Quinn

by Doyle, Dawn

  Kinny.

  I stepped back from my father and lifted my head, catching her streaming eyes. I smiled, and nodded once, letting her know it was going to be over soon, and her hands flew to her mouth.

  I watched her trembling lips move as she mouthed, “Make him suffer.” I let my eyes slip from hers to the bastard rolling over and getting to his feet.

  Every movement was carefully thought out, I could tell. His back to me, knowing too well I'd never attack from behind like he did. I wasn’t a fucking coward. I’d given him long enough, and playtime was over.

  Roy spun around, his arm flying through the air as he did, his roar going with it.

  As fast as he’d come at me, I gripped his wrist with my left hand, his eyes flying wide with understanding as I dragged him across my body, turning with him and pulling his arm over my shoulder. I yanked his arm down with a sudden jolt, his straightened elbow connecting with my shoulder, and I lifted upward on my toes, the sound of the joint separating, cracking, the bone giving way in multiple places under the pressure.

  All I heard were his screams of agony, his feet shuffling back as he fought against my hold, his pain rising above even the loudest cheer in the crowd.

  Releasing his sweat-soaked wrist, I turned, bending my elbow, raising my fist, and ramming it into the side of his face, his expression distorting, his skin expanding until his cheekbone pierced the surface. He fell against the barrier, but I wasn’t ready to let him take another fucking breath without feeling my wrath. I gripped his arm and yanked him back, the other falling loosely at his side, limp, unable to even move his fingers.

  My hand flew forward, my fingers around his throat, and I squeezed, watching fear fill his disoriented vision, and I let loose on him, raining blow after blow, remembering all the times he’d wailed on my mom, beating her into a corner and only stopping when he was tired. What he’d done to me had left my mind, and all I saw was her, crying, pleading, bleeding... Defeated.

  My father’s face was no longer visible, only redness over something that barely resembled a human form, wheezing and gasping for air, my fingers slowly crushing his esophagus.

  “Quinn!” Kinsley screamed near me. “Baby, stop!”

  I heard her, her voice breaking through when the rest of the room had disappeared, her tone reaching me in the depths of my anger and desire for vengeance.

  I released my grip, and Roy fell down in a heap, crimson spilling out of him in a puddle around his head.

  “Just kill me,” he gurgled through the flow. “End me. I know you want to, so do it.”

  “Quinn,” Kinsley said, standing in front of me behind the barrier, her eyes trained on me. “Stay with me, baby, okay?” She reached over, and I stroked her fingertips, my heart pounding for her and nothing else.

  Not the fight, not Roy, and not getting revenge. Just her.

  “I’m not going anywhere, Kinny baby,” I said, and winked, loving how she smiled in return, her face lighting up in happiness.

  Kinsley’s gaze darted down, her mouth dropping open, and that’s when I saw it. A flash of metal, an arm jutting out, aiming right at me.

  I lifted my foot before Roy could stab me, his concealed weapon nicking my thigh as I twisted away just in time, the blade slicing through the top layers of my skin. It stung like a bitch, heat already seeping from the wound.

  I stamped on his arm and lifted my other foot, then drove it down to his thigh, feeling the femur collapse beneath my sole.

  “Naughty, naughty,” I snapped, leaning down at the man who’s only sounds were howls of pain, both arms were broken as well as his leg. “Bringing a knife to a fistfight, huh? You always were, and always will be, a fucking disgrace.”

  I stood back while the onlookers got a good look at the discarded switchblade lying in Roy’s outstretched hand. I dabbed my fingers against my thigh, feeling the two-inch cut there that could’ve killed me if Kinsley hadn’t noticed.

  “Get him the fuck out of here!” I yelled.

  As my clean-up crew swarmed the circle, another person rushed me, and I welcomed them with open arms.

  “You scared the shit out of me!” she cried into my neck, her arms crushing me around my shoulders. “He was just hitting you and hitting you.”

  “It’s okay,” I assured her, closing my eyes and absorbing the warmth from her body, her racing heart, her shaky sobs as she held onto me. “There was no way he was going to beat me. Not again, not ever.”

  She pulled back, her eyes searching mine.

  “Do you honestly think that piece of shit would’ve gotten anywhere near him without him wanting him to?” Josh asked her as he approached. “I tried to tell her, Quinn, but she wouldn’t listen.” He rubbed his jaw along the purple mark there. “And remind me never again to make her mad. Damn right hook is lethal.”

  Layton nodded while cupping his junk. “Yeah, I kinda feel sorry for Colby. I got a crack to the balls, man. Dropped me to the floor like a sack of shit.”

  I shook my head, the pain starting to throb now that the shit was over. “Let’s get out of here.” I took Kinsley’s hand and turned around, but her fingers slipped from my grasp. “What are you doing?” She walked over to the clean-up guys and stopped them from leaving.

  Without saying a word, she stood in front of Roy and looked at him, pure, unadulterated disgust showed on her downturned mouth. Her lips pursed and she jutted her chin forward, saliva flying from her mouth. Her spit dripped down the mangled face of my father, mixing with the blood oozing from his injuries. “I hope you rot in hell,” she growled. With one last glare, she turned to me and wrapped her arm around my waist. “Let’s go clean you up.”

  Kinsley

  Brutal, ferocious, savage… Merciless.

  All the words running through my head couldn’t describe what I’d witnessed in the barn. I’d had no idea of Quinn’s plans, and it was a good job because I would’ve been against it from the get-go. How the hell could I agree to him letting himself get beat up, purposefully not defending himself, allowing that man, that monster…?

  I closed my eyes and ground my fists against my thighs, the play-by-play of Quinn taking each punch and kick with ease like he’d been expecting them... Like he was used to them.

  Only, he was—he had been, and not just from fighting in the circle, but from the man that was supposed to have sheltered him from the violence that’d been inflicted upon him.

  I’d fought against his friends, and also against some people pushing me back, not wanting me to stop the fight. I could see their hungry faces in my head, their excited expressions when another blow was delivered when Quinn took another hit.

  I also recognized those of the people from campus, my art professor, some guys from the beach, Miley, Jojo, and the last person I wanted to see. Phoebe.

  I didn’t give them any of my attention. All I had was for Quinn, making sure he was safe, to get that bastard off of him, so when he smiled at me, I paused, something telling me it was fine and not to worry. I wanted Roy to suffer, and when I said those words to Quinn, he did that and more.

  It was when I saw Roy pull that fucking blade from the torn waistband of his shorts that my world had spun, the light glinting off of the metal, instinct telling me he didn’t have it to just hurt Quinn.

  I swallowed down the bile rising to my throat at the thought.

  “Hey, Kinny, are you okay?” Quinn asked, breaking my thoughts.

  I tilted my head back and stared up into his deep blue eyes, focusing on the green hue. “I am now that you’re out of there,” I replied and closed my eyes as he gently pressed his lips to my forehead, then the tip of my nose, a move I loved, and then to my lips. I smoothed my hands around his now clean body, over the white fabric of his fresh T-shirt. A gallon tank of water had been used to clean his face and torso, and a first-aid kit to clean the deep cut on his thigh.

  He winced when I stroked over his ribs. “Damn, I think he might’ve fractured one,” he hissed.

  “I
’m sorry,” I rushed out, yanking my hands back, but he was quicker.

  He pulled them around his warmth again and held me close. “Just stings,” he assured me. “But it’ll get better soon enough.”

  “What about your leg?” I asked, glancing down where a white bandage sat underneath gray sweats, wrapped around his thick thigh, the blood already seeping through and into the fabric. “You need to go to the hospital.”

  “It might need a few stitches,” he replied with a shrug. “Once we’re done here, we’ll go to the emergency room.”

  “You better.”

  He grinned, then lowered toward me again. “I’ll never get tired of kissing you,” he said against my mouth, then took my lips again, deeper, sweeter, and slow. “And I can’t wait to take you home.”

  My heart lurched in my chest at the same time my insides rolled, tumbling and whirling. But I wasn’t going to vomit. No, I still had to tell him where I’d been, what I’d had to do, and it scared the shit out of me. I had no idea how he would react, but with us still in Layton’s RV while he’d been busy collecting with Josh, it wasn’t the right time.

  We pulled back when the door pulled open, and the pair entered, carrying a massive canvas bag, then dumped it on the counter. “Jesus, Quinn, we made so much money I feel bad,” Josh said, running his hands over his head. “Okay, I don’t, but shit, we cleaned up tonight.”

  “A nice deposit to make come Monday,” Layton added.

  Quinn’s finger hooked under my chin, and he lifted my face to his. “What’s going through your mind?” he asked, studying me, ignoring the other two. “Talk to me, Kinny.”

  “I do have to talk to you about something, but not here,” I whispered, looking pointedly over his broad shoulder. “In private.”

  His already swollen lids narrowed, the bruising around his cheek straining with the movement. “Am I going to like it?”

  I don’t know. Maybe not. Probably not. Oh, God, this is a mess.

  “We should get out of here,” I said, pulling back and stepping out of his embrace. I took his hands in mine and rubbed carefully over his split and reddened knuckles, one of them bigger than the rest.

  “Guys, we’re heading out,” he said without turning. “See you later.”

  “Sure thing,” they said in unison. “Here’s your takings.” Layton held out a bag filled with Quinn’s winnings, but he waved it off.

  “Take it home for me, man. I trust you.”

  Layton beamed, and I don’t know why Quinn’s words made him so happy, but I wasn’t going to question it. The bigger question was, how the hell did I begin to tell him?

  Quinn

  We got out of the RV and headed toward Josh’s SUV. I held Kinsley’s hand in mine, lacing our fingers, the natural way she fit, in everything, felt so fucking right I could’ve dropped to one knee right then and there. I saw our future, and it involved all the fucking things I loathed, the things I thought I’d never have, a fucking life that I now wanted because of her.

  I took a sharp breath, my pulse kicking up faster than coming face-to-face with my father in a fight we’d let him sign up for when we’d ‘accidentally’ let slip around the shit-hole area he’d slinked off to, that I was fighting and looking for opponents.

  Now it was all over, and the sense of satisfaction was intense, but it wasn’t just the fight. I had my girl next to me, there for me, supporting me, and willing to get in the circle and kick ass. For me. I fucking loved her, and that feeling only grew with every second that passed.

  I’d never let her go again.

  “You’re smiling,” she said, her voice quiet. “I hope that means you’re happy you’re taking some time away from this place?”

  We stopped by the car, and I turned to her. I brushed the loose hairs from her ponytail behind her ear and cupped her face. “I’m happy I get to spend all of that time with you. If you want to, that is?”

  She beamed, but it didn’t stick. It fell from her beautiful face the second after. “Quinn, I want to be with you all of the time,” she replied. “But, there’s something I need to tell you. It’s important, and whatever happens after, if it turns out like I expect it to, I need you to know I want it, okay?”

  I swallowed the huge lump in my throat, and released a long breath, waiting for the news she had for me. “Okay, I’m listening, Kinny. But I have to tell you, whatever this is, whatever you need, I’ll get it. Whatever you want, it’s yours. You only have to say it, and it’s done.”

  “I wish it were that simple,” she whispered. Her eyes lowered, her lashes casting shadows over her cheeks.

  “Quinn Dexter?” a deep voice asked, and we both turned.

  Five guys headed our way. I thought I recognized one of them, but couldn’t be certain.

  “Yeah,” I replied, tugging Kinsley behind me. My muscles tensed, and my hands twitched, ready to defend in case this was some kind of attack. I pulled the door handle and began to open the door to get her in the safety of the car.

  “We’re not here to ambush you, dude,” a blond guy said. “So relax. We just came to talk to you.”

  “What the fuck’s going on?” Josh yelled, and he and Layton ran to my side, their eyes everywhere, their heads whipping to each person surrounding us.

  “We came to talk to Quinn,” the familiar guy said.

  “Hey, that’s…” Layton pointed to him. “Fuck, that’s Lucian Moretz, man.”

  I knew that name. An MMA champ from West Norton. Norton City was fucking miles away, so these guys were way out of their area.

  “I am,” he said. “I watched your fight tonight,” he said, gesturing over his shoulder with his thumb. “Impressive, but I gotta ask, why the hell did you let that guy think he had you?” He shook his head as though wondering if I’d lost my mind. “I mean, kudos for taking the hits and all, but why?”

  “It’s impressive that you noticed,” I fired back, and he smirked. I shrugged, not about to give a stranger my fucking life story, or anybody that didn’t already know. “Gotta give the crowd what they paid for.”

  “We already know who he is to you,” another of them said. He winked a dark eye at me, then turned to Lucian. “Man, don’t fuck about, he won’t agree to a fucking thing if you toy with him.”

  “Charlie, fuck, shut your trap!” another guy said, then spoke to me. “Hey, man, I’m Brady, Lucian’s brother, and manager. This ass is Charlie, Blondie is Blaine, and him over there”—he pointed to another guy with light-brown hair and almost black eyes, watching me—“that’s Nate.”

  “Okay, you have names, hurray.” I rolled my eyes. “If you don’t get to the point soon, I’m leaving.”

  “Yeah, that’s a nasty cut on your leg,” the blond guy said, dipping his chin. “You should get that checked out.”

  “Ya think,” Kinsley spat, coming around from behind me. “We need to get out of here.” I wrapped my arms around her shoulder, and she leaned into my side, sliding her arm around my waist.

  I looked down to see the stain had increased and was growing larger. “Fuck.”

  “So, I’ll make this quick,” Lucian said, shifting on his feet in the cold. He held his hands together in front of himself like a doorman. “I’ve got an offer for you. Come join our gym, and leave this shit behind.”

  “What?” The guys and I asked in unison at the same time Kinsley gasped. “Why the fuck would I do that?”

  Charlie tapped the side of his head. “Think about it. This can only go on for so long, and you bet your ass someone, like tonight, might bring a little help along with them. Is that what you want?”

  Lucian looked from Charlie to me. “He’s right. You might not know this, but I started out pretty much like you but got into it for a different reason. The result, however, was the same. Someone tried to kill me.” He took an envelope from Brady and walked toward me. “I’ve been watching you for a while.”

  Charlie nodded. “Yeah, there’s someone in your team that can’t research for shit. Got us on
your radar.” He jerked his chin to Layton.

  “What the hell did I do?” Layton asked, his hands out.

  “Layton, you’ve got stones, but you’re sloppy. When you’re searching, cover your tracks. You left a digital trail a fucking mile long.”

  Layton’s face paled. “I did?”

  “How do you think I found you? A couple of clicks and your life flashed before my eyes.” Charlie shook his head and rubbed down his face. “Ever heard of a VPN?” he asked, and I saw Nate’s straight face finally crack a smile. “Or, I don’t know, closing your ports so no-one can hack into them, too?”

  I had no idea what the fuck was going on, but the longer we stood there, the more blood I was losing. “Spit it the fuck out,” I said, pointing to my leg.

  “Oh, God,” Kinsley gasped. “Quinn, we should go. We can discuss this later.”

  “Your boy was searching for guys that conveniently found themselves fucked up or incarcerated not long after,” Charlie said, ignoring us. Kinsley knew, there was no need to hide it. She knew about two of the guys we’d taken down. I didn’t need to discuss the rest. Charlie held his hands up. “Don’t worry, I cleared it up for you.”

  “How?” Layton asked.

  Charlie held his hands out again. “Are you always this dim? Your fucking ports! Man, I could’ve cleaned you out of your accounts, erased all of your college projects, ruined your damn life… Be fucking careful! Jesus, your firewall is a piece of shit.”

  I let my head drop back. Layton was careless sometimes, but this was downright stupid.

  “You’re not going to get anywhere if you keep that shit up, so if you’re willing to learn for the sake of Quinn here, then I can teach you the ways.”

  Layton nodded like a bobblehead down a dirt track.

  “And you,” Lucian said, pointing at me with a brown envelope, “have got talent. With proper training, you could be second best.”

  I blanched. “Only second?”

  “Yeah.” Lucian grinned. “Anyway,” he said, shaking his head. “Take this.” He handed me the envelope with a stack of papers inside. “We’ve got an opening in our coaching program. If you want, the spot’s yours.”