True to her word, Quinn took Xandy to West Hollywood the next day. They walked around the shops and ate lunch at Alma, a fairly well-known restaurant in what is called WeHo, short for West Hollywood. There were plenty of pictures taken. Most of the pictures featured Xandy front and center, but with Quinn always just a couple of steps from her, her eyes constantly looking around.
At lunch they talked about the different people walking by.
“She’s a lesbian?” Xandy asked, in hushed tones, looking at a woman that had walked by them, giving Quinn the eye. Quinn responded by winking and smiling.
“I hope so.”
When Xandy grimaced, Quinn laughed out loud. “She was, don’t worry.”
“That’s mean,” Xandy told Quinn, giving her best pouty look, but spoiling it with a grin.
“Uh-huh,” Quinn said, winking.
That was the picture that Valerie Henning received from a number of her friends the very next morning. One of her friends sent it with the caption, Is this where Quinn’s been lately? That had Valerie flinging her phone across the room.
Less than an hour later, she showed up at Xandy’s front door.
When Xandy answered the door, having seen who it was, Valerie was in what Quinn would call “full star trip mode.” She wore black leather pants that were skin tight, and a cropped tank top that exposed a fair amount of tanned and toned skin, as well as her tattoo of a panther ready to pounce; it said a lot about Valerie’s current mood.
“Hi,” Xandy said, unaware of Valerie’s current frame of mind, “you’re Valerie, right?”
“Where’s Quinn?” Valerie demanded.
Xandy’s eyes widened at Valerie’s tone and rudeness. It took her a minute to respond.
“Um,” Xandy stammered, “she’s in her room.”
“Yours?” Valerie practically spat.
“What?” Xandy said, both stunned and terrified by the question.
Surely Valerie couldn’t know that she had a thing for Quinn…
When Xandy didn’t respond further, Valerie made a rude sound in the back of her throat, and stormed by the girl and into the house. She looked around, then strode down the hallway, her dark hair flying behind her. Xandy followed at what she considered a safe distance.
Valerie stuck her head in the first open door she came to and saw Quinn sitting on the bed there. The sound of Valerie’s boot heels on the hardwood floor had alerted Quinn.
“Jesus Val, what’re you doin’ here?” Quinn asked.
Valerie walked straight over to the bed climbing onto it, and straddling Quinn’s outstretched legs. Leaning forward she kissed Quinn passionately. At first, Quinn responded to the kiss, her hands grasping at Valerie’s bare midriff. Then she recalled herself and pulled her head back, disengaging Valerie’s mouth from hers.
“Val, I can’t,” Quinn said, moving her hands from Val’s back to her shoulders to gently push her away.
Before Quinn could react, Valerie’s hand grabbed her by the throat; her nails that were always filed to points, bit into her skin and drew blood.
“You’re fucking her, aren’t you?” Valerie growled.
Quinn had to contain the instinct that would have had her doing some serious damage to Valerie. Instead she narrowed her eyes dangerously.
“Move your fucking hand, Val,” she growled, “or you won’t be using it for a month.”
“Tell me if you’re fucking her,” Valerie responded, eyes blazing.
Quinn reached up between them, putting her thumb around Valerie’s wrist and began to apply pressure.
“Don’t think for a second that I can’t break it,” Quinn said, her voice still low.
Valerie held on as long as she could, but had to let go of Quinn’s throat or she knew Quinn would do exactly what she was threatening. Yanking her hand out of Quinn’s hand, she rubbed her wrist, shooting daggers at Quinn, but moving off of her and kneeling on the bed next to where Quinn sat.
Quinn reached up and gingerly touched the punctures on her neck. As she pulled back her fingers and saw the blood, she threw a nasty look at Valerie.
“Are you fucking crazy?!” she yelled, her green eyes points of fire.
Valerie looked immediately contrite, but she still had a bone to pick and she wasn’t letting it go that easily. Pulling out her phone, she pulled up the picture that was burned into her brain, then shoved the phone in Quinn’s face.
“What the fuck is this?” Valerie asked accusing.
Quinn had to pull her head back to keep from having the iPhone smacked her in the face, then she narrowed her eyes to look at the picture.
“Oh, Jesus fecking Christ, is this what’s got you all hepped up?” Quinn asked, disbelieving.
“That’s not you?”
“Oh Jesus Val, wind yer neck in here, we were having lunch, she was doing shopping. I am her fecking bodyguard, I go where she goes.”
“And she just happened to go to WeHo?”
“It’s a restaurant Val, not a brothel.”
Valerie looked back at Quinn, her look fierce. Quinn looked back at her, passively. There were a few long minutes where the two stared at each other. Finally the fight left Valerie, and she dropped her head, shaking it.
“I’m sorry,” she said, sounding miserable.
Quinn said nothing, her expression telling Valerie that she should be sorry.
“It’s just that I haven’t seen you for like two weeks,” Valerie said, tears in her eyes, “and I’ve missed you so much, and then I saw these pictures. All my friends were asking where you’ve been… and then I see this… and…”
Quinn watched the performance unmoved. Valerie was an actress, and Quinn knew she could turn on the water works on command.
Valerie noted that Quinn wasn’t responding, so she moved forward, taking Quinn’s face in her hands.
“I just love you so much…” Valerie said, moving to kiss Quinn.
She found Quinn’s lips a lot less welcoming this time.
Sitting back her eyes searched Quinn’s. “Please come to dinner tonight at my place. So we can talk, okay?”
Quinn knew she needed to get Valerie out of there, hopefully before there was a big ugly scene between her and Xandy.
Blowing her breath out she said, “Fine, I’ll see you tonight.”
Valerie’s smile was brilliant. “Great!” she said, moving to stand. “Let’s say eight o’clock?”
“Okay,” Quinn said.
Valerie nodded, then turned to leave. Quinn watched her go, and just shook her head.
Valerie didn’t notice Xandy who stood in the doorway to her room as she left. Xandy had heard everything though. Xandy waited until she heard the front door close and then went to lock the door. Then she turned around, seeing Quinn walk across the hall to the bathroom. Xandy walked down the hall after her. When she got to the bathroom she could see that Quinn was looking at the marks on her neck from Valerie’s nails. She heard Quinn mutter, “Bitch…”
“Quinn?” Xandy queried from the doorway.
Quinn glanced up at her in the mirror, then turned around. That’s when Xandy could see the wounds on Quinn’s neck.
“Oh my God…” Xandy said, walking forward, her eyes on Quinn’s neck.
“It’s okay.”
Xandy looked pained, but nodded her head.
“Look, I’m gonna have Mackie come by tonight,” Quinn said, turning back to the mirror and wetting a washcloth to wipe the blood off her neck. “I need to go to Val’s. Is that okay?”
Xandy nodded. “Okay.”
Later that evening, Xandy had to fight to contain her jealous feelings when Quinn walked out of her bedroom, wearing all black, including a long sleeve button up shirt and Harley Davidson boots. She looked really good. But she’s going to go have sex with Valerie, you idiot, her mind told her.
“You look great,” Xandy said, smiling up at Quinn as she stood in front of her. And oh my God you smell amazing! her brain wanted to add.
“Th
anks. Okay, so Mackie is outside. If you need anything just let him know. He’ll come in to check on you every hour or so, okay?” She handed Xandy a piece of paper. “That’s Mackie’s cell phone. If you need him, you call him… if you need me, you call, okay?”
Xandy nodded, thinking, Could you just not go in the first place? But she knew she couldn’t say that, so she said, “Have fun,” mentally rolling her eyes at her overly cheery tone.
Quinn grinned. “I may not be back until late.”
Don’t go, said Xandy’s heart. “Okay,” her mouth said instead.
Three hours later, Xandy was surprised to hear Quinn’s boot heels on the wood floor in the hallway. Xandy was in her bed reading. She waited to see if Quinn would come in, but she didn’t. Finally, Xandy couldn’t stand it anymore, so she got out of bed, walked out of her room, and cautiously stuck her head into Quinn’s room. She was surprised to see Quinn sitting on her bed. Her boots and shirt were on the floor, but otherwise she was still dressed. She had her knees up toward her chest and her arms draped over her knees, her head was leaned back against the headboard of the bed, her eyes were closed.
“Quinn?” Xandy queried softly.
Quinn’s head dropped to look at her. “Hey.”
“I thought you were going to be late…” Xandy said, moving a little bit closer.
Quinn gave a short soft laugh. “We broke up.”
Xandy stepped closer and that’s when she saw the bloody nail tracks from Quinn’s neck to her chest.
“Oh my God!” Xandy said, moving to sit next to Quinn, her eyes on the marks on her neck.
Her blue eyes went to Quinn’s. “She did that?”
“You’re surprised?” Quinn asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Sadly, no, I’m not.”
“Told you lesbian break-ups are rough.”
“Well, I hope she’s got some marks to show for it too then,” Xandy snapped in a rare show of anger.
Quinn’s eyes widened, even as she began to grin. “Tell me how you really feel…”
“I really hate her,” Xandy said, as she reached over and picked up a discarded rag and dipped it in a glass of water on the nightstand, and then turning to Quinn.
Quinn grinned as she straightened her legs. Xandy straddled her lap, touching the wet rag to the bloody scratches. Quinn jumped slightly in response, her hands grasping at Xandy’s waist.
“Sorry.”
“S’okay.”
“I really can’t believe she did this to you…” Xandy said, shaking her head in disbelief.
“She’s a passionate girl.”
“She’s a mean bitch.”
Quinn laughed. “Wow, I guess you’ve made up your mind about that, huh?”
Xandy stopped blotting at the scratches and looked at Quinn. “Yes I have. I don’t like her, she doesn’t treat you right, and she doesn’t deserve you.”
Quinn rolled her head around, then side to side, stretching her neck wincing as she stretched too far pulling at the scratches.
“Stop,” Xandy said, taking Quinn’s face in her hands, “you’ll make them bleed again.”
When their eyes connected they both held their breath. Slowly, Quinn reached up to touch Xandy’s cheek, she drew Xandy’s face to hers and their lips met. Xandy’s hands grasped Quinn’s shoulders as the kiss began tentatively.
Xandy’s soft moan caused Quinn’s breath to catch and she deepened the kiss. Quinn slid her hands around Xandy’s waist, pulling her close, her arms folding around her, to hold her there. Xandy reveled in the sensations coursing through her. She slid her hands from Quinn’s shoulders to her head, but accidentally brushed the scratches left by Valerie’s nails.
Quinn jumped and the sharp pain brought her to her senses. Pulling back, she closed her eyes against the assault of her own body screaming at her for stopping.
“Xan, wait,” Quinn said, shaking her head. “We can’t… I can’t… I’m sorry, I can’t.”
Xandy felt like the air had just been sucked out of the room. “What? Why?” she asked, breathless.
“It’s not right. If I do this, I’m no better than Jason.”
“Jason tried to force me,” Xandy said, her eyes welling with tears. “I want this.”
Quinn grimaced, her looking mournful. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have started this, I’m sorry….” Her voice trailed off as she shook her head, feeling horrible.
She didn’t see the devastated look in Xandy’s eyes. Xandy quickly got up, then turned to walk out of the room.
“Xandy?” Quinn queried, knowing that she needed to explain herself. “Wait, we need to talk. Please?”
Xandy stopped, but didn’t turn around. She didn’t want Quinn to see the tears in her eyes.
“It’s okay, we can talk about it tomorrow.”
Quinn pressed her lips together, knowing she didn’t have any right to push Xandy on this. It had been her decision to start the kiss and her decision to end it. If Xandy didn’t want to hear her explanation, what right did she have to force her?
Xandy left the room. Quinn banged her head on the headboard a few times, knowing she’d just done something incredibly stupid. The problem was, she couldn’t decide if it was stupid to start it or to stop it. She sat on her bed for a while, and was surprised when she heard the bathroom door shut. A few minutes later she heard the shower start. Sitting there her mind started working, she’d thought that Xandy was already in bed when she’d come in.
Getting off the bed, Quinn walked to Xandy’s room, and saw that the bed covers were set aside, like Xandy had gotten out of bed to come in to see her.
Then why is she taking a shower now? she asked herself.
Something inside her clicked, and she strode to the bathroom door, knocking on it.
“Xan?” she called, loud enough to be heard over the shower.
No answer.
“Xandy!” she repeated louder but still with no response. She tried the door, it was locked.
“Xandy, answer me, damnit!” Quinn yelled, her voice strident with her rising fear.
“It’s okay,” Xandy called from the bathroom, “it’ll be okay…”
The tone of Xandy’s voice made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Without hesitation Quinn stepped back and kicked the bathroom door open. The scene in front of her would stay with her for years afterwards; Xandy was sitting on the floor, a pool of blood on her left, staining her blue lounge pants, her head was down, and Quinn caught a flash of metal in her hand.
“Xandy! No!” Quinn yelled, striding forward and slapping the razor blade out of Xandy’s hand.
Because Xandy had looked up at Quinn’s exclamation, the razor blade and tilted upward, and sliced through Quinn’s hand as she dislodged it from Xandy’s grip.
“Fucking son of a bitch!” Quinn growled, gritting her teeth against the pain that shot through her.
She grabbed a towel off the sink and used it to wrap up Xandy’s heavily-bleeding wrist.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Quinn chanted, as she did her best to hold the towel firmly. She reached into her pocket for her cell phone with her now heavily-bleeding hand.
She had a hard time using the touch screen because it kept getting smeared with her own blood, but she finally dialed 911, and hit the speaker phone, dropping the phone to reach for a towel for herself.
When the dispatcher answered, Quinn gave them Xandy’s address and said that there’d been an accident. She knew that 911 calls were recorded; she’d be damned if she was going to allow that call to end up on some stupid tabloid show. She told the dispatcher that Xandy had been cut accidentally, that she was losing a lot of blood, and that they needed an ambulance right away.
Quinn stayed on the phone, but pulled Xandy into her lap, holding the towel at her wrist. Xandy was in and out of consciousness.
“Xan, stay with me, come on babe, open your eyes.”
Xandy slowly opened her eyes, but Quinn could tell she was very out of it.
�
�There ya go,” Quinn said, smiling weakly, “come on, stay with me.” To the dispatcher she yelled, “Where the fuck are these guys?”
“They’re coming, they’ll be there in about two minutes,” responded the dispatcher.
Quinn moved to stand, picking Xandy up as she did. She was hit with a wave of dizziness and had to lean against the sink to keep from passing out. She knew her own blood loss was getting a little too high. She gripped the towel on her hand tighter, gritting her teeth against the sharp pains.
She walked out of the bathroom, leaving her bloodied phone on the floor and walked to the front door to unlock it. She heard the sirens then, and waited for the paramedics. When they took Xandy out of her arms, they saw her bloodied hand and moved to tend it, she yanked her hand away from the paramedic.
“Help her! I’m fine,” she yelled, even as her vision blurred a bit.
“My partner has your girl,” the paramedic explained calmly, “but you’re losing a lot of blood too, and you’re as white as a ghost, so how about you let me help you too?”
The fight left Quinn then, and she nodded, moving to sit down on the step in the front of Xandy’s house.
An hour and a half later, BJ Sparks hit the doors of the emergency room at a dead run. Quinn had called him to tell him that Xandy was in the hospital. BJ strode up to the counter, looking at the faces behind the nurses station.
“Em!” he called, recognizing one of the nurses.
“BJ!” she called, nodding understandingly. “That’s right she’s one of yours. She’s not conscious yet, but the doctor is with her. He should be out soon. Her bodyguard is being particularly difficult with us,” she said, knowing how BJ handled his people and knowing if anyone could get Quinn Kavanaugh to cooperate, it would be BJ.
“Where is she?” BJ asked.
“Out in the courtyard smoking like a train,” Emily answered.
“Thanks beautiful,” BJ said winking at the nurse.
Turning, he walked out into the courtyard. He spotted Quinn across the square; she was leaning against a wall, one knee bent, her booted foot on the wall behind her. Her head was down, but BJ noted the blood-soaked bandage on her shaking hand as she lifted the cigarette to her lips.
Break in the Storm (WeHo Book 2) Page 9
