by Kylie Walker
“I haven’t heard anything from you… In days! I haven’t heard anything regarding the custody payments,” Marnie growled, speaking over me. “And now, you put our daughter in the hospital? Or was it that bimbo you’ve had watching her?”
I had said it before I thought it through. “Technically, Marnie, you’re supposed to be fucking watching her when I’m away—“
“Fuck you,” Marnie screamed. “I’m heading to the hospital now. And you better have the custody check ready for me when I arrive. I’ll think again before I allow our daughter in you or your girlfriend’s care. And I’ll make sure to tell Will about this, as well.”
Will was our custody lawyer, a guy we’d met in college, whom Marnie had had a brief fling with. Despite his assurance that he was committed to both of us, I’d always suspected his ‘thing’ for Marnie had never gone away.
It was the reason why I didn’t yet have full custody of Rachel. Why my checks to Marnie continued to fly in. Why I felt I didn’t have much wiggle room. She could toss her complaints to Will, just like that, and then Rachel could be in her clutches for good.
And yet, I needed to convince him that Rachel’s moving across the country was a good decision for all of us.
When I reached the hospital, I parked in the visitor section, near the emergency room, and walked like a ghost in the emergency waiting room. Quinn was seated in the very center. Her hair gleamed beneath the bright light of the waiting room, making her look almost angelic. Yet her face, crumpled with worry, ripped my heart to shreds. When I reached her, she peered up at me, unable to say anything but, “Hello.”
I sat beside her, not able to touch her. A force field was between us, causing me to bring my hands to my lap in a sort of prayer form. I could hear her breathing. It was jagged and edged with tears. It told me everything I needed to know; that she cared about my little girl more than anyone else, besides me.
“Have you seen the doctor yet?” I finally asked her, my eyes twitching.
“They haven’t come back out yet, no,” Quinn answered. She drew her hair behind her ears in a nervous twitch, one she often did around me. “Tyler, I’m so sorry. I was distracted and—“
I held up my hand. I splayed its width against her small hand on her lap, linking us. I wasn’t sure how much longer this could go on.
“Listen,” I began. “You did a good thing today. You really did. Taking her here. Making sure she was all right, after the accident. I’m not angry.”
Quinn bowed her head, gazing down at my fingers. It was as if she were trying to memorize them, to capture what it felt like to hold my hand.
“I’ve been offered a full-time gig out in San Francisco,” I said, unable to draw a line between this disaster and that coming one. “I need to convince our lawyer that it’s a good idea for Rachel to leave North Carolina behind. I need to convince him that she shouldn’t spend even a small part of the week with her mother. That she’s a danger to her.”
“She doesn’t even love her,” Quinn whispered, her eyes still staring straight ahead. “I spoke with her. Tried to understand her. But she just brushed me off away, asking for money from you. I can’t stand that woman. And the fact that she’s her mother, that she has more power over you…”
“I might need your help,” I said, sliding my thumb over the softness of her skin. I sensed a flicker of sexual desire in her eyes. “I might need you to talk to him. You’ve been the only other person involved in Rachel’s life, lately. And she needs you, now.”
“I’ll do whatever I can,” Quinn whispered. “Even if it means I can’t see you again.”
“It’s probably better if we—“
“You don’t have to say it again,” Quinn said, cutting me off.
Rachel appeared in the doorway of the emergency room. A doctor followed behind her, dressed in a fresh, plaster white coat, and guiding her toward Quinn and I. The doctor spoke to her kindly, peering down at her behind thick glasses. I began to hear him as they approached.
“Don’t you worry about it. I promise. Accidents happen all the time. The important thing is that your lungs are fine. Now, promise me you won’t start smoking in the next few years, and we’re even.”
“Smoking?” Rachel scoffed, her old self. “I would never, Doctor. It’s disgusting. Do you even know what it does to you on a cellular level?”
The doctor chuckled. I stood, taking three long strides toward Rachel and wrapping my arms around her. Immediately, her sob rose into my ear, a reminder that she wasn’t as old as she always pretended to be. I felt her arms around my waist, her nose pressed into my stomach. The doctor crossed his arms, giving me a grandfather-like smile.
“She said Quinn got her away from the smoke,” the doctor affirmed. “I’m assuming this young lady beside you is Quinn?”
Quinn nodded exactly once, unable to take the credit she deserved.
“No damage, then?” I asked the doctor.
“None that I can see. She might want to take it easy for a bit. No running in the gym, that sort of thing,” he said. “I’ve written her a doctor’s note for that. She’s pleased. Says she can put in more time on her science project. You’ve got yourself a little genius here, Mr. Renner.”
I found myself going through the motions. I gave the front desk our insurance information and smiled when it was assumed I should smile. A moment later I was back beside Rachel and Quinn, feeling that my heart was complete in a way that it hadn’t been for a very long time. I chuckled, shaking my head in fake-disappointment.
“You girls. I can’t leave you scientists alone. The minute I do, you want to set fire to the whole house.”
Rachel pressed her lips into a small, embarrassed smile. “I was trying to make toast. The garlic kind you like.”
I instantly thought of the memories of showing Rachel how to drape a thick coat of butter over the bread, then dribbling it with garlic salt. It was our version of ‘cooking.’ And the fact that she’d been doing it for me, while I’d spent the majority of the previous few weeks away, made my heart melt.
“But then sparks started flying!” she continued, growing more animated. “We haven’t covered the electrical unit in science yet. But I think, if we're honest here, Daddy, this was Thomas Edison’s fault. He should have trusted Tesla.”
“How on earth do you already know about that?” Quinn laughed, wrapping her arms around Rachel. “You’re getting too smart for your own good.” Her eyes connected with mine, making me regret that I’d divided us again.
I had felt Marnie’s presence before I heard her. I couldn’t quite describe it, but it was something about her aura. A darkness passed through me, making my smile literally cave in. My head flipped toward the door, finding her and Greg darting toward us. They looked scuffed up, half-drunk, with Marnie’s eyes filled with unadulterated rage.
Rachel curled against Quinn, looking frightened. The minute Marnie reached us, it was Rachel who piped up first. “Mommy. I didn’t mean to do it. I was trying to make dinner.”
Was this really how she felt in front of her mother? Did she really cower like this, when I wasn’t around? I stood gruffly, positioning my hands on either side of my waist. But Marnie, who stood almost a foot shorter than me, tried to stand her ground.
“You think I’m frightened of you or something?” she said sharply. Her voice was overly loud, forcing the rest of the waiting room to look at us. A boy with a broken arm and his mother darted their eyes away the moment I caught them, trying to give us privacy, while a grandfatherly looking man sipped his soda and narrowed his eyes. A few nurses at the station bobbed their heads together, speaking conspiratorially about us. After so many years of trying to stay civil, at least on my side, we were suddenly the best ticket in town.
“Marnie. Do you have to make a scene here?” I asked, my voice growing dark. I knew I appeared like the villain.
“I do have to make a scene here,” she spat. “My daughter was involved in a fi
re and taken to the hospital. And her father thinks it’s okay to just leave her at home alone—“
“She wasn’t alone,” I said, growing taller. The mother near us brought her hand against the broken arm kid’s cheek, trying to soothe him.
“Well, she might as well have been,” Marnie barked. “And I don’t know why you’ve been withholding your custody payments. If you don’t let me take Rachel home right now—“ She stammered, her nostrils flared. “I’m going to get Will here this minute. And what do you think he’ll say, about a girl who ended up in the hospital while her father was off on the west coast? What power do you really think you have, Tyler?”
I felt slapped. I wanted to raise my voice, to scream at her—to thrust her across the room and demand that she act like a normal human. To ask that she thinks about her daughter, for once in her miserable life. But again, the entire waiting room seemed to hinge on her words.
Rachel lifted herself from her chair, onto spindly legs. Quinn’s eyes were filled with tears. I heard Rachel’s tight, simple words.
“Okay, Mom. Let’s just go home, okay?”
Rachel’s head draped down, dragging her chin against her chest. I held the folders from the doctor in my hand and still clung to them, waiting to see if Marnie would ask for them. But she just flipped her head back toward me, saying in a hiss, “If you don’t get that check to me by the end of this week, Tyler. I swear to God.”
Quinn and I sat, despondent, our faces flat and our mouths open, as Marnie and Greg led Rachel back into the darkness of the evening, toward their car. After a long, horrible moment of silence, I lifted the plastic cup from the chair’s cup holder and crumpled it, knowing this wouldn’t be enough to quell my anger. Perhaps nothing would. Slowly, Quinn crept her fingers toward my knee, draping her warm hand across my thigh. We sat, linked, for several minutes.
“She wouldn’t have even come if it weren’t for the custody check,” Quinn finally stated, giving a voice to what was going through my mind. “Is there any way around this?”
But I didn’t want to talk about it. Not now. Breaking the bond between us, I stood up and jangled my keys, giving her a shrug. “I think I’ll head home.”
“But Tyler—“ Quinn began, her eyes shimmering. “You don’t have to deal with this alone.”
But the rage felt volatile now. I wanted to slam my fist into something. The wall. The blackened toaster. Beyond my daughter’s accident, I was rattled from my emotions for Quinn, emotions I knew would ultimately have to be ignored, in order to find a better life for Rachel and I. A better life I wasn’t entirely sure could be possible, due to Marnie’s close-knit relationship with our lawyer.
I felt fucking wretched. And I didn’t want Quinn to be around to see me face the brunt of the horror within me.
Chapter 19
Quinn
Tyler had left the hospital before I did. He left me sitting in that chair, my feet stretched out and my heart bursting in my chest, unable to comprehend what I’d done. I’d put a little girl in danger. I’d fallen in love with someone who couldn’t possibly love me back. I’d come to Raleigh to start over, but I was banging my skull against some sort of impenetrable wall. I could feel the cracks in my bones.
I drove with the radio off, listening to my staggered inhales and exhales, counting all the memories I had with Rachel. The science experiments we’d begun together. The names she’d chosen for her plants, Artemis and Othello. How she’d told me she ‘didn’t really need friends,’ reminding me so much of myself at her age. Would I ever be allowed to see her again or to spend time with her? Or would Marnie wield her ugly weapon—her motherhood—and prevent it for good?
For Rachel’s sake, I prayed Tyler would find a way to move her out west. She deserved the intrigue of another school, to mold her brain over a better curriculum. At 23 years old, I already felt decrepit, old, as if I’d seen enough and done enough in my life, and I needed to let others live in my place.
That included love. I’d had it, once. And I felt it now, with Tyler. But that didn’t necessarily mean I was allowed to have it. That was what being an adult was, perhaps. Accepting your feelings and then dismissing them.
When I pulled into my driveway, my stomach sank into a pit. I’d forgotten about Chris. His drunken ass sleeping in my bed, probably drooling on my pillow. Giving a heavy sigh, I eased from the driver’s seat and began to walk up the porch steps. The night was pitch-dark, already, and the air simmered with smoke from the fire. Glancing to the right, I eyed Tyler’s truck out front. What did he think of the damage? He must be pissed.
“There you are.”
His words sent a chill down my spine. Blinking into the darkness, I realized that Chris was on the front porch, sitting perfectly still on the swing. He held a beer in his left hand, gripping it tightly, and his face looked serene as if he’d been on a Buddhist journey and seen the light.
“Chris. What are you doing awake? And why are you still drinking?” I asked with a sigh. I remained on the porch steps, growing accustomed to his gaze and he looked at me with all the love he’d had before. As if he’d never slept with Emery.
“I was worried about you,” he said.
I felt nothing. I’d expected to—even waited for my heart to begin its familiar pitter-patter. But my face remained cold, hardened after the night of constant stress.
“Listen, if you think you can drive, you should head back to Asheville,” I said.
“What if I don’t want that?” He tilted his head, his eyes glinting in the sudden moonlight. The clouds had blustered across it, revealing it like magicians with the final surprise.
“I don’t think it matters what you want anymore,” I affirmed, drawing my keys from my pocket.
“Bitch,” Chris blurted out, his voice loud and articulate. He rose from the porch swing, trying to puff out his chest in an attempt to frighten me.
“Excuse me?” I whispered, knowing he wasn’t a violent guy.
“You don’t deserve me back,” Chris spat, his voice domineering. “But I’m accepting all our differences, from before. You know, you’re such a fucking nerd, nobody else is going to fall for you the way I did. You need me to love you, Quinn. Or, you’re going to be alone. Forever.”
Chris voiced the fear I didn’t know existed in my gut. My stomach tightened, making me throw myself against the door, eager to get out of his presence. But Chris wrapped his hand around my arm, clinging to me tightly.
I screamed at him, my stress levels higher than ever before. “Let go of me! Now!”
The front door slammed next door. Tyler’s six-foot-four figure, gruff and muscled, with those firm, broad shoulders, marched across the lawn. He stood, his hands on either side of his waist, gazing at Chris and I. His jaw was set, coated in a five o’ clock shadow, and he looked four times the man that Chris did, with his scrawny arms, trying to take advantage of me.
“I know you’re not trying to hurt that girl,” Tyler said. His voice echoed through time and space, making my heart burst against my ribcage. He took another step toward us and as he grew closer, Chris’ grip on my arm loosened.
“Who the fuck is this guy?” Chris asked, his voice lined with fear.
Tyler was now standing at the bottom of the porch steps. Beneath his black t-shirt, his muscles gleamed in the soft light. He smirked at Chris as if he knew precisely what was going on. As if Tyler was the teacher, and he’d just caught the school bully.
“I’ll say it again,” Tyler said, his voice as low as a growl. “I know you’re not trying to hurt my friend Quinn. So you better get back in your shitty car and go back where you came from.”
“Oh really. What are you going to do about it?” Chris asked, his voice high-pitched and raspy.
“I’m really not a descriptive man,” Tyler said. “Just know that if you don’t back away from her and get into your car in ten seconds, you’ll be ten feet under.”
“I think you’ll regret threat
ening me,” Chris tried, sounding like a child.
“I disagree,” Tyler said, shrugging. “Try me.”
Tyler began to count down, then. With each count, I felt the tension rise. My heart hammered, causing me to quiver, still caught in Chris’ now-weak grasp. I could have shoved him off if I needed to, but I wanted to fade away into the background, and not cause more anger.
When Tyler reached number four, Chris sputtered, “Fine. Have it your way.” He released me, almost spitting. “Let me know when you wise up. I’m the best fucking thing you’ll ever get. You’re making a huge mistake.”
He burst past Tyler, stomping through the grass, and then flung himself into the front seat of his car. I looked away, staring at Tyler. The soft purr of the Prius met my ears, and a grin stretched between my cheeks.
Tyler’s steps vibrated across the porch floorboards. Standing, shocked, I couldn’t fully prepare myself. Mere inches from my mouth, he whispered, “I don’t know what either of us was thinking. I can’t live through this night without you.”
“Neither can I,” I whispered back. “If that wasn’t already obvious.” Large tears descended down my cheeks as he knelt down and kissed me, first slowly, passionately, with his tongue gliding across the softness of my lips. And then, with more hunger. He bit my bottom lip, pressing me against the side of my house. I felt the thickness of his cock growing against my leg, his desire and his anger forming into a kind of tornado.
Reaching up, he ripped at my dress—actually tore it from my torso, revealing the lace of my black bra beneath. His lips drew a line across my gleaming skin before he wrapped his arms around the back and unhooked my bra. There we were, on my front porch, with his mouth around my hardening nipples. A moan escaped me, a moan that allowed the tension from the past day’s events to fall from my shoulders. I could have sobbed as the release of all the stress left my body, but instead, I focused on Tyler and his lips, his hands, everything about him. It was just us, now. Nothing else mattered.
