by Jewel E. Ann
Round six goes to Quinn.
*
Journal Day 88
Grateful for time.
The idea was if I’m grateful for something it can’t be my enemy. While most of the world worked hard to earn a living or make some worthwhile contribution to society, I brainstormed my next move. It was exhausting because not so long ago I was a worker and volunteer making a difference. I had to resolve the situation soon and not just because of Thanksgiving, because Mac was right … I was losing myself. By the time I got the heads-up call from Tom that evening, I still had no idea what my next move was. Helpless and clueless, all I could do was spy out the peephole and wait to see his latest sacrificial lamb. As fights go, this was the moment I got knocked down and nearly knocked out. Up until that point, I believed Quinn was holding out on me. I sensed his internal struggle, that what he said and what he felt were at conflict, but what met my eyes through the little hole in the door was a clear sign that he meant business. I blinked my eyes several times to make sure it wasn’t an illusion, but it wasn’t, she wasn’t. Hello, Olivia.
Quinn, alcohol, and Olivia. It was the worst possible combination. He looked completely wasted, far worse than I had seen him since I arrived in New York. She looked a little inebriated herself. I couldn’t tell who was holding whom up. Hysteria boiled inside of me. I wanted to throw open the door and tear out her hair, and ironically his too. This was the definition of “low blow.” The debilitating cocktail of emotions that I felt the first night ripped through my body like a hurricane, only this time I couldn’t hold them back. I ran to the bathroom and expelled the contents of my stomach as tears trailed down my cheeks, the one thing that kept me from fainting was the close proximity of the cold tile floor.
*
Journal Day 89
Grateful for a place to call home. One week until Thanksgiving, I’ll be there soon … alone.
Sometimes spending the night on the bathroom floor brings clarity to an otherwise cloudy situation. It was time to go home. I said what I needed to say and I did everything I could think of to bring Quinn back from his darkness, but sometimes even your best wasn’t enough. I packed up my belongings and called Mac to give her my concession speech.
“Please tell me you’ve wrangled that Arabian horse of yours and you’re coming home early.” The excitement in her voice was heartbreaking.
“Well, you’re right on one account. I’m coming home early.”
“Oh, Addy, no,” she whispered in sympathy.
I was holding my breath hoping it would keep my emotions in check, but it didn’t. The sobs came and they vibrated uncontrollably through my body. “It’s––it’s––over.”
“Oh, sweetie, shh, calm down and tell me what happened.” Her voice was soft and comforting, but too far away.
I told her everything and occasionally she offered soothing words of encouragement, but mostly she just listened. Shattered was the only word to describe how I was feeling.
“Sweetie, I know you’re ready to come home and believe me, I am so ready to see you again, but I want to try something. Will you stay just a couple more days?”
“What? Why?”
“Just trust me, okay?”
I laughed. “Are you serious? Those are your famous last words before we end up in jail.”
“Good point. Just do this for me, even if you don’t trust me. How about that?”
I wiped my eyes and sniffled. “This better be good. I’m leaving this weekend no matter what.”
“Oh it’s going to be good, don’t you worry about that. Now chin up, shoulders back, and remember you’re a beautiful, brilliant, and ridiculously generous woman who will find happiness. It also doesn’t hurt that you have the most amazingly awesome friend in the world. See you in a few days, love you.”
“Love you too … and, Mac?”
“Yeah?”
“I do trust you.”
A pleasant hum came over the line and I imagined she was smiling.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Journal Day 90
Grateful for Mac: my rock, my best friend, my family.
I stayed locked up in the Grants’ condo for the next twenty-four hours, waiting for Mac’s move. Of course I assumed she would be showing up soon, probably ready to knock down Quinn’s door and give him the worst tongue lashing anyone had ever had. There was no doubt in my mind that it would never work, but at that point I had nothing to lose. I understood she felt the need to try and help me. Allowing her to have a run at Quinn would give us both peace of mind that we had tried everything. With complete certainty, I knew in the end we would be leaving New York on Sunday without Quinn.
By noon I was going crazy, so I texted Mac.
Where are you?
Um … home, why?
Are you kidding? What are you waiting for? I’m going insane, I thought you’d be here by now.
I’m not going to New York.
Then what’s this plan of yours and when is it taking place?
Patience. The verdict will be in by the time you go to sleep tonight.
Verdict, what’s that supposed to mean?
You’ll see, now eat something so you don’t pass out … and shave your legs.
Ugh, you drive me bonkers!
Love you too!
Mac’s plan went from predictable to a complete mystery which made me go from resigned and calm to extremely anxious. Eating wasn’t so easy, but I managed half a sandwich and some carrots. By 5:00 p.m., I was wearing a path on the Grants’ wool rug in their great room. I couldn’t stop pacing, waiting for the unknown. My mind imagined just about everything except what actually happened. Tom called up to let me know I had a guest.
“Who is it?” I asked, relieved that the wait was over.
“They requested I not say, just to tell you it’s a gift from Mac.”
“Send them … or it up, thanks.”
“My pleasure, Miss Brecken.”
The suspense was unbearable so I went out the door and waited for the elevator. The elevator doors chimed and I was truly unequivocally shocked.
“Surprise!”
No way!
He stepped off the elevator and I ran to him almost tackling him as I jumped up and wrapped my arms and legs around him. “Jake!” His name melted off my tongue like a verbal sigh of relief. I was overwhelmed with emotions as my eyes fought back tears and my heart leaped from my chest. There was no doubt that I was happy to see him, but it had only been a few weeks since I had essentially broken his heart. “Why are you here? How are you here?”
“Mac showed up at the Café and made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.” He grinned as I pulled back to look at him, still clinging to him like a koala bear.
“Wait, I just talked to Mac. She told me she’s in Chicago.”
“Well, you didn’t expect her to be honest and ruin the surprise did you?”
Mac wasn’t the best liar and had I called her, I would have known by the tone of her voice that she was lying. Lucky for her I texted. “What was the offer?”
“She said she’d watch the Café for a couple of days if I’d come visit you.”
That didn’t make much sense to me. “And?”
“Okay, she flew me out here first-class and told me there was a ninety percent chance I’d get to beat the living shit out of Quinn.”
“So her plan to help me get Quinn back is for you to beat him into submission?”
“Not exactly––” He looked at me with a devilish grin.
“Then what?”
Before he had a chance to explain the elevator chimed again. What felt like the worst timing in the world to me, made Jake smile from ear to ear. It was Quinn.
“Then this,” Jake said a split second before he clenched his fist in my hair and pressed his mouth to mine. There was nothing friendly about his kiss or the way his other hand grasped my ass holding me tight to his body. My initial instinct was to pull back, but then the lightbulb went on. Thank you, Mac!
I pressed my hands to his cheeks then ran my fingers up through his hair, fisting it to deepen our kiss. Jake carried me to the door I’d left open, making sure to keep his mouth on mine the whole way. “God I’ve missed you,” Jake moaned, breaking our kiss after we passed the threshold. It was a jab to my heart because I didn’t know if he was saying that for Quinn’s sake or because he really meant it. The truth was we had physical chemistry that required no acting. I was only praying Jake didn’t let the lines become too blurred. He reached for the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head while he kicked the door with his foot, but the click of the door latching never sounded.
However, Quinn’s thundering voice did. “Get your fucking hands off her before I break them off your goddamn arms!” he roared.
Jake’s back was to Quinn, and he slid me down his body until I was on my feet then flashed me a sly smile and a wink. I wasn’t sure if it meant I could take it from there because he’d done his part or if it meant he was finally going to take Quinn down like he’d so anxiously been wanting to do for so long. It didn’t matter because I was not waiting to find out.
I stepped past Jake and walked to the door in my bra and skinny jeans. Quinn was explosive: his eyes looked nearly black, his jaw ticked from side to side, and his fists were clenched like he was ready to attack.
“Get out, Quinn. This doesn’t concern you,” I said in a slow, firm voice.
“The fucking hell it doesn’t!” He wasn’t looking at me, he was scowling at Jake, whom I’d imagined by then was turned around and smirking at Quinn, just daring him to come closer.
I jabbed my finger into his chest. “The moment you traipsed that whore past my door and into your condo, you relinquished all rights to have so much as a casual opinion on who I see or what I do. So go find another pathetic bimbo to fuck because you were right, we are over!” I shoved his chest and he stepped back. “So now it’s time for you to take your stubborn ass home and leave me the hell alone!”
My words even shocked me as I stood there breathless. In that moment I wondered if Jake was there for Quinn’s wake-up call or mine. Adler Sage Brecken was a survivor—a strong, intelligent, and independent woman. How had I turned into a doormat for a man who despised me more than he loved me?
Quinn grabbed my arms and pulled me a breath away from his face. “You. Are. Mine!” he seethed into my face.
Jake was on him in a heartbeat clutching his throat and pinning him to the wall. “She’s not anymore,” he gritted between his teeth.
I stepped back because the equivalent of two grenades were about to go off. Quinn grabbed Jake’s arm and twisted out of his grip then landed a quick blow to Jake’s ribs. Jake stood up and held his hands in a fighter’s stance, like he did the time I watched him annihilate his opponent in the ring, Quinn’s stance mirrored his. I recalled part of Quinn’s workout regimen included advanced training in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, but I had never seen him use it.
“You don’t deserve her, you worthless piece of shit,” Jake goaded.
“Well, I’m sure as hell not going to let you have her,” Quinn sneered back.
A cocky smile spread across Jake’s face. “Too late, man, I’ve already had her.”
That was all it took to officially pull the detonator on Quinn, who then rammed into Jake drawing first blood. Then the two became a tangled tornado. Quinn shoved Jake into the wall shattering the glass of a large picture frame. Jake charged at Quinn slamming him into a bookcase, then he continued a relentless sequence of jabs to his abdomen and ribs until Quinn broke loose and tackled him to the ground. I stood frozen and speechless as the fight continued. The dollars in damage to the Grants’ condo continued to escalate as vases, coffee tables, picture frames, and sculptures were destroyed. Both of them had bloodied faces, but neither showed any signs of stopping. As they wrestled and fought their way closer to the large windows, I realized I had to put a stop to it before someone ended up crashing through the window and falling to their certain death.
“Stop it!” I yelled. My heart was racing but they weren’t listening. Jake punched Quinn and he fell backward against the window causing it to crack. Fear overtook all rational thinking as I rushed to stop Jake. I tried to grab his arm as he cocked it down and back ready to give Quinn another blow to his abdomen, but his elbow found my eye and sent my body in the opposite direction and flat on my back.
“Addy!” Jake yelled as he turned around to see what he’d done to me.
“You motherfucker!” Quinn growled as he landed an uppercut to an unsuspecting Jake.
“Addy, oh God, are you okay?” Quinn picked me up amongst the debris and set me on the couch.
“Oh Jesus, Addy—” Jake rushed over to me.
“Back the fuck off!” Quinn yelled as he cupped my cheek with his hand and ghosted his finger over my throbbing eye.
“Just stop, please,” I begged in a strained voice.
My eye felt like it was ready to explode. With a grimace on my face, I looked left to Jake, then right to Quinn. They both had pained expressions on their bloodied faces, but it had nothing to do with their pain, it was mine.
“I’ll get some ice,” Jake said as he stood and walked away.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” Quinn whispered as he kneeled on the floor between my legs, still cupping my face.
“Go, just leave,” I whispered back in a defeated voice.
I pushed his hand away from my face. “Jake may have hit me by accident, but you’re the spiteful bastard who has completely broken me with your hateful words and man-whore ways. I’m not your possession and you can’t claim me just because you don’t want someone else to have me.”
“Addy, I didn’t—”
“Go!” I yelled as Jake came back with the ice.
Quinn stood then he and Jake exchanged volatile scowls for a brief moment, both with clenched fists. Finally, Quinn glanced around the room at the aftermath and then to me once more before his eyes fell to the floor. “It wasn’t what you think … but it doesn’t matter now,” he said with a hardened expression, but a quiet vulnerability to his voice.
He walked out of the condo closing the door behind him, and although I was uncertain of what he meant, he was right. It didn’t matter.
*
Jake held the icepack to my eye as the clenched his teeth with a grimacing smile.
“It’s fine,” I said as my eyes moved across his battered face, “you look much worse.”
“This is nothing, just a few scrapes.” He winked.
The deep cut by his eye did not look like just a scrape. “I should take you for some stitches.”
He laughed. “If I’m still breathing and can stand on my own, then there is no need to take me anywhere. I should go clean up my face. I guarantee it looks worse than it is.” He pulled the ice away from my eye. “You, however are going to have some swelling and nasty coloring for the next week or so.”
Taking the ice from him, I shook my head. “I’ll be fine. It’s my fault anyway.” A wave of emotional despair washed over me, distracting me from the physical pain. My heart felt constricted as I struggled to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry, Jake. You shouldn’t be here. Mac was wrong to send you.”
“I’m the one who should be apologizing. I told you I’d break every bone in his body if he hurt you, and yet he walked out of here on his own two feet. You didn’t mention he’s had training in martial arts.”
“Didn’t I?” My face curled into a wry smile until the tensing of my facial muscles shot a jolt of pain to my eye. I sucked in a breath. “Ouch.”
Pushing my hand with the ice in it back to my eye, he raised his bloodied eyebrow. “No you didn’t. That’s okay, rule number one in fighting: never underestimate your opponent.” He scanned the room. “Do you want me to help clean up before I leave?”
“Where are you going?”
“Mac put me up in a nice room overlooking Times Square. She assumed you might have … other plans tonight. But I can stay––”<
br />
“No, it’s fine. As you can see I have some damage assessing to do before I write out a sizable check to the Grants.”
“Are you sure? I’ll stay if you want me to.” He searched my eyes, maybe looking for some emotion that indicated I needed him, but it wasn’t there.
“Go, enjoy your first-class accommodations. You’ve more than earned it.”
He smiled. “Totally worth it … I actually did it for you and nothing else. But since I’m in New York anyway––”
“Yeah, yeah, just go.”
He stood and stepped over the rubble as he walked to the door.
“Jake?”
The soft, endearing look in his eyes as he turned erased some of the pain. “Yes?”
“Thank you.”
He winked and eased the door shut behind him.
*
The Grants’ great room was in shambles. However, cleaning wasn’t on my mind because my thoughts kept drifting to Quinn and his parting words. It began to eat at me until I knew I wouldn’t be able to move on without knowing. I searched the rubble for my shirt then slipped it over my head before heading out and across the hall to knock on Quinn’s door. A few moments later he opened it. He was still wearing his bloodied, disheveled work suit minus the jacket. His face was mottled with red marks and dried blood and he held a bottle of Scotch in one hand.
“What aren’t you telling me?” I demanded.
“It doesn’t matter. You’ve made your choice.” He turned and walked back inside letting the door start to close behind him.
Shoving the door back open, I marched in behind him. “What choice is that? Jake?”
He shrugged his shoulders with his back to me and lifted the bottle to his mouth.
“Why the nerve of you––” I growled as I stomped up to him and grabbed the bottle from his hand. Before he had time to react, I heaved it at the bar counter where it shattered everywhere. “You call me the love of your life and tell me you would lay the fucking world at my feet if I asked you to! Then, you have the nerve to nail me to the cross because of my past and blame me for doing exactly what your mother asked me to do. Then, when I still don’t give up on us, you bring a string of whores into our bed and fuck them while I’m on the other side of the door!” My emotions exploded as I screamed at him, but he just stood there with a blank expression, numb to my words.
