by Monica James
I can feel my mouth moving wordlessly because I don’t know what to say. But Quinn shakes his head, not wanting my sympathy.
“When she found out she was knocked up, her little fantasy of playing happy family got shot to hell, as she knew Tommy would never marry her now. Marrying your brother’s ex, who is pregnant with your brother’s baby is fucking messed up, and in the end, Tommy chose his family over her. He never returned to South Boston after she wrote to him and told him she was pregnant. He said the honorable thing to do would be to marry my father, because the scandal of her being pregnant before marriage in a small town such as ours, well, you just imagine the gossip. So she did. She married him and was fucking miserable, until of course, Tommy came home. She told me the moment he returned they both felt it. Her love for him was still as strong as the day he left, but things had changed. Tommy had gotten married, and his wife was expecting their first child. This broke my mother, who was unhappily married with a son she never wanted, so she did everything in her power to make Tommy want her again. She seduced him, and because all men think with their dicks, he fell for her seduction. They finally consummated their fucked up love, and that’s when Tristan was conceived.”
My mouth is still hanging open, as I don’t know what to say. I thought my family history was fucked up, but this, holy crap, this shit is messed up.
“Deep down, I think she meant to get pregnant, hoping he would choose her and her baby over his new family, but he didn’t. After all was said and done, he went back to Texas to his wife and his legitimate child.”
“So he knew she was pregnant with Tristan?” I finally say, thankful I can speak.
Quinn nods. “Yes, but he didn’t care. This broke my mom, and she stayed with my father because she would prefer to be miserable than alone. And also, being a young, single mom with two kids in a small country town really doesn’t do any favors to one’s reputation.”
“Deep down, I think my dad knew Tristan wasn’t his. I mean he only had to take one look into Tristan’s eyes, and see Tommy’s eyes staring back at him. But he never said anything, as denial is bliss. And besides, he had an easy ride being married to my mom. He gambled away our money and drank himself silly.
“But something inside my mom snapped the day he hit me. She finally grew the balls and left him, and everything was going great until Tommy decided to come back home and fuck everything up. He divorced his wife and granted her full custody of his son, Matthew.”
My mouth once again parts in shock, and Quinn sadly nods. “Yes, Red, Tristan has a half-brother.”
“Oh, Quinn,” I sigh, but he shakes his head.
“I don’t want your pity.” I quickly nod, understanding the feeling all too well.
“So what happened?”
“Well, as messed up as life is, what I walked into was my mom and Tommy discussing their future—a future which didn’t include me. My mom was finally going to get her wish and be married to Tommy, and together, they would run the diner—her dream finally come true. Tristan, of course, was a part of this fairytale ending, and they were going to tell him that Tommy was his real father.”
“So where did that leave you?” I ask, almost afraid of his answer.
“It left me to rot in some army boot camp for delinquent teens. Tommy convinced my mom this was for the best as she could no longer help me, and the only future for me would be a military one, otherwise I would end up in prison, or worse still, end up like my father. She tried to reason with me that this was for the best, and she was only doing this for me. But I knew she was only doing this for herself. I was the last piece tying her to a past she longed to escape, as she never wanted me. She was never mean to me, and tried her best to be a good mother, but I know when she looked at me, she saw my father, and she also saw her wasted youth. And now that she was given a second chance with Tommy, she wasn’t letting anyone stand in her way—not even her son.”
“What did you do?” I question, knowing Quinn would never stand for this.
He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I did the only thing I could do.”
“And what was that?”
“I told my dad,” he guiltily confesses, and the room suddenly begins to spin.
“I knew that it was wrong, but I was so fucking angry. Why were they the lucky ones? Why were they allowed a second chance, and I wasn’t? It wasn’t my fault that my mother was a coward. I never asked to be born, so I just didn’t care.”
“When I told him, he reacted just as I thought he would, with a shotgun pressed to my temple, demanding where they were. This was exactly the response I had hoped for, as I wanted my father to scare the shit out of Tommy, hoping he would leave and maybe, just maybe, me, Tristan and my mom could go back to the way things were. But I was a stupid kid, believing in whimsical fantasies.”
“Why?”
“Because there was one person in this whole fucked up mess who was purely innocent.”
“Tristan,” I gasp, and Quinn nods.
“By telling my dad the truth, I only just confirmed what he thought to be true. And when he dished out his revenge, he was going to make sure Tristan paid for my mother’s and Tommy’s mistake. I couldn’t allow that to happen, so I lied and I told him they were at the diner. Dad left, shotgun in one hand, and a bottle of bourbon in the other, intent on dishing out his revenge. I knew I didn’t have long, so I stole a car and sped to my house, needing to warn my mom. Tristan was at my grandparents’ for the night, which made me feel slightly better, so I knew it was now or never. I told my mom and Tommy what I had done, and then I gave my mother an ultimatum. She chooses me or him.”
I close my eyes, now understanding all the times Quinn opened up to me about his mom. Everything begins to make sense. I now fully understand his heartbreaking cries for forgiveness when he was dreaming that night in the truck. His confession at the diner right before Justin attacked me; it all makes sense, because I know who his mother chose.
“If she chose me and Tristan, then I would call Dad and tell him it was all a lie, and I would suffer the consequences. But if she chose him, then I would call Dad and tell him where they were. Tommy knew he was in trouble, because he had seen my dad’s temper firsthand, so he decided to give my mom his own ultimatum. She could leave with him right now, and they could start a new life where no one knew them—no one would ever know the sins of their past. Or, he would do all that without her. He couldn’t face his brother, knowing what he had done, so he took the coward’s way out.
“I could see her mulling over the offer, and I could also see his offer was becoming more appealing than mine when Tommy upped the stakes. He said they would take Tristan with them, and they would be the happy little family they were always supposed to be.”
“What about you?” I ask, tears stinging my eyes.
“They didn’t care. But there was no damn way they were taking my brother. And in a sick way, I was jealous. Why did he get a chance at a normal life and I didn’t? But my mother knew there was no way my father would ever stop looking for them until he found them and made them pay for their betrayal. She could never live a happy, normal life while always looking over her shoulder, in fear my father had found her. And I knew that, too. So, I upped the ante. She was to leave Tristan here with me, and Grandma and Grandpa could look after us until I turned eighteen, and then I would look after Tristan myself. I also told her I would never tell my grandparents why she left, and spare her the shame of them knowing she cheated on her husband and had an illegitimate child with his brother. If she did this, then I would call my dad and tell him I made it all up. I would tell him that I drove her away because she couldn’t deal with me any longer. She knew that if I did this, then she would finally be free of him.”
“What did she do?” I ask, but I already know the answer.
“She chose him. She left us behind because she was selfish and weak. But the worst part is, I gave her that ultimatum. I jeopardized my brother’s happiness because of my selfis
hness,” he confesses, and I’ve never seen him look so miserable.
“She left us; she abandoned us when it got too tough. She chose a better life without us in it. But I stuck to my word and called my dad, telling him I had made it all up, and then, they left. They left because I lied, giving my mom and Tommy the perfect alibi.
“I couldn’t believe she actually left, and I stood in my living room for minutes, trying to process what the hell I had done. The only thing that snapped me back into reality was when a car’s headlights shone brightly through the window, because I thought it was them. I thought she had changed her mind. But she didn’t. Those headlights belonged to Sheriff Davidson because he was arresting me for grand theft auto. I didn’t care because being arrested probably saved my life. I knew my dad would have beaten me within an inch of my life for lying to him, and for being the reason why my mother left. I got six months in juvie thanks to my prior convictions, while my grandparents looked after Tristan.”
Holy shit, my mind is reeling, but I nod, because I know there’s more.
“Six months is a long time when all you’ve got is time. So I promised myself, then and there, that I would be the best brother I could possibly be to Tristan. I took away his happiness because he could have been happy and lived a normal life. But I took it all away because I was jealous.”
“Quinn, uprooting a teenager and taking him away from his brother and his friends probably wouldn’t have made him happy,” I say, hoping I don’t anger him.
But Quinn shakes his head, his jaw clenched tight. “But I took that choice away from him. He was thirteen, he would have made new friends, and he would have forgotten all about me.”
I don’t argue with him and allow him to continue.
“I have lived with my decision for every day since. My selfishness caused my grandparents unnecessary pain, as they never understood why their only daughter took off without a trace. I hurt my dad, even though he doesn’t deserve any sympathy. I hurt my mom. But most of all, I hurt the only person who never looked at me like I was a punk. Never questioned me because I was his older brother, his fucking superhero, and I fucking betrayed him in the worst way possible.”
“So whatever Tristan wanted, he got. I would never again deny him a moment of happiness. My grandparents split when I was eighteen, leaving me in charge of the diner and making me the rightful owner. I didn’t want it, but Tristan did. So I gave it to him.”
So technically, Quinn is Tristan’s boss. Holy shit, him scoffing when I called him the boss now makes perfect sense.
“But there was one thing I couldn’t give Tristan.” Quinn’s eyes sadly search mine. “And that was a girl. All the girls I messed around with weren’t good enough for my brother. They would forget his name the minute they got what they wanted, and Tristan deserved better than that.”
“But you deserved that?” I unhappily question, hating he thinks so poorly of himself.
“I deserved worse,” he replies, taking a deep breath.
“Quinn,” but he shakes his head, cutting me off.
“I knew Tristan wanted a girlfriend. He was a good looking kid, smart, with good head on his shoulders, but I could see he was craving the attention of someone he could call his own. My brother is a sappy romantic, but I love that about him. I love he sees the world through his rose-tinted glasses, because my glasses are long gone. The single girls in our town, well, excluding Tabitha, they’re all the same. There’s no depth to them, they’re all shallow airheads with nothing but fake tans and even faker attitudes animating their every move. But then, then you arrived,” Quinn says, his lips curling into a melancholy smile.
“The moment he saw you, I knew that he liked you.”
Thinking back to when I first met the Berkeley brothers, I can’t help but smile. I never would have predicted that precise moment would alter my life in a way I never thought possible.
“I tried so damn hard to stay away from you, and to redeem my promise to make Tristan happy. But the more I pushed you away, the harder you fought, and the more I fucking wanted you. You don’t understand how many times I had to stop myself from—” He pauses, chewing on his lip ring as he gazes down at my body.
“Why me?” I ask, my voice barely audible as I sit up, wanting to touch him.
“You don’t realize how special you are,” he replies, slowly moving toward me. “What’s in here,” and he presses his hand to my heart. “I want to possess. I want to own, but I don’t deserve you. I never have.”
His words bring tears to my eyes, and there is only one thing I can do to show him he’s more than worthy of my love. Pulling out of his touch, I slowly reach for the hem of my sweater and pull it over my head. Quinn follows the movement, but makes no attempt to move. Next, I slip off my tank, and his eyes continue to watch me as they smolder with desire.
“I’m just like him,” he whispers, his eyes filling with tears. “I’m stealing my brother’s girl. I’m turning into the man I’ve grown to hate.”
Everything suddenly comes crashing down, and Quinn’s reasoning for staying away from me becomes crystal clear. Quinn doesn’t want to be like his uncle, taking me away from Tristan. But the thing is, I was never Tristan’s girl, I have always been Quinn’s. And I always will be.
I don’t allow his words to discourage me as I lie back down and carefully unzip my jeans. As I wriggle out of them, raising my hips to slide them off, Quinn stops me by placing a hand on my hip.
“You still want me?” he asks, astounded. “After everything I just told you? This doesn’t change your mind?”
Sitting up, I slowly reach around and unhook my bra, allowing the straps to glide off my shoulders, and we both watch as the lacy material lands in my lap.
As Quinn bites his lip, his eyes zeroing in on my erect nipples, I lean forward and place my trembling palm on his cheek. “This changes everything.”
Quinn blinks and the fear is reflected in his tender eyes. “I’m sorry I’m not the man you thought I was.”
“No, you’re not,” I confess, and Quinn lowers his head, ashamed. “You’re more,” I whisper, cupping his chin and coaxing him to look at me.
“What?” he gasps as he searches my face for answers.
“You’re everything I want. What you just told me, it shows me who you really are,” I say with a small smile.
“And who’s that?” he asks, beseeching me to give him the answer he’s been searching for his entire life.
Slowly clutching the hem of his shirt and slipping it over his head, I gently rub my finger over the hoop in his nipple. As I watch his skin break out into goose bumps, I whisper, “You’re you, Quinn, nothing’s changed. And that man, whether he believes it or not, is a good man. And he’s my man.” I bend forward, kissing his trembling lips.
Quinn willingly returns the kiss and I gently slip my hands between us so I can unbuckle his belt, making my intentions clear.
“Red, stop,” he pants, pulling his hips away. “I don’t have any protection.”
I wouldn’t have this any other way. With his confession, I want no more barriers better us. I just want it to be Mia and Quinn.
“I don’t care,” I whisper, lying down and slowly slipping off my black underwear.
Quinn watches the movement, and I can see his inner turmoil. But I’m so sick of what’s right and what’s wrong. I’m sick of abiding by other people’s rules, because all I want to do is live. And this, right now, is the most I’ve ever felt alive. Some may call it irresponsible, but I call it living. And after living my entire life in darkness, I’ve finally found the light. I don’t plan on getting lost in the dark ever again.
Reaching forward, I run my fingers along his ribs, tracing his tattoo. “We make our own fate.” I now finally understand the meaning behind his ink. “Let me be yours,” I say, and that’s all it takes as I watch his resolve slowly slipping away.
When he slides off his jeans, I nervously gulp, as seeing him totally bare is a sight that takes my br
eath away.
“This might hurt a little,” he whispers, lowering his bare body onto mine.
“It’s okay,” I reply, wrapping my hands around his neck as I open my legs to allow him to slip inside.
“I’ll try not to hurt you, and I’ll go slow, okay?”
I nod, my body trembling in fear, but also in need.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, kissing my chin while I feel him slip a finger inside of me, testing to see if I’m ready. As he slips in another, he knows that I am.
“I don’t deserve you,” he says, his long hair caressing my cheeks as he nips at my jaw. “But I want you. I’ve wanted you from the first moment I saw you.”
The way his fingers play me down below has my hips rising in wanton need, but it’s not enough, I want more. I reach between us and stoke over his hot, hard length, and he groans, drawing his hips toward my touch. He thankfully senses my need and slowly removes his fingers, replacing them with the tip of his burning erection.
I feel the first slice of pain as he gradually eases into me, and he freezes as I hiss, my muscles familiarizing themselves with the delicious intrusion. “Keep going,” I whisper as the burn subsides.
Quinn kisses my trembling lips as he slowly pushes deeper into me, but stops when he feels my muscles clench in pain. “This is the part that’ll hurt the most,” he says, his voice shuddering under the pressure of holding back.
