Authors: Rissa Blakeley
“Oh fucking well, serves him right, the ungrateful arseface,” I mumbled under my breath after she went outside.
Minutes later, the arseface made his grand appearance in the kitchen doorway. Quinn practically shoved him toward the table as she waltzed into the room. “Here. Come and sit.” Quinn pulled out the chair diagonal from me. Smart move, woman. If he sat directly across from me and I had to stare at his melon for more than a second, I couldn’t be held responsible for what might have occurred.
Without looking at anybody, Gage sat in the chair. Quinn put a jar of fruit in front of him and pulled out another bag of jerky. She sat down to the same meal herself. “There,” she said, quite pleased with herself that we were sitting at the table like a proper Norman Rockwell family.
I almost laughed, but held it in. I couldn’t fight the smirk, though. Josie looked around at all of us. I would imagine she thought that she had moved into an asylum. Slight awkwardness.
It was quiet—too quiet. My eyes flickered to Gage. He felt the burn of my gaze and looked up at me. I smirked again.
“Fuck you!” he yelled, jumping up and throwing his chair backwards.
Tsk, tsk, Tough Guy.
I started laughing. “Oh, for the love of…” Quinn tossed her spoon in the jar, splashing some of the juice out onto the table.
“I didn’t say anything!” I protested.
“He looked at me,” Gage growled.
I continued to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. “Really?” I laughed through my words. “Are you really going to go there?” Bloody hell, this was hilarious.
“Prick,” grumbled Gage.
That’s when I became pissed. “Bite your tongue around the women,” I chided, pointing my finger at him.
“Fuck off.” He slammed the chair into the table, rattling every item Quinn had placed on it, and stormed off to his bedroom.
“What did I talk to you about earlier?” Quinn snarled at me.
Again, she was treating me like a child. I really fucking hated that. I narrowed my eyes at her. “I don’t know, Quinn. Why don’t you give me a fucking refresher?” I will readily admit that my tone was harsh.
“You are an
asshole
!” She pointed at me, shoved herself away from the table, and stormed outside.
“Well, that was…interesting,” Josie remarked to herself as she dug in the jar of fruit for another piece of pineapple. I had almost forgotten that she was there.
“We’re a tight-knit, loving group. Aren’t you glad you decided to come with me?”
I got up and went outside. Quinn was sitting on the old wooden steps. She wiped her eyes.
Jesus Christ, I made her cry again.
“Quinn…” I felt guilty. Not a normal emotion for me, but I didn’t like to see her cry.
“Don’t. I don’t need this right now.”
I plopped down next to her. “Look, if it matters at all, I’m sorry. Really, I am.” Tears ran from her eyes. “Christ, woman, don’t cry.”
“You are just so crass sometimes. I need some sort of semblance of peace in my life. I thought we could try to be a family since we are living together. I’ve gone through way too much and lost so much more than I care to discuss. I just thought it would be nice…” She put her face in her hands.
“Quinn…”
Taking the chance, I pulled her to my chest, unsure if it was the right thing to do. I wished there was book on the shit. She wrapped her arms around my neck and sobbed into my shoulder. I rested my chin on the top of her head. I saw that in a movie once. She was right. I was an arsehole. Somehow, I needed to right the situation. And I needed to kiss her.
I put my fingers under her chin and raised her head up. After wiping her tears away with my thumbs, I placed my hands on either side of her face then kissed her on the forehead.
She gazed into my chemical-laden eyes as I headed toward her mouth. Her breath caught in her throat when she locked eyes with me. Her lips parted in invitation. I tucked her hair behind her ear.
Just as our lips nearly brushed together, she whispered, “This is not right. I’m sorry.” She pushed me back, stood up, and headed back inside.
“Fuck. That went well.” I rubbed my stubbled jaw. I sat there on the porch for a few minutes, staring at nothing, before heading back inside.
I peeked into the kitchen and Josie was sitting there by herself. “Uh…you want me to show you to your room?” I jerked my thumb over my shoulder and toward the bedrooms.
She looked at me in surprise. “Yeah. I could use a rest.”
“Follow me and I will get you a few supplies.” I took her to my room and loaded her up with everything from personal products to linens. After she thanked me, I told her to go see Quinn for clothes.
Josie was grateful Gunther had given her a bag full of her own supplies. She almost felt like she belonged there, even though the group was obviously fractured. She laid the linens on the small twin bed.
Once everything was to her liking, she went and knocked on the door to Quinn’s room. It took a minute for her to open the door and, once she did, she still looked upset. Her eyes were puffy and her complexion was blotchy.
“Hi. Sorry to bother you, but Gunther said you might have a few articles of clothing that could work for me?”
“I might. You’re much smaller than me, but I’m sure we can figure something out.” She waved Josie in and closed the door behind them.
“So, this is none of my business, but…are you two a couple?”
Quinn looked at Josie in shock. “Who?”
“You and Gunther.”
“What? No!” she scoffed. “What gave you that impression?” Quinn picked up the bags of clothes and pulled out a few items. “You
do
see that we are in separate rooms, right?”
“Well, I didn’t know if you were a couple at one time or something like that. There just seems to be some weird tension between the two of you, but he looks at you like he has feelings for you.” Quinn swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to imply anything. Just an observation.” Josie shied away.
“That’s okay, and no, we aren’t. Weren’t…ever.” Quinn handed over a couple t-shirts, socks, and a pair of yoga pants. “These are probably too big, but you can sleep in them. Hopefully, we will find more stuff for you soon.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She smiled at Josie before Josie headed back to her room.
I heard Josie leave Quinn’s room. I needed to talk to Quinn, so I did what every red-blooded male would do. I went knocking on her door to grovel. Unsure if it would work but, for the first time in my life, I was willing to give it a go. Maybe it wasn’t what I was supposed to do, but I needed to do something. I couldn’t bear knowing that she was angry with me.
For the longest time, I thought she wasn’t going to answer while I stood there like a fucking prat waiting for her to open the door. Then the old, paint-chipped wooden door cracked open with a creek, and her red puffy eyes met mine.
I swallowed hard, nervous as ever. “Can I talk to you for a sec?” She looked up at me with a blank stare. “All right. Well… Shit. Never mind.” Feeling very self-conscious, I turned to head back toward my room. Her hand wrapped around my bicep, stopping my flight response.
“Come in.” Her voice was soft and tired.
“Thank you.” I stepped in and closed the door with my hip. “I just want to apologize…again. I don’t have much in the way of people skills. I didn’t exactly grow up that way. I know that’s not an excuse…”
As I was trying to do the whole apology thing, she interrupted me, “I am married.” I nodded. “I would appreciate it if you would put your advances to rest.”
“Right. I understand. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”
“Just stop it, please.” She crossed her arms. She was so angry with me and I hated the feeling.
“Okay. I was just trying to make you feel better. My mistake.”
“Well, it didn’t.”
Kick to the fucking bollocks right there. I wasn’t used to women refusing my advances. Quinn was different than any other woman I had met. I didn’t know what it was about her, but she had my boxers in a knot. I stood there, looking completely stupid.
“Is there anything else you need to discuss?”
“Uh…no,” I replied, pushing my hand into my hair, noting I needed to break out the razor. “I guess that was it.”
As I turned away and opened the door, she grabbed my elbow. I spun back around to face her, a twinge of hope running through me. She was so close to me, I could kiss her. I
needed
to kiss her. I desperately wanted to rock her world because she was definitely fucking up mine.
“Look, I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I shouldn’t be so rude. I’m just trying to deal with all of my thoughts and worries.”
I closed the door again because I felt a major flood ready to pour out of me. The levee was weak and there was no way I could stop it from happening. “Can I confess something?”
“Sure.”
She had better be ready for what I was about to bring to the table. I took a deep breath and, with a quiver in my voice, I said, “I think you’re beautiful. And I’ve never met someone like you before. You’re so kind and loving, and you put me in my place.” I braced myself for a punch to the bollocks in three, two, one…
“Thank you. But, like I said, I’m married.” She flashed me her wedding band that I already knew was there.
I wanted to rip the fucking thing off her finger and throw it in a ditch somewhere…only to be picked up by a band of Gypsies, hocking it for a fucking chicken. I cleared my throat. “Right. I just wanted to tell you how I saw you.” She nodded once with pursed lips.
I left her room before I said anything else that would have gotten me into more trouble. Like the fact that I wanted to run my hands all over her fit body; or that I wanted to kiss her everywhere, especially between her thighs; or that I needed to be buried deep inside of her. Even better…that I wanted to fuck her into an orgasmic paradise until she begged me to stop.
After Josie left Quinn’s room, she sat on her bed and sighed. She picked through the bag of items Gunther had given her, popping open the bottle of shampoo. Coincidentally, it was the same one her mother used to use. She inhaled the fruity scent, bringing tears to her eyes.
“Mom…,” she whispered, “I miss you.”
Josie was the oddball of her family. The unexpressive child. The quiet one who held in her emotions. The child that every parent worried they would find dead when they opened their bedroom door one day.
Her family was quite normal. Everything was cookie cutter and pretty, except for Josie. Her family was proper, but she had a mouth on her like a truck driver.
They loved to attend football games, but Josie would rather shove bamboo under her fingernails than be stuck watching brute men running into one another over a ball. She hated being forced to attend her brother’s high school football games.
Her family enjoyed parties and her house was the regular neighborhood hangout. But Josie? She would rather jam a hot poker in her eye than have to socialize with anyone and everyone.
The only thing that brought her any joy was that guitar her uncle bought her. He seemed like he was the only one who got her. And that was gone now. She truly felt alone.
Josie would take back every single one of her angry words if she could—every last fucking one of them. In some ways, she wished she went scavenging with her family instead of refusing to participate. She tried to shake off her emotions, but she was unsuccessful.