,” he said quietly, more seriously.
“Yeah, see, the year before last, he got permission from Ian to build a warehouse for his own businesses on that lot across the road from the junkyard. It’s…interesting.” Brody’s eyes were sharper then than they’d been only moments ago.
“Oh?” Quinn finished his own too-cold drink and grimaced at the taste. He should’ve gotten a shake or something just to have something to do with his hands.
“He’s clearly planning something. Showing up at night, sometimes cars I don’t recognize come by, that sort of thing.” Brody shrugged and gave him a lopsided little grin.
“Wait…you’re not staying at the loft?”
“Eh, I might be living there, actually.”
Quinn did a dramatic double take for fun. “Dude, you’re living in the fucking horrible metal hall? Above the office? What the fuck?”
“Yeah, see, at first it was just a place to stay when I sorted out all the shit after Dad died.” Brody’s expression grew soft and sad, but then he smiled again. “But then my girlfriend sort of kicked me out and yeah, I’ve been living there for now. It’s fine, I’ve a space heater and it’s quiet there.” He drank some more coffee and then grinned knowingly. “Unless your cousin has company in the night.”
Quinn nodded slowly. “Well, if you wanna give me your number…”
“Sure, man. Anything. I saw Aaron and he sort of reminded me of the good old days, right?” He put his number into Quinn’s phone and sent himself a message before giving the phone back.
“I appreciate it,” Quinn said quietly.
“Look, I don’t know why you’re here, really, but I know you don’t want the job after your uncle. So if I can help whatever it is you’re here to do, let me know, okay?”
Quinn swallowed and hid every single emotion coursing through right then. “Thanks, man.”
Brody nodded as if that was that, and then launched into telling Quinn about some guy who had sold him a sweet ride a while back and it felt like the old days. Quinn settled in and once again, soaked in the echoes of an old friendship.
* * * *
Quinn drove to Jimmy’s house, the house Quinn had grown up in. It was almost exactly between Karen and Ian’s place and Jimmy’s warehouse on the edge of town. Seeing the house as it was now weird. It sported a new, different color paint and even new windows, making it look nothing like the house where Robert had ruled first the household, then the whole town.
He needed to set some things straight with his cousin and he didn’t really want to do it in public. He knew Jimmy had his own crew, partially, but they all fell under the MacGregor umbrella. It was just that most of Ian’s guys had been Robert’s first, and they were starting to get older. Jimmy’s crew was his and Quinn’s age group; some of them had gone to school with them, too.
It felt weird to think that.
In his childhood, the whole thing hadn’t felt real. Sure, people talked about his family, but as a kid, you had to go with the flow. As soon as he and Jimmy were teenagers, the men in the family started to talk to them about the business. Not much, but some things here and there.
Jimmy had loved it, of course. Quinn had been wary. He didn’t like the pain and suffering crime caused, and while he did his best to not see what the MacGregors did as black and white, he’d started to resent his father by the time he turned fifteen.
He
got out of the car and went to knock on Jimmy’s door.
The brunette who opened was the same one from the street the previous day. Digging through his memory, Quinn said “Caroline, right?” and smiled at her.
She gave him a cautious smile and nodded. “You’re Jimmy’s cousin Quinn. Come on in.”
“Thank you. Here, I got this for him. If I’d known you were here, I would’ve brought a bottle of wine instead.” Quinn gave her the bottle of scotch.
“That’s alright, I don’t live here—” her voice implied a heavy yet, “—but I’ll put this away for you. Jimmy is taking a call, he should be out soon. Go take a seat in the living room.”
“Thanks.” Quinn looked around as he went to find a seat he’d feel comfortable sitting in.
The house was furnished with stuff that you couldn’t find anywhere near Spruce Creek. It was high end, not super expensive, but certainly nothing Karen could’ve justified having in her house and certainly nothing like the stuff his mom had once chosen for their family home. He didn’t have time to sit before he heard steps from the back of the house.
“Honey, who—oh, it’s you,” Jimmy said, stopping at the middle of the floor. His gaze narrowed. “You carrying?”
“Does it matter?”
Jimmy thought for a moment. “I’m not sure yet.”
“Well in that case, I only have my knife on me, because I couldn’t be fucked with the ankle holster.”
Jimmy grinned just a little. “Fancy. Sit.” He gestured at the couch nearby, and took the other end of it.
Quinn sat and relaxed, because he knew how he needed to look right now. Tensing up would be bad and he couldn’t start with that.
“So, I decided to come by to talk about some stuff,” he started.
Caroline stepped into the room. “Your cousin brought you a nice bottle of scotch, Jimmy. I put it in the cabinet in the kitchen.”
“Thanks, hun. Are you going home soon?” Jimmy made the words more of a suggestion than a question.
“I thought I was staying the night since I have tomorrow off,” she said slowly and pointedly. “So I’ll go upstairs and leave you boys to it.” Her smile was sharp and full of teeth, and Quinn immediately knew that she would make the perfect wife for someone like Jimmy.
“Good night,” Quinn said, smiling at her.
“I’ll be up later,” Jimmy said and concentrated on Quinn again. “You were saying?”
Caroline huffed softly and left the room.
“I wanted to say that I don’t want it,” Quinn said simply. Whether Jimmy believed him or not, well, that was up to Jimmy, wasn’t it?
Jimmy gave him an incredulous smirk. “You just happen to be in town when my dad might keel over at whenever?”
“Jesus, Jimmy.” Quinn knew he looked disgusted. “That’s my uncle, you know. The only fucking proper father figure I’ve ever had.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Jimmy looked away. “In some ways, we got the wrong dads, didn’t we?”
That pissed Quinn off a bit, even if he’d thought the same thing himself. “You still have yours for now.”
Jimmy snorted bitterly. “He doesn’t trust me. I’m too much like Robert.”
“He trusts you. Unless you give him a reason not to.” Quinn watched Jimmy and saw a small tic. It wasn’t much, but it was something. “I heard a rumor.”
That made Jimmy laugh. He leveled Quinn with a disbelieving gaze. “Did you now? And what was that?” he asked, as he leaned to the side and pulled some sort of a kit out of the nearby end table’s drawer.
Quinn swallowed hard and ignored the way Jimmy put the battered tin on the coffee table, took out a mirror, and expertly tapped a pile of coke on top of it from a baggie.
“There’s a word out that Burned Skulls are looking for a business partner around these parts.”
Jimmy chuckled low and dark. Then he chopped up the coke with a razorblade he’d gotten out of the tin and divided it into three neat lines.
He grabbed a rolled up bill from the box and held it to Quinn. “You want a line?”
And this was it. The moment where Quinn could snort the coke, get his cousin’s trust, and maybe, just maybe make a difference in the future decisions of the MacGregor family. If he just threw away his sobriety and…he wanted to. He really fucking wanted to. He couldn’t take his eyes off the bill.
It took everything he had to lift his gaze from it to look at Jimmy.
“Come on, cuz. You really gonna do me like that? You know I just got out of rehab.”
To his surprise, Jimmy actually looked ashamed. It was a rule that you didn’t shit where you ate and doing drugs, at least a lot of them, got you a bad rep in the family. Even if you were Ian’s son.
“Yeah, okay.” Jimmy snorted two of the lines and put the third one back into the baggie with the grace of someone who was used to this shit. Quinn should know.
“It doesn’t matter what the Skulls want,” Jimmy said once the tin was closed and he’d leaned back again. “Dad won’t do business with them and neither did Robert.”
It was obvious Jimmy had more to say but held back.
“Well, let me know if there’s anything I can do,” Quinn forced himself to say. “You guys are my family. I don’t want the clan, but I’ll be in town for a while, so…”
“Honey? Are you coming to bed soon?” Caroline called from the upstairs landing.
Jimmy’s grin was more of a smirk, and Quinn hid his mild disgust at the expression. Coked up and horny wasn’t something he wanted to see. Not in the mirror and not on his cousin’s face.
“Okay, I’ll go. Talk to you later man,” Quinn said and got off the couch.
Jimmy followed suit. They man-hugged, and for just a few seconds, Quinn’s attention locked into the tin on the coffee table. He shook it off and said his byes, calling out to Caroline as well. Then he tried to keep his speed steady as he walked out and to his car.
* * * *
Fifteen minutes later, he stopped driving at the crossroads to the trailer park. There was a wider part of the road there, and he parked there and got out.
Then he struggled out of the ankle holster and tossed it onto the seat before locking the car behind himself. It was getting late, again. Grimacing, he jogged over to Main Street and up the ramp to Aaron’s front door.
This time, the answer came faster.
Aaron, looking a bit mussed like he’d been in bed but not asleep, stared at him and sighed.
“Aaron, please. I….” He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t go to his trailer right then.
Suddenly a tiny black form dashed inside through Aaron’s feet, making them both jump.
“That damn cat,” Aaron grunted.
“Shadow. Apparently she’s everyone’s cat around here.”
“Yours too?” Aaron asked like it mattered somehow.
“She’s slept next to my pillow each night I’ve been here.”
Aaron backed away and let Quinn inside.
The living room looked a mess, so Quinn stood in the tiny hall between it and the kitchen, waiting for a cue from Aaron.
“Come on.” Aaron walked past him in that slightly awkward way Quinn had barely noticed the other night.
He followed Aaron to the downstairs bedroom and didn’t manage to hide his smile before Aaron looked at him.
“What?” Aaron snapped.
“That’ll show me. You sleeping more comfortably and all.”
Both of their lips twitched, and they burst out laughing.
“Fucking asshole,” Aaron wheezed and sat down on the bed that he’d clearly been using.
Quinn lifted his hands. “Guilty as charged.”
“Why are you here, Quinn?” Aaron asked quietly, his blue eyes serious again.
“Jimmy offered me coke tonight.”
Aaron tensed. He bit on his lower lip and then seemed to force the question out. “Did you take it?”
Quinn shook his head. “It was a test. Loyalty. I got away fr
om it. Managed to make him feel guilty about asking. I just…” He looked away.
“Didn’t feel like being alone with those thoughts,” Aaron said quietly, in a tone that suggested he knew what he was talking about.
Quinn had noticed the bottles and the smell of old booze hanging around the house. It was a bit less now, but he hated the idea of Aaron self-medicating with alcohol. The scent of weed was present, and he could make an educated guess where it had come from.
“Look, we’re different people now. The chemistry is still there. I don’t want—no, actually, I do want to fuck you, but that’s not why I’m here right now.”
“Go take a shower. I just put fresh sheets in.”
While Quinn got undressed to his underwear, Aaron handled the prosthetic, taking it off and putting it where he could easily reach it when needed.
“Use my towel, I’m not sure if I have extras.”
“Okay.”
The whole time Quinn spent in the shower, his brain and dick had a battle going on. On one hand, he wanted to just sleep next to someone safe. He needed that person to be Aaron for reasons he didn’t want to think about.
But he was also horny after the whole emotional upheaval and his body craved a hit. It didn’t have to be drugs, it could be Aaron instead. He wanted to put his brain on a back burner and let his instincts take over. He wanted to map Aaron’s body, learn it again.
When he dried his body with Aaron’s towel, he wondered what to do with his semi. In the end, he walked out naked, not bothering to hide his dick.
“Can I borrow some underwear?” he asked, and Aaron turned his head away, flushing red as if he’d been staring the few seconds Quinn had faced him.
He pointed at where to find some boxers and Quinn pulled them on, then went around the bed to climb in. He needed to let Aaron drive. It struck him that he really needed Aaron to make all the decisions. So he just settled down and looked at the man next to him. His fingers twitched between their pillows. And then he waited.
