Page 21 of The Late Hit
Wait, how did he even get in?
Scanning the room, I realize that the space is empty aside from me and Quinton. The Housewives are still on the TV, but everyone else is gone. Clutching Q’s shirt, I pull him close to me as the tears continue to fall. Quinton doesn’t say anything. He lets me cry, rubbing my back and whispering consoling words.
“What the fuck happened, Brynn?” Quinton mutters. “I saw you take off in the library. I’ve been trying to call and text you, but you won’t respond. What’s going on?”
Leaning up, I wipe the tears from my face. Pulling my hands away, I see that they're streaked with the black mascara that’s running down my cheeks.
Jesus, I’m a freaking mess.
Looking up, I ask,“Why are you here?”
“Why am I here? For fuck’s sake, Brynn, it’s me. After you stormed out and didn’t respond, I texted Chloe.” He stares at my tear-stained face. “You blew past Cody in the quad. He said you looked like a ghost and didn’t even acknowledge him when he said your name.”
“I didn’t even see him,” I mutter.
“No shit, you didn’t. He said you looked like you were in a trance, so he texted me to see what was wrong with you. That freaked me out more. All I kept thinking about was you drivin’ home in a trance, wrapping your damn car around a pole.” Taking a breath, he continues. “Then I show up here, and you're staring at the TV, sobbing. Brynn, you don’t cry. At least, I’ve never seen you cry. Stop avoiding me, and fucking talk to me.”
Shock eclipses my face as I look up at him.
“Yeah, I know you’ve been avoiding me. That’s somethin’ else we need to talk about, but I need to know you’re okay.”
Clearing my throat, I look away toward the window. Still staring out the window, I feel around the chair, and under the pillow for my vape. Feeling the hard pen touch my fingers, I pull it out from behind the pillow and bring it to my lips. I start to inhale, but it’s batted out of my hand.
“What the fuck, Quinton?”
“Don’t‘what the fuck me.’Quit using that thing as a crutch to avoid talking.”
Groaning, I force myself out of his grasp and up off his lap.
“Don’t come to my house, demand I talk to you, and lecture me. You’re not my parents.”
“Thank God for that. They suck,” he quips.
“Yeah, they do.”
“That’s what it is, isn’t it?” Quinton stands and walks over to me. “Brynn, what did they do now?”
Sighing, I stand there with my arms crossed, looking up at Quinton. I can see the worry lines etched across his face. There aren’t many days where we fight. Sure, we have days where we bicker, but that’s because we spend too much time together. He knows my likes and dislikes, my quirks, that I can eat as many wings as most men on the football team. He knows my secrets—well, most of them—my fears, my dreams, and my ambitions.
While he knows most of my secrets, he doesn’t know everything. Some things in my past are just hard to talk about. It was ingrained in me at a young age that what happens in our family, stays in our family. Not only could it hurt my dad’s political career, but it could hurt the precious family legacies. Our family legacies not only affected my brother, my parents, and me, but all of our relatives, the generations before us, and the ones to come. Secrets are what keep our family mighty.
“I have to go home next week. It wasdemanded, not requested.”
“Okay,” he drags out, not quite getting what the big deal is.
Inhaling, I continue. “The high school is doing a tribute during the football game. Then on Saturday attend some kind of formal event. That was all the information I got.” Pausing, I run my fingers through my tangled hair. “She sent me a fucking email after not hearing from her in almost four months.”
I can see the moment it clicks, and he looks down at me. “Five years.”
“Five years,” I sigh.
Quinton pulls me in for a hug. He drags his hand up my back and starts rubbing the turtledove tattoo I have on the back of my neck.
“You're lucky,” he says.
Jerking my head up, I look at him in shock. After everything I just said, I can’t believe he just said that to me. He just grins.
“We have a bye week. There’s no way in hell I’m letting you go alone.”
