by Linda Verji
“Are you still seeing him?” Kendra broke into Brooklyn’s frantic wanderings.
“Who?”
“Quin,” Kendra clarified. “Are you still seeing him?”
“Of course not!” Brooklyn knew that was what Kendra wanted her to say.
Just then the waiter stopped at their table. He placed the bill-book on the table before walking away. After perusing their bill, Kendra reached for her bag and withdrew her wallet. As she tucked money within the book, she asked Brooklyn, “Are you still at the same motel?”
Brooklyn nodded and Kendra extracted a few bills from her wallet and handed them to her. “This should be enough to tide you over for another week or two. How’s the job search going?”
“I have an interview tomorrow.” Injecting enthusiasm into her voice Brooklyn said, “I think this might be the one.”
In truth, Brooklyn wasn’t even searching. As soon as they made up Erica would hire her again, so there was no point in looking. Besides who else would hire her when she hadn’t even graduated from college? She’d quit her computer engineering course to be a business woman like Erica. In fact as soon as she learnt the ropes at Strippers & Heels, she was sure that Erica would invite her to be a partner. It would be their company.
“I’m sure it will go well. Just remember to be confident,” Kendra advised. Though her condescending voice pricked, Brooklyn nodded. Kendra looked at her watch and stood. “I have to go but I’ll call you later to check up, okay?”
Minutes after Kendra left, Brooklyn stood and leaving her half-eaten salad on the table, exited the restaurant. The moment she got to Quin’s apartment her first stop was his laptop. Hacking her way past his new password was as easy as pie. With a few clicks she was in and she logged into Facebook in search of Reggie. She wanted to know what was going on between him and Erica.
Brooklyn sighed in frustration when she realized that most of his information was only available to friends. She’d never friended him because was just Kendra’s brother, and thus not worth a second glance. Well, now was as good a time as any to start being friends. After sending him a friend request, she logged off her own account then keyed in Erica’s email address and logged into Erica’s Facebook.
There were several messages from Quin in Erica’s inbox but Brooklyn ignored them. Instead she searched for any from Reggie. She was disappointed to find many cutesy messages between the two of them. One of them said,
I’m serious about the tattoo. You’ll have to let me see it one of these days…
I miss you so much…
It sent a stab of anger through Brooklyn. Why were they even exchanging messages? Reggie was hers.
CHAPTER 12
“I still think we should’ve dropped you first.” Reggie tucked a strand of Erica’s hair behind her ear.
“Your place is closer to the airport,” Erica reminded him as she stood on tiptoes to touch her lips to his. It earned her a loud hoot from the car behind her. Without turning, she moved her hand to her back and flipped her middle finger at the occupants of the car. Pressing another kiss to Reggie’s lips, she said, “Besides it’s late and you’ve got an early morning.”
Reggie groaned. “Don’t remind me.”
Running her palm over his brow to soothe the frown line, she asked, “You’ll come over tomorrow after work, right?”
“I’m not sure. It depends on-”
Nico cut into Reggie’s words with another blare of the car horn and a shouted, “Erica, get your ass into this car. You and Playboy can make kissy faces tomorrow.”
Both Reggie and Erica ignored him. Erica drew her lips into a pout. “Pleeeease.”
Reggie chuckled before dipping his head for another kiss.
“I am blasting you two on Facebook,” Kendra hollered. Reggie and Erica’s lips arched in duplicate smiles, but instead of withdrawing, he slanted his lips over hers harder. The toe-curling kiss he gave her left her wishing Kendra and Nico weren’t around. By the time he pulled away she was still too dazed to even care about the obvious snapping of pictures behind them.
His breath glanced over her lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay.” That was her cue to leave but for some reason she could only stare at his lips.
His eyes lit in an amused smiled. “Bye, Erica.”
“Bye.” She still didn’t move. It was his gentle grab of her shoulders and turning of her towards Kendra’s car that finally got her moving.
As soon as she was in the car, Kendra assailed her with questions. “When did that happen?”
Erica refused to answer her questions in front of Nico’s knowing gaze and constant kissing sounds. Later that night, Kendra planted herself in Erica’s bed and refused to go to her own room until she heard all the gossip.
“You don’t mind, do you?” Erica asked after giving Kendra a shortened version of what had happened over the weekend. Even as she asked, nervousness clawed at her stomach. She hadn’t even thought about how this would affect her relationship with Kendra.
“Why would I mind? I’ve been waiting for you to get together since forever.” Kendra grinned. “You’re going to be my sister-in-law. Oh my-”
Erica lifted her palm to stem Kendra’s flow of words. “Reggie and I aren’t even in a relationship.”
“Pooh.” Kendra waved Erica’s words away with a roll of her eyes. “If you convince him to propose soon, we can even have our weddings together. You know…”
Knowing better than to argue with Kendra when she was mid-fantasy, Erica tuned out of the conversation. And they were just that – fantasies. Reggie was a good guy, there was no doubt about it. But he was a guy, bearing the afflictions that came with that particular condition. Ask her father. Ask Jesse from high school. Ask Terrence who’d only lasted a week. Ask Quin.
The cheating gene was attached to the Y chromosome. Maybe someday Erica could grin and bear it. Maybe someday she could have a relationship without giving her whole heart. So that when that man broke a part of it, she’d still have some pieces intact. But now was not the time.
Guilt stabbed at her, reminding her of her promise she’d made to Reggie.
Promise me you’ll think about it and that when you’re finally ready, I’ll be the one you think of.
She hadn’t promised to be ready, she reminded her conscience. She hoped that once both she and Reggie had quenched their desire whatever was going on between them would die. That he’d get so bored his eyes would wander, and like every other man he’d find someone else to be interested in.
Yes, that’s what she wanted.
So why did it feel like someone had stuck a needle in the bed of her fingernail?
Brooklyn’s upper lip curled in disgust as her gaze centered on the white stick. This was the fourth test she’d taken, and she still refused to believe it.
No, she couldn’t be.
She couldn’t be pregnant with Quin’s child.
Not now.
“Brooklyn.” Quin pounded on the bathroom door. “Get out here now.”
She ignored his whining. He’d been in a horrible mood for the last three days because of that picture on Facebook; the picture where Erica and Reggie were kissing. But when compared to Brooklyn’s own fury, his anger was nothing. Brooklyn was irritated beyond rational thought.
Reggie had proved he was in love with her by accepting her friend request. So why was he kissing Erica?
“What the fuck are you doing in there?” Quin’s voice grated on her nerves, stirring up her irritation. Brooklyn tore open another box and extracted another pregnancy test. Maybe fifth was the charm. There was a loud thud as something hit the door. Undisturbed, she sat on the toilet and peed on the stick.
“Open this fucking door.” The door was too sturdy to give in to Quin’s vehement thumps. She set the pregnancy test on the edge of the sink, watching it intently. Unfortunately, Quin’s antics were ruining her concentration. He kept pounding on the door.
“Jesus,” she huffed in irr
itation as she walked to the door and flung it open. He was standing there looking like the idiot he was. She yelled, “What the hell do you want?”
Quin’s eyes widened in obvious shock and he took a step back. Before today she’d never raised her voice to him. She’d just gone along with whatever he wanted. She didn’t understand why she’d done it. There was nothing about him that inspired obedience. He was a small man with an ego bigger than his brain.
He recovered quickly enough and pushed his way into the bathroom, the pungent stink of his cologne scratching Brooklyn’s senses. His gaze scanning the small bathroom he asked, “What are you doing in here?”
Her face screwed in a mask of irritation, Brooklyn watched him.
God, she hated everything about him.
From the stringy blond hair, the pale eyes, the grotesque deformity he called a dimple… ugh! It made her want to throw something at his face.
His gaze landed on the pregnancy test. “What’s this? Are you pregnant?” His shocked eyes turned to meet hers.
What she wouldn’t do for him to disappear.
“I asked you a question.” He stalked towards her, his eyes turning a cold blue as anger filled them. “Are you pregnant?”
She didn’t answer, not even when he locked his fingers around her throat and pushed her hard against the marble counter. Ignoring the sharp edge biting into her back, Brooklyn stared at him steadily. When the hard slap came, pain cruised through her face and tears jumped to her eyes but she didn’t flinch. Her gaze snapped back to meet his.
If he disappeared, her life would be so much easier. Her hand slipped over the cold marble counter to connect with the blow-drier behind her.
“You did it deliberately, didn’t you?” There was a cruel tilt to his mouth as his palm cracked over her face again. “I told you I’d kill you.”
Not before I kill you first. Her movement was as deliberate as it was deadly. Her fingers closed around the dryer’s handle and she swung. There was a loud crack as it connected with his skull.
Quin’s grip on her neck slackened, his eyes widened then rolled back as he crumbled. Brooklyn shoved him and he fell backwards. Another loud snap reverberated in the bathroom as his skull connected with the ceramic bathtub and he slid to the floor.
He lay still, his prone body spread out on the cold bathroom.
His head was tilted at an awkward angle as blood spread around it like a halo of evil. His eyes were wide open and lifeless. Even to a blind man it would’ve been obvious that Quin was dead.
Brooklyn smiled.
CHAPTER 13
“Erica.” Someone shook her shoulder hard. “Erica.”
“Huh?” She came awake with a start and her eyes snapped open to meet Kendra’s concerned gaze. “What?”
Kendra was quiet for a moment. The silence along with the fact that she was fully dressed in jeans, a t-shirt and a bomber jacket while the clock next to the bed said it was only three a.m. was enough to tie a knot in Erica’s stomach.
Erica sat up. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Quin.”
The knot tightened. The last time Quin had turned up, he’d come with trouble nipping at his heels. “Is he here again? What did he do?”
Another long pause then, “He’s dead.”
“Quin’s dead?” Erica repeated, even though the words hadn’t quite registered yet. After all someone who only hours before had been bursting her phone with text messages couldn’t just blink out of existence.
“I’m sorry.” Kendra sat next to Erica and slung her arm around her friend’s shoulder.
“What happened?” Considering, she was still an uncomprehending daze, Erica was surprised she was even capable of speech.
“I don’t know,” Kendra said. “Nico called a few minutes ago with the news.”
Erica opened her mouth to say something, but no sound came from her parted lips. Quin’s dead. Shock raced its way through her veins like icy water.
“They’ve taken Brooklyn in for questioning,” Kendra continued. “I’m on my way there.”
“I’ll come with you.” Erica’s legs were as heavy as solid lead as she slid them to the carpeted floor.
“Are you sure?” Kendra’s gaze was tempered with concern.
“I’m coming with you.” Erica’s tone was devoid of any emotion, mostly because she didn’t really know what to feel. How were you supposed to feel when an ex who had hurt you worse than any other person in your life, died?
Her movements were mechanical as she threw open her closet then with icy fingers picked out a t-shirt, jeans and boots before dressing.. She picked her phone from the bedside table and switched it on, only to find several text and voicemail messages from Quin. She switched the phone off, unable to bring herself to listen to them.
She had no idea why she was going to the station, only that she had to. Like a puppet controlled by unseen strings, she followed Kendra out to the car before slumping in the front seat beside her. She stared blankly out the window at the complexes and homes of their neighborhood that gave way to shops, cafes then to the flow of the freeway.
As they glided along to the few cars on the freeway, cheerless thoughts flitted in and out of her mind. Images of the first day she’d met Quin; how he’d been so charismatic, so alive. Was it possible that he was now lying lifeless in a morgue?
As they edged closer to the police station, she began to convince herself that it wasn’t true. This was a bad prank, probably perpetuated by Quin himself to get her attention. They’d get to the station and someone would apologize for alarming them unnecessarily and that Quin was fine. Yes, that’s what they’d say.
At last Kendra slicked her car into the gloomy car-park in front of the functional building that served as the police department. A rush of nausea rose in Erica’s throat as they hustled their way into the building. She fought it down, willing herself to keep it together even as the hollowness in her chest steadily expanded with each step. Despite the early hour, the precinct was alive with movement. Uniformed police milled around the open space, a few drunks, a homeless guy, a hooker or two…Reggie.
He was seated on one of the benches, his elbows propped on his knees and his gaze wandering the room. The moment he spotted them, he stood up. Somehow Reggie’s presence scattered her denial.
Quin was dead.
All the hate she’d felt for her ex-fiancé faded in a mist of sadness and regret. She should’ve been kinder to him. She should’ve taken his calls. She should’ve forgiven him. Now she’d never have the chance to do any of that. He was dead.
By the time Reggie reached them, Erica was shaking. He folded her in his arms holding her while the tornado of jumbled emotions fighting for dominance inside her raged. If she could summon tears, she would’ve cried for Quin yet somehow her tear-ducts seemed frozen. She didn’t know when Reggie moved, but she found herself seated between he and Kendra on the bench, her head buried in the crook of his neck.
Nico found them that way – huddled together in silent solidarity. Gone was his usual merry persona, replaced by a formality enhanced by the black shirt, slack and gun holstered to his shoulder. “They brought him in at two a.m. I already did the identification.” he said crisply.
Erica asked, “It’s him?”
“It’s him,” Nico confirmed.
It felt as if all the breath had been sucked from her body with a giant straw and Erica had the sudden crazy desire to laugh. This didn’t make sense. After all the grief Quin had given her, surely she should be dancing on his grave or something. Instead the fresh waves of sadness pounded at her suffocating her.
While Kendra and Reggie questioned Nico, she nodded along to his answers, but she wasn’t really listening. She vaguely heard him explain that Brooklyn had hit Quin or something like that, but it didn’t really register. It felt like he was speaking a foreign language.
“We’re questioning Brooklyn,” Nico explained, “but considering the situation we’re probably going to hold her
until we get direction from the DA.”
Realizing there was nothing they could do for Brooklyn, Erica, Kendra and Reggie exited the station at around five a.m. Reggie insisted on driving Erica home and she sat huddled into herself for the trip back, grateful that he made no attempt at conversation. All he did was call in to work and say that he wasn’t coming in. They spent the day together.
Brooklyn was released the next day after the DA chose not to press charges. She walked into the apartment after Kendra who was wheeling in her suitcase. Erica’s immediate impression was that time hadn’t been kind to the other woman. Her hair was bunched messily above her head, while the oversized t-shirt she wore only emphasized her severe loss of weight.
She walked with a slight stoop, her arms crossed defensively over her stomach while she kept her eyes downcast. She only lifted her head to mumble a ‘hi’ to Erica and Reggie before her gaze quickly darted back to the floor. But even that brief glance was enough to reveal the eyes shadowed with sadness and fatigue.
It was enough to draw sympathy even from the most hardened of hearts and even though Erica was pissed off that Kendra had moved her back into their apartment without asking her, she didn’t say anything – until later.
“She didn’t have anywhere else to go,” Kendra explained later that night as they sat on Erica’s bed. Brooklyn had long gone to sleep in her old bedroom.
“You should’ve asked me,” Erica reprimanded.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
After a few more ‘sorry’ and ‘I’ll make it up to you’, Kendra filled Erica in on what had really happened between Brooklyn and Quin. Her descriptions of the kind of emotional and physical abused Quin had put Brooklyn through were bile-raising.
“She’s lying,” Erica defended Quin. “He wasn’t the kind of man to beat a woman.”
“You’ve forgotten that he hit me?” Kendra reminded her. “I don’t think she’s lying. And have you seen the marks on her neck?”
Erica had seen them and regardless of how duplicitous Brooklyn was, there was no way she could’ve put those marks on herself.
