Fireworks: A Holiday Bad Boy Romance

by Claire Adams

  I had pushed my way through group after group of Dark Flag fans. By the time I had reached the front doors of the Luxor, I could hear the ambulance sirens. My heart had dropped onto the pavement as I ran down the sidewalk to find Quinn.

  Half a block away, I had overheard two women talking about a heroic bystander. She had jumped forward to help when everyone else was still standing back in shock and fear. I had prayed it was Quinn; it had sounded exactly what she would have done. Then, when I saw it really was her, the relief left me unfiltered.

  She glowed, and it never even occurred to me it was the adrenaline. The way she smiled at the handsome injured man in the ambulance pushed my blood pressure to the clouds. His name on her lips was too much.

  "Who the hell is Evan?" I asked.

  Quinn's eyebrows crashed together in a frown. "The driver. The man that just went off to the hospital with a broken arm."

  "And let me guess, he was just dying to find a way to thank you," I said.

  She pushed past me and stormed down the sidewalk. I caught up to her in two steps and grabbed her elbow. I wanted to tell her how afraid I was when I heard the sirens, but the words would not form.

  "His parents wanted to take me to dinner as a thank you. What is wrong with that? It’s not like I have plans with anyone," Quinn said.

  "Then let's make plans," I said. I wrapped her arm in mine and pulled her back towards the Luxor. "I don't care if it’s pizza in your parents' basement, but whatever you are doing tomorrow night it’s with me."

  I did not have time to decipher the narrow flash of her eyes. As soon as we walked into the Luxor lobby, I caught sight of Anya. Despite the small knot of fawning young men, she pursed her lips and gave Quinn a hard stare. She then stepped over to the judge that happened to be standing nearby and whispered something in his ear.

  "What is up with her?" Quinn asked. She had noticed Anya's barbed looks.

  "Whatever it is, it looks like we have to address it right now," I said.

  Anya marched the judge over to meet us. "I've heard from quite a few other players that Quinn's performance was remarkable. Too remarkable. I'm sorry, Owen, but it seems like maybe you coached her."

  "And what's wrong with giving pointers to newbies?" I asked.

  "It’s against the rules for sponsored players," the judge said.

  Quinn yanked her arm out of mine. She grabbed the judge's phone from his hands and gave him her login and password. "There. Now you can check my play from last night. Owen's alibi happens to be standing right here." Quinn gave Anya a sharp look.

  The judge scrolled through the play log and found the moment she detected the Shattering Mirror Charm. "Yes, it’s right here. And I'm to understand that you were with Mr. Redd last night at 11 p.m.?"

  Anya crossed her hands over her chest. "Yes, that's right."

  "Then, it is clear that Ms. Thomas discovered the move on her own and there was no direct coaching involved. Now, if you'll excuse me." The judge disappeared back into the ballroom with Anya on his heels.

  "That was awful," I said. I reached for Quinn, but she stepped back.

  "Kind of like this whole morning. I can't even enjoy my one success."

  "You're right. It was a huge success. You should be proud."

  "Really? Where was all of that an hour ago? You know, when you ignored me in the ballroom. I know I'm just a newbie, but I thought maybe we were closer than that," Quinn said.

  "I know, I acted stupidly. I thought you wanted your space. I mean, with your father watching and everything that happened yesterday."

  "Yesterday is exactly why I thought I could expect a little more from you," she said.

  Her eyes flashed over me and I remembered them turning to dark brown chocolate as she had melted underneath me. The memory was enough to make me feel hot again.

  I cleared my throat. "Was that before or after you quit your nursing program and then agreed to go back and live with your parents? I'm sorry if I had some trouble keeping up."

  "If it’s so much trouble, then why do you keep butting into my life?" Quinn asked. "It’s either you or my father telling me which way to go and I'm getting sick of it. I came here and did a great job on my own, and not only does that go unacknowledged, but I'm accused of getting my skills directly from you. No one believes I can do anything on my own." She looked towards the doors and bit her lip.

  "That Evan seems to believe you did just fine on your own," I said.

  "And what's with the jealousy?" Quinn asked. "Coming from a man that spent the night with a friend who clearly has the hots for you, it seems ridiculous."

  "You know it’s not like that between Anya and me," I protested.

  "No. I don't know that. You just expect me to believe it. Just like my father expects me to believe that what he decides is best for me. I'm sick of it! Life should not be this complicated."

  She dodged around me and headed for the doors.

  "Where are you going?" I asked.

  "To get a cab."

  "Come on, let me drive you home," I said. "It’s the least I can do to make it up to you."

  "Don't you have work to do?"

  I shook my head. "It’s optional. I'd get paid, but I don't have to do it. And right now, the most important thing to me is driving you home safely."

  She did not talk as we found the car and started towards Summerlin. I racked my brain to find a safe subject to talk about.

  "So, what would you like your non-complicated life to look like?" I asked.

  Quinn frowned out the window. "That's easy. All I want is a job that I like that supports me and lets me be independent."

  "Sounds practical." I wondered how much her parents had lectured her the night before. "What happened to using your talents? The game today showed you are really good."

  "Turns out I'm really good administering emergency first aid too," Quinn said. "So I don't see anything wrong with finding both a job and a hobby that I love."

  "The hard part is figuring out which is which," I said. "It took me years to realize gaming was more than just a hobby for me."

  "Well, not that many people can make a lifestyle out of it. You either have to be well-connected, experienced, and sponsored like you or filthy rich like Anya. I didn't see many other people like that today. Everyone else had day jobs, but they were not enjoying themselves any less," Quinn said.

  "True. But you stood out," I said.

  "So does Anya. Are you going to tell me what's going on with her or not?"

  I scowled and wished we were not so close to Quinn’s parents' house. "I already told you there is nothing going on between us. She would like there to be and we've flirted in the past, but I have never been interested in her that way. Don't let her get in your head."

  "It’s kind of hard not to when I walk in and find you two together this morning. You admit she has the hots for you and you two spent the entire night alone together," Quinn said.

  "No. We were not alone. In fact, she spent most of the night hanging out with Jasper. He'll tell you all about it," I said.

  Quinn opened her door just as I stopped the car at the end of the driveway. "Fine. I believe you. It’s just one more reason this is all too complicated for me right now."

  Before I could say anything else, she shut the door and walked away. I drove home and ran up the steps to my apartment two at a time. Jasper was spinning on one of the kitchen stools and chatting with a few of his odd friends.

  "Hey, there he is," Jasper said.

  I jerked a thumb towards the hall. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

  He looked at his phone and jumped up. "Yeah, sure, buddy, but make it quick. We've got to get out of here."

  His friends cleared up their stuff and headed towards the back stairwell. I watched them go.

  "They parked out back. Checking out the best way to help me move," Jasper said. "So, what's up?"

  "Did anything happen with you and Anya last night?"

  "Oh, whoa. She's hot, but no
. We just flirted. I thought when you disappeared that something might happen, but she crashed solo on the couch."

  "Would you be willing to tell Quinn that?"

  "Kill a little jealousy? Sure, man, whatever you need. I'll check in and call her later," he slapped my shoulder and disappeared down the back stairwell after his friends.

  I walked back into my apartment and felt the hair on the back of my neck go up. Something was off. Jasper was going to be helpful with Quinn, but why was he in such a hurry to leave?

  I shook off the feeling. I had been off all day. Ever since Mr. Thomas confronted me about breaking up with Sienna, I had felt jumpy. He had said what I had always felt sick about. I had broken up with Sienna and then she committed suicide. Was I to blame?

  I replayed the rest of the day in my head. At the tournament, I had thought it best to stay away from Quinn. Not only was Mr. Thomas watching my every move, but he had to have told her about it on the car ride. Only later did I realize he had said nothing to Quinn. She was the only person that did not blame me for Sienna's suicide. And I had treated her badly.

  I paced around the kitchen island. I had to tell her about what her father had said. It wasn't so much that he blamed me, but that he was right in thinking the timing of our break-up affected Sienna's decision. There was no good way to broach the idea that Quinn’s sister had died because I broke her heart.

  Even as I thought about it, I knew it did not feel true. Sienna had not been broken-hearted over the break-up. Things had not been right with us for a while. But if Mr. Thomas was going to try to keep Quinn away from me, it was exactly the kind of accusation he would level against me.

  I picked up the phone and dialed Quinn's number. It rang and rang before her voicemail picked up. I hung up and tried again. The third time it had not yet reached her voicemail when a heavy knock shook my door. I hung up the phone.

  The police were back and they pushed their way into my apartment without a word. One of the uniformed men tossed me another search warrant and they started to take the place apart.

  Like my life, I thought. Everything getting knocked out of place.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Quinn

  I got in the door and was relieved to find both my parents were out. My father was meeting with a client in preparation for an upcoming trial. My mother had decided to indulge in a spa package in order to relax. All I needed to relax was a pizza and the quiet house.

  The only problem was after I had ordered the pizza, all I could do was pace. I still felt the rush of adrenaline from the accident scene. It played over and over in my head and each time, I was amazed. My body had reacted before my brain caught up. Then, my mind worked faster and more fluidly than it ever had during class. I made decisions quickly, recalled what I had learned in first aid training, and it had all felt so natural.

  When the phone rang, I was so distracted that I did not notice the unknown caller icon. "Hello?"

  "Is this Quinn Thomas?" a cheerful male voice asked.

  "I'm sorry, who is this?"

  "My name is Evan. Is this the Quinn Thomas that used my mother's Hermes scarf as a sling?"

  "Evan! You surprised me. How did you get this number?" I asked.

  "Well, you did not accept our dinner invitation, but you did tell me your name and that you were a local so I looked you up," Evan said. "Now I understand about not wanting dinner, but my parents and I would really like to thank you."

  "Please don't. It was nothing," I said. How could I explain how exhilarating I had found his accident?

  "It’s not just us that thought so," Evan said. "The EMTs were pretty impressed too. We all got to talking and I think we've come up with a great suggestion."

  "You talked about me on the way to the hospital?"

  "All good things. So, as a thank you, my parents and I would like to offer to pay for your EMT training and certification. To be honest, we did the research and it may have cost more to take you to that five-star restaurant," Evan said. "This way, we figure our thank you will end up helping a lot more people."

  I laughed. "That is very generous of you, but I cannot accept that much money from you. I'm just glad you are okay."

  "Just consider it," Evan said. He gave me his number and hung up.

  I was still smiling when my mother came in carrying the pizza. "I paid for it in the driveway," she said. "I hope that's okay."

  "Thanks." I pulled out an extra plate and napkin for her.

  "So," my mother said as she sat down at a kitchen stool, "what are you smiling about?"

  She was so relaxed and calm it was hard not to feel at ease around her. "I think I know what I want to do," I said.

  "Are you up for giving me details or are you going to keep it under wraps?" she asked. "Your sister always kept everything under wraps until she had it perfectly thought out. She liked the big reveal."

  "Yeah, I guess that's a good idea. There are a lot of details to figure out," I said.

  "Well, at least give me the general idea." My mother smiled and took a large slice of pizza.

  "I think I found a way to use my talents to earn enough money to get certified in the perfect career," I said. "And the best part is I can do it all on my own. No offense."

  "None taken," my mother said. "I sometimes think I would feel stronger, more steady, if I had made my own way. I don't regret marrying your father, but he pays for everything and it leaves me, I don't know, adrift."

  Her eyes started to get a familiar faraway glaze. I could feel the relaxation and contentment evaporating from her. My mother's mood swings always made me nervous. I chewed my pizza carefully and wondered how to ask her about them. Did she know Sienna had the same sharp ups and downs? My mother had to know it was dangerous. She had to feel it.

  "Oh, your phone's buzzing," my mother said. "I'm just going to run upstairs and get an aspirin." She disappeared up the staircase, and I had the sinking feeling I would not see her again for too long.

  I looked at my phone and saw Owen's name. I froze. Part of me wanted to throw my phone across the room. Wouldn't life be simpler without Owen? I wondered. The majority of me, including my leaping heart, knew that Owen would always be the one part of my life I could count on no matter how messy things got.

  "Hello?" I asked.

  "Quinn, is there any way you can come over? The cops are here again and I feel like I need someone to be my witness," Owen said.

  "The cops are at your apartment again?" I asked. I slid reluctantly off my stool and looked up the stairs after my mother. "Shouldn't you call a lawyer, instead?"

  "Yes. I don't know. I don't know how to handle this. They're not finding anything and I don't want to blow it out of proportion. It would just feel better if I had someone here on my side. Besides, your father is a lawyer. You'll probably understand all this legal talk better than me."

  I promised I would leave soon and went to the foot of the stairs. "Mom? Are you okay?"

  "Just tired, darling. I think I'll turn in," she called down, her voice fuzzy.

  "Do you mind if I run out? I'll call Father and let him know," I said.

  "Sure, sure," her voice disappeared and I heard her bedroom door shut.

  I was relieved to get my father's voicemail. I told him I was running out to the store to grab a few things and would be home soon. Then, I drove as quickly as I could to Owen's apartment and found three squad cars parked haphazardly outside his building.

  #

  I found Owen pacing the hallway outside his apartment.

  "Are you okay?" I asked. I peeked around him into the open door. Four uniformed police officers were systematically searching every inch of his apartment.

  "No. I'm not okay. I know you're not going to want to hear this, but I have a theory about why this is happening," Owen said.

  "Why wouldn't I want to hear your theory?" I crossed my arms and leaned against the hallway wall.

  "Because I think somehow your father is using his connections to create thes
e search warrants and send the cops over here." He saw my face and held up his hands. "Hey, I said you didn't want to hear it, but think about it. He doesn't want me around you. He'd be happy to discredit me in any way possible."

  "That doesn't mean he would stoop to illegal measures," I said.

  "That's why I think it makes sense that it’s him. He can do all of this and make it seem perfectly legal," Owen said.

  I ran both hands through my hair and had to strain not to pull any out. "So, you brought me over here to throw me in the middle of some psychotic made-up dispute between you and my father?" I asked.

  Owen stopped pacing and pried my hands off my head. "No. And it’s not psychotic. Your father blames me for a lot of things, now more than ever."

  "He can't blame you for me quitting my nursing program. And even if he did, this would make no sense as retaliation," I said.

  "I don't think it’s about the nursing program," Owen said. He bit his lip.

  "You mean you think this is about what happened with Sienna? He blames you for her death?" I pulled away. "Look, Owen, this isn't what I needed tonight. I'm sorry this is happening to you, but I am certain it has nothing to do with my father."

  He caught my hands and pulled me back. "You're right, I know. I'm sorry. I just have no idea who else would be after me like this."

  "Didn't we already talk about it and you thought it could be another player literally trying to throw you off your game?" I asked. "Or, to counter your insane accusation of my father, why don't I point out that it could very well be Anya. A little jealousy might go a long way. She seems like the type that would pay a powerful lawyer."

  Owen looked as if he had swallowed a tack and then he cleared his throat. "But the first time happened before Anya started acting jealous, so it couldn't be her. And I'm sorry to mention your father, but it could be possible."

  I was glad when the police filed out of the apartment because it stopped us talking. They walked by without even speaking to Owen, so it was obvious they did not find what they were looking for inside. It took three whole minutes of pounding silence before either of us moved to enter the now-abandoned apartment.