As You Turn Away (The Walker Boys) (25 page)

Ethan crossed his arms across his chest, and studied Jonah in silence for a moment. “She’s been through hell,” he commented, “and I don’t think she’s out of it yet. Joe, she lost her
mom
, and she may seem okay, but she isn’t. She can’t have made peace with leaving the city and the ballet, losing her mom, almost losing her dad. That’s a lot for one person, not to mention her fucked-up childhood.”

‘Then why won’t she
talk
to me about it?” He made himself unclench his fists. “I know she’s still hurting, but I don’t know how to get her to open up to me.”

“Maybe she thinks you won’t understand.” Ethan shrugged. “Maybe she doesn’t know where to begin. Maybe she hasn’t worked through losing her mom. She may not be grieving as much, but that doesn’t mean she’s totally okay yet.”

Jonah closed his eyes. He
knew
Quinn wasn’t completely healed. He gave her space on the bad days, held her when she cried, and focused on making their relationship as loving as he could. He’d tried to talk to her about her mom’s death, but just like when he got serious about their relationship, she always found something else to talk about. He knew her doctor wanted her to go to grief counseling, but he didn’t think it was something she’d ever really looked into. And it wasn’t something he could push her into doing.

“I feel helpless.” The admission hurt, but he couldn’t take it back. “I thought being
us
again would make a difference for her; I thought us being healthier this time around would make us perfect.”

Ethan put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. Reece huddled up with them, and even though he wasn’t making any attempt to hug or touch Jonah, Jonah felt his brother’s concern all the same. “It’s just gonna take time. Time for her to heal, time for you to heal. Time for y’all to figure out your future.”

“I keep waitin’ to wake up, and find out she’s gone.” He was panting now, and it was a mighty effort to slow his breathing.

“
Jonah
.” Reece crowded his space, eyes boring directly into his. “Don’t do that. You have to have faith in you, and in her. You have to believe this time is different.”

Jonah opened his hands; he’d fisted them again. He could feel himself tensing under Reece’s gaze, but there was nothing he could do about it. “I can’t lose her again.” He breathed out, and in, but the air felt heavy with the things he wasn’t saying. They all knew Quinn grew up in a detached household, but Jonah was beginning to think Quinn’s scars went even deeper than he realized.

Reece forcibly moved him until Jonah was facing Quinn. She was so damn beautiful, and seeing her happy gave him hope that someday soon, she’d have more good days than bad. “I believe in her, and in myself, and in us.” Jonah forced the words out, staring across the fire at his sweetheart. “I don’t want to feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“Then don’t.” Reece said the two words as if it was all just that simple. “Make every day and every
moment
count. Be honest and patient with her and she’ll come around.”

Jonah focused on Quinn. She was still laughing, and her merriment brought a smile to his face in response. “I hope you’re right, brother.”

He rested his head on top of hers, and breathed in her scent. Everything between them right now was discordant notes he didn’t understand. Something was wrong—it was her pale face, the weight she’d lost the last few weeks, the nights she snuck out to see him knowing she’d be punished. He knew her home life was worse than ever, and it killed him that he couldn’t fix everything for her.

Jonah was scared. The future was coming at them faster than he’d ever thought it would. He felt like magnets were drawing them apart, stuffing tears and uncertainty between them. Quinn seemed headed in one direction, Jonah in another. He still craved her touch, but everything was wrong.

But this? Moving together? It was something they still did well, without thinking. She still felt the same in his arms, still fit into his embrace like she’d been made for him. But every time Jonah held Quinn, he felt like she was more insubstantial, like the little things that made her, her were floating away. Her fire was going out, and he didn’t know why; he didn’t know what to do to fix her, or himself, or them.

“Jonah.” Quinn felt at once heavy and light in his arms. “Jonah…”

“Not tonight.” His throat felt scraped raw. He stared at her in the dim light of the ballroom, watching her eyes. “I know we need to talk. I know we’re broken.” He glanced around at the other couples, and wondered when he and Quinn lost that glow. “I know, but can we go back to normal tonight? Can we just hold each other and love each other, no matter what?”

She sighed, but nodded. Quinn stretched up to kiss his cheek, her eyes watery. “We’ll have tonight.” She put her arms back around his neck. “Tonight to just be us. I love you, Jonah Walker.”

Jonah touched his lips to her forehead, and then put his against hers. “I love you, Quinnlan Reynolds.”

But even though he was holding her, he felt her slipping away.

“Oh my gosh, you’re really here!” Lanie swung open the apartment door, a smile on her face. She reached for Quinn’s bag and backed inside, her face animated. “I kept thinking for sure you’d change your mind, Q.”

Quinn followed Lanie into the apartment, and paused. The chair she usually curled up in to read was across the room from where she’d left it, and the couch was angled differently. But otherwise the living room and open kitchen looked the same. She circled around toward Lanie. “You really thought I wouldn’t come?” She shook her head. “I needed to get away for awhile, and be here with you.”

“Oh, I understand,” Lanie waved a hand. “And I’m happy you’re here. I just figured you’d be spending as much time with Jonah as you could. I’m surprised you didn’t bring him with you.”

Quinn dropped onto the sofa and leaned into the couch cushions. “I don’t think Jonah wants to spend a lot of time in big cities anymore.”

Keeping her eyes downcast, Quinn tried to find a way to voice what she wasn’t saying. She was a few weeks into physical therapy, but she wasn’t finished yet. She was still regaining her strength from the break and the time her leg was casted. Doc Paige said it would be awhile before she could return to her regular workouts, much less dancing. So while physically she was healing, in other ways, she felt she was nothing more than a series of tiny splinters, waiting to spread.

She wasn’t sure who she’d be when they did.

“He’d have come if you asked him.” Lanie’s tone was confident as ever, and Quinn switched her gaze to her hands. “Oh, I see. You
didn’t
ask.” Lanie didn’t say anything as she took a seat beside Quinn, just reached for her hand and held it tightly. “Why didn’t you want him to come with you, Quinn?”

“He doesn’t know I’m here.” The admission was more difficult than she’d thought it would be; the words stuck in her throat like crumbs. She finally glanced over at Lanie, prepared for anything other than the confused expression.

“Why not?” Lanie leaned forward, eyes locked intently on Quinn. “I mean, I know I’m the
last
person on earth you ever thought would say this, but I think he’s good for you.” She paused, eyes traveling before she focused on Quinn again. “Before I met him, I only knew him through your stories, and I wasn’t sure whether to love him or hate him. And now that I know him a bit, I can say he seems like he’s come a long way from the dumbass kid who let you walk away.”

Quinn felt tears welling in her eyes; not blinking was a struggle. “He has.”

“And…?” Lanie sighed when Quinn didn’t follow her prompt. “Quinn, if you’re with him, then you should
tell
him things—like when you’re taking off for New York for the weekend.”

She finally blinked, unable to hold back the tears any longer. They spilled greedily onto her cheeks, and Quinn flicked them away harshly. “We’re complicated. Or rather, we’re fine, and I’m the one who’s complicated.” She swallowed, her throat tightening. “He’s everything I remember, and so much more. And he wants us to be together, but…”

“What?” The gentle tone to Lanie’s voice only made the tears flow faster.

“I’m not okay,” Quinn whispered. “And I’m not sure when I
will
be. I have one foot in two worlds, and before I can commit to Jonah, I needed to come here, to be in the city again. To see what I’d be giving up. Before I know if I should tell him everything.” She wiped her eyes. “If I should tell him just how bad my home life got before I left.”

Lanie leaned in without saying anything, and drew Quinn into a hug. “I know, baby girl. I know.”

Quinn relaxed into the touch after her initial hesitation, realizing how long it had been since she and Lanie had been in their apartment, or for that matter, even in the same place. With the new school year approaching, Lanie hadn’t been back to Georgia in over a month. Quinn hadn’t expected her friend to continue to make trips back and forth; she also hadn’t expected to miss Lanie so much.

“Okay.” Lanie pulled away, her dark eyes never leaving Quinn’s. “I get it. I still think you should have told him, so you aren’t getting a pass for that, Q. But I’m also happy to have you here, and I want to make the most of the time I have with you.” She smiled slightly. “I know you will tell him about your past when you’re ready. But let’s talk about something other than guys.” She stood, and walked over to the kitchen. “Want some wine?”

“Please!” Quinn chuckled through her tears, her vision still swimming. “I’m such a hot mess I probably don’t need any alcohol, but pour away.” She wiped at her eyes. “Tell me about the school year. I know you’re teaching first grade again this year, right?”

“Yes.” Lanie poured them each a glass of wine. “And those kids are the cutest!” She sat beside Quinn, and handed over one of the glasses. “I am so excited.”

Quinn sipped at her drink as Lanie told her about her classroom, and the things she’d made for it. Lanie was as passionate about teaching as Quinn was—or had been—about dancing. Even though Quinn missed performing and getting lost in the role, she wasn’t sure she was ready to go back to the competitive portion of ballet. She loved the ephemeral music, the beautiful costumes, and making the audience feel something. But being back in Georgia made her remember when she danced just to dance, and not because she was trying to win a part.

“I’m so happy for you, Lanie.” Quinn finished her wine, letting the taste fill her mouth. “You’re really making a difference in people’s lives.”

Lanie smiled slowly. “I hope so. I love what I do. And I want you to get back to doing what
you
love, too.”

“I will.” Quinn set her glass on a coaster on the coffee table. “It’s just going to take time.” She raised her eyebrows. “So where are we going to dinner tonight? I hope it’s someplace fabulous.”

~~~~~

The scream sounded like regret in her throat, emerging tangled and garbled. The sound fully woke Quinn, and she clapped a hand to her mouth, stifling the noise. She reached over and flipped on the bedside lamp just as the door opened. Lanie stood in the doorway, blinking in the sudden light.

“Was that you?” She crossed the room and sank onto the bed.

“I—” Quinn had to make herself take a few deep breaths. “Had a dream.” She scooted until she was sitting braced against the headboard. “Mother was alive, maybe I was a teenager again. She was harassing me and putting me down like—like she used to.” Deep breaths weren’t working; Quinn’s heart was thudding out of control.

“And?” Lanie grabbed her hand. “Tell me.”

“I told her to stop. I screamed at her like I did when I left, and she just
laughed
at me.” Quinn gripped Lanie’s hand. “And then
J-Jonah
was there, and saw how she was behaving. And saw I was letting her do it. And he
left
me.”

Lanie moved so she was sitting next to Quinn, a position they’d occupied countless times watching movies, or TV-on-DVD-marathons. She put an arm around Quinn’s shoulder, and pulled her close, and Quinn let herself be held. Her first instinct was still to pull back, but she didn’t.

“It was a dream,” Lanie said finally. “And although I know right now it’s terrifying because it felt real, and because you lived part of it, you’re safe. Dreams are just images, Quinn. They can’t hurt you.”

Quinn closed her eyes, focusing on the things she could control: her breathing, and telling herself her best friend was right. The dream scared her awake, but it wasn’t real. Her mother was gone, and she would never hurt Quinn again. And Jonah wasn’t leaving.

Was he?

“But Quinn?” Lanie waited until Quinn met her stare. “Even though the dream wasn’t real, I think what it was telling you
is
.” She linked her free hand with Quinn’s. “You obviously haven’t worked through your issues with your mom yet, and you’ve afraid of Jonah leaving you.”