by Claire Adams
I felt a knot in my chest come undone when they all laughed. My parents were rarely home and had not been since high school. I realized that was one of the reasons I had not broken up with Sienna when things got bad. No matter how they felt about me, the Thomas family had been the only family I had for a long time. To see them happy and together unlocked a deep longing.
Quinn and I waited until her parents had left, then gathered up her overnight bag for Vegas. "Are you okay?" she asked.
"No. I mean, yes. It's just weird to, I don't know, not be hated by your parents," I said.
"I know what you mean. I feel like they are finally seeing me, instead of just this knockoff version of Sienna. It feels strange, but good."
I opened Quinn’s car door for her. By the time I got into the driver's seat, my tongue felt heavy. The words I wanted to say were like lead. Quinn chatted about Caesar's Palace, where we would be staying, and the tournament. She did not notice my struggle to speak.
"Funny what your father said about the little white chapel, isn't it?" I finally managed to say.
"Yes. Especially since it is where he and my mother got married," Quinn said.
I swerved the car just a little. "What?"
"Oh, they had a big, white wedding where everything was perfect, but two nights before, they drove to Vegas and got married. I always thought it was so romantic," she said.
We pulled onto The Strip, but I started to recalculate my route so we could drive past the iconic wedding chapel. My heart was hammering because I knew that was the final piece that would make me feel whole.
"Quinn, I know this is out of the blue, but-"
"Owen, pull over! I think that man is having a heart attack!" Quinn said. She grabbed the wheel and forced me to pull over.
Tourist drivers went crazy with their horns, but Quinn jumped out of the car and ran to the side of the fallen man. Within seconds, there were sirens coming from two directions. The ambulances moved slowly through the awestruck tourists.
Quinn ignored all the chaos. She was bent over the man doing chest compressions. After a short eternity, she checked his pulse and leaned back on her heels. By the time the EMTs pulled their equipment out of the ambulance, the man had lifted his hand. He reached for his tearful wife's fingers, and she thanked Quinn over and over again.
Two EMTs loaded the man into the ambulance, while a third stopped to talk to Quinn. Her face lit up in recognition and I felt a sharp stab of jealousy. I walked over just as he handed her a card.
"Feel free to call me anytime," the EMT said.
"Thanks, I will," Quinn said.
#
I never knew what people meant when they said someone "glowed" – not until I got back into the car with Quinn. It was hard to concentrate on the cluster of bad Vegas traffic. A bright smile played around her lips and her eyes sparkled at everything without actually seeing it. I worried that was what love looked like. I felt that way when I looked at her sometimes.
"You're pretty happy for a woman who just saw a serious heart attack," I commented.
Quinn blinked at my terse tone. "He survived. That is seriously good news. That makes me happy."
"Okay, but this seems like a different kind of happy," I said. "Does it have anything to do with that cute EMT giving you his card? What did he say? You can call him anytime?"
"Owen Redd, you realize you sound jealous, right?"
"You look like if I opened the window you would float right out. So, if you're not happy about the EMT hitting on you, then what is it?"
"For the record, he did not hit on me," Quinn said. "Well, maybe he flirted, but he was giving me his business card."
My heart thumped and I realized Quinn had just saved a man's life. She had jumped out of the car before I pulled to a complete stop and ran over to help. Not only that, but she had revived him and kept him alive until help arrived. It was amazing.
"You know, that's not such a bad idea," I said.
"What's not a bad idea? Helping a man having a heart attack?"
"Yes, but I mean working as an EMT. You have some background with the nursing classes you already took and you clearly have a talent for it. It’s something you really should consider, Quinn," I said.
She crossed her arms tightly. "Well, aren't you just full of career advice," she said.
"Come on, I'm just trying to help. I mean, you've quit college and are searching for something to do. You should at least think about it."
"Think about it? As if I'm not thinking about my own future? As if I'm just waiting around for someone to tell me what to do?"
I could not believe what a detour our conversation had taken. I dug my fingernails into the steering wheel and kept going. "You're back living with your parents, and I know that's not where you really want to be, no matter how great they are being. It was just a good idea."
"Naturally, it’s a good idea because you came up with it," she said. "There's no way I could ever look at my own life and make my own decision, is there? That would just be crazy."
"Whoa, this conversation is what is crazy," I said.
Quinn stopped talking to me.
I drove into the parking ramp behind Caesar's Palace and started circling the levels for a parking space. Her glow was gone and, in its place, her chin was rigid. By the fourth level, I realized I had not even asked her what she had in mind. Her father had said she was studying for something, but I had forgotten to ask.
"Quinn, I'm sorry. I was just making an observation. You were amazing out there and you probably saved that man's life. Could you ever see yourself doing that for a living?" I asked.
She softened as we finally found a parking spot and I turned the car off. "I'm sorry too. I'm just sick and tired of people making decisions for me. And this is a huge decision, one that I'm really proud of, so I want to make sure that it is all mine."
I said a quick prayer that she was not leaving to go abroad and then asked, "So, when do I get to hear all about it?"
Quinn laughed. "Well, I'm annoyed because you already pretty much guessed it. I've been taking my EMT training course. I'm ready to take the certification soon. That EMT gave me his card so I would know a good company to sign up with once I got my certification."
I leaned my head against the steering wheel and just barely missed the horn. "As if I didn't feel like a jealous idiot before," I said. "Here I am giving you sage advice about a career you are already pursuing. Is this what life is going to be like from now on? You always one step ahead of me?"
"First one to the room wins?" Quinn asked. She jumped out of the car.
I caught her by the trunk and pulled her into a swift kiss. "That is for saving a man's life, and this is for making my life extraordinary."
"What, no kiss for saving you from jail?"
"Sure, but I don't think your father and I are on kissing terms quite yet," I said.
She laughed and pulled out her rolling suitcase. "Wait, before we go in, what did you want to talk to me about?"
"What?" I was suddenly very careful about checking the zippers on my luggage.
"In the car, before I made you stop. You were saying something and it sounded kind of important. What did you want to talk about?" Quinn asked.
"Oh," I said. "I just wanted to know if you want to join me for the competitor’s cocktail hour later on. I know you said you changed to the fun tournament, but you can come as my date."
"I'd love to!"
I followed her light stride into Caesar's Palace and into the opulent lobby. I could not spare the marble statues a single look. All I could think about was Quinn. It was crazy, but she still did not know how much I loved her. I had almost proposed in the car, but she still smiled at me the same as she always had.
It was a relief when my clan members materialized out of the crowd near the registration counter. "Did you hear?" Artemis asked.
Alan shook his head. "Of course he didn't hear. He's been a little busy."
"Oh, then let me, please?" Ton
y asked.
Milan pushed him aside. "No, this is just too good. I'll tell him."
"Tell me what?" I asked.
"Anya has been barred from playing," Artemis, Tony, and Milan said together.
I turned to Alan. "What are they talking about?" I asked.
"Turns out the Green Witch Ayaan is known for more than just her shady plays against our girl Arrowa, here," Alan said. "She was cited by the tournament organizers as 'play that does not befit the tournament spirit.'"
"She went on a tirade about the freedom that Dark Flag permits and how that is the whole point of the game," Artemis said. "Really, it just turned into a wicked witch monologue. Ended up sounding like some serious jealousy."
"She railed against you as limiting the game's potential with your moralistic overtones and clan hierarchy," Alan said. "Some people agree with her, but the major consensus is that Dark Flag has turned out to be a mirror for what we wish society to become, not the way we fear it is heading."
"Don't worry," Milan said. He patted my cheek. "You came out looking like a hero."
"Still," I said. "I hope it’s enough to offset the whole police arrest thing." The night flashed through my memory again and I reached for Quinn's hand. All I cared about is that she forgave me and we could move past it.
Quinn squeezed my hand. "It’s a great story now," she said. "The hero betrayed by someone close to him, tricked by a beautiful but underhanded rival, and finally cleared of all wrongdoing."
"By a true savior," I said. I pulled Quinn close to me and kissed her on the lips.
"Well, it’s about time," Milan said.
"Oh, I'm so glad! Didn't I tell you, Alan? I told you," Artemis said. She elbowed Alan sharply in the ribs.
"I know, I know," Alan said. "I mentioned the whole jealousy thing. It’s not like Anya was the only one that noticed how Owen looked at her."
Quinn buried her face in my chest. "Her?" she asked. "I'm standing right here."
"Yes, you are," I said. "Clan, I think it is about time I introduce you to my girlfriend, Quinn Thomas."
Their good-natured jokes and comments faded. The whole gold spectacle of the Caesar's Palace lobby faded, too. For a moment, there was just Quinn and I.
I held my breath. I should have discussed it with her before, but it just seemed right. I hoped it was right. I hoped for more, but this was the first step and I did not want to stumble over it.
"I'll just go get my room key," Quinn said. She waved to everyone and went off to the counter.
I played it casual and chatted with the other players for a few more minutes and then caught up with Quinn as she headed for the elevators. Somehow, in the immense hotel full of people, we managed to get an elevator all to ourselves.
"Too much?" I asked. "I know we didn't talk about it, but now at least you know how I feel."
Quinn shook her head. "Owen, this is a big tournament for you, and the last thing I want to do is get in your way. Whatever we are does not have to be part of your public image. I know you fought hard to get where you are and I don't want to cause any controversy for you."
I dropped my bag and took both her hands. "That's all in the past. And now that you are moving on with your career and Dark Flag as your hobby, there is no reason why I can't tell everyone who you are and what you mean to me."
Quinn went still, her hands warm in mine. "What do I mean to you?"
I had to kiss her three times before the words would come. "Everything," I said. "Quinn, I love you."
The look in her chocolate brown eyes melted all my fears. Quinn reached up on tiptoe and kissed me again. "And I love you."
I had just wrapped my arms tightly around her waist to delve deeper into the kiss when the elevator doors opened.
"There you are!" a voice called.
Mr. And Mrs. Thomas appeared. "We were just knocking on your door. I thought you would have checked in by now. Don't you have a game to be getting ready for?" Mrs. Thomas asked.
"We don't really know how these things work, but we read the schedule," Mr. Thomas said. He shook my hand. "Seems like you're top billing on a lot of the events."
"See, I told you he was a professional gamer," Quinn said.
"Quinn told me the story about you and the little white chapel," I said. The words just jumped out and I could not take them back.
Mrs. Thomas laughed. "Oh, it was so romantic. Mostly because it took all the pressure off the big to-do we had planned. It would have killed my family not to have had the big white wedding, so it was fun to run off on our own right before."
Quinn took my hand and squeezed hard. "I always thought it was romantic, too. I mean, you two had planned that big wedding for months and months. You really knew what you wanted."
I took a deep breath. Quinn was right. I knew what I wanted and there was no reason to rush it. We were together, our hands linked, and her parents smiling at us.
"So, I did a little check up on your playing, and it appears there are lots of bets to be made," Mr. Thomas said. "Better get down to the book before you get started."
"Betting against me?" I asked.
"No," Mr. Thomas said, "I always bet on family."
Chapter Twenty-Four
Epilogue
I focused on the wine-colored carpet to keep my eyes from tearing up. The bouquet of white roses was fragrant and heavy in my hands, and I turned to study the petals as the pastor began talking.
"No matter what family, friends, or life has planned for you, there is nothing like letting love make the decision. It just feels right," he said. "Sure, some people call it spur of the moment and some people say that only fools rush in, but when I see two people as in love as you are, I know there is no room for doubt."
I heard my mother sniffle and I finally looked up. She was stunning in the white satin dress we had found in a small boutique inside the Venetian. My father wore a dove gray suit and a smile so bright he looked like a new man.
"Of course, a few decades of successful marriage and grown children also help to remove doubt," the pastor said. My parents laughed.
Owen laughed too. He stood next to my father as his best man. As my parents began to renew their vows, he winked at me and my heart soared.
Earlier, my father had joked that Owen was funding their second Vegas wedding. It had been two years since my father won a cool 3,000 dollars betting on Owen in the Dark Flag tournament. Since then, "bet on family" had become our family motto.
We threw rice as my parents walked arm in arm down the aisle. They disappeared to have their photographs taken outside. I moved to follow, but Owen grabbed my arm.
"I know you have this whole big backyard white wedding plan," Owen said, "and I love it, but we could always just get married now. I mean, you haven't even set a date yet. The way you've been working, I'm going to have to marry you on the side of the road or in the back of an ambulance."
"March," I said. "Just after your birthday. How does that sound?"
Owen kissed me, and I could feel his warm smile against my lips.
"Where are our witnesses?" my father called. He smiled broadly as we jumped apart. "Come on, now, you aren't thinking about following in our footsteps, are you? I thought you were much more independent than that."
"Oh, she is, believe me," Owen said.
We joined my parents outside. Traffic driving by honked congratulations as my parents posed under the sign. Finally, we raised plastic champagne flutes in a toast.
"To family – those lost, found, and forgiven," my father said.
"And to a happy future, together," I said, finally feeling whole and happy in the hot Vegas sunshine.
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PROTECTOR BOX SET
The Complete Series
By Claire Adams
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, place
s and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 Claire Adams
PROTECTOR #1
“Absolutely ridiculous,” I muttered into my phone as I stomped across campus on the way to my first class of the day. “This is outrageous, Father! I don’t need a stupid bodyguard to follow me around all the time!”
“Ava, you are being unreasonable,” Joseph Klein admonished. “Your mother and I feel it is a necessary precaution if you want to stay in school. Your safety is our primary concern.”
“But lots of girls have ex-boyfriends who are idiots and their parents don’t hire bodyguards!” I yelled in exasperation. I was embarrassed that my parents had gone behind my back and hired this blockheaded mercenary to follow me around campus when I had assured them that there was no threat. “Who is this meathead anyway? How do you know he’s even capable of protecting me?”
“Young lady, Mr. Flynn is a former Navy SEAL who has seen and done more in his life than you could ever dream of,” my father replied. “He was recommended by a business colleague who used him to protect his son while he was on a study abroad session in Egypt, and they got along famously.”
“Oh, big whoop,” I blurted. “So he’s buddy-buddy with some kid who spent a summer looking at sand and pyramids, and suddenly you think this is a great idea to emulate? That all kids should have bodyguards?”
“We don’t trust Dominic,” came my father’s no-nonsense response. “End of argument, young lady. If you want to stay in school, then you accept that you will need protection until we deem it safe.”
“Oh my God!” I cried. “I’m not 10 years old! I’m so sick of the way you treat me like I’m fragile. Why didn’t I have a say in this? You probably hired some old military guy who wishes he was back in Iraq, not guarding some college student who doesn’t need protection! Do I have to talk to him?”
