Something Like Redemption (Something Like Normal #2) (23 page)

But Abi gets it. “It was beautiful.”

A tear slides down my cheek, and Quinn is instantly at my side, wrapping a hand around my waist.

“Be safe, Mia,” Abi whispers, and I can hear she too, is crying.

“I will.” I sniff loudly and wipe my nose with the back of my hand.

“Tell Quinn I say hello, and he better have done what I told him to,” she says, half laughing, half sniffling.

I laugh, which comes out muffled, as I’m still crying.

I know she’s referring to him taking me out in New Orleans, and I wish I could tell her all about it. I need my friend to give me the advice I so desperately need.

“He did,” I reply, totally distracted by his bright green eyes.

Abi claps her hands happily. “Based on that response, it’s safe to say you had fun?”

“You wouldn’t believe how much,” I reply, smirking at Quinn, so he knows we’re talking about him.

Abi claps again. “I can’t wait to hear all about it. I miss you so much,” she says sadly.

“I miss you too, Abi,” I reply softly. “I better get going,” I say unhappily, hating to cut it short.

“Okay, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Bye, Mia.”

“Bye, Abi.” I hang up, wishing I could talk for hours.

“Everything okay?” Quinn asks when I remain in the phone box, my hand resting on the receiver, wishing I never had to let go.

Shrugging, I step out into the cool breeze.

“Well, the good news is, Tristan is out of hospital. I think he was being a right royal pain in the ass, so they discharged him early.”

The relief is clear as it passes over Quinn’s features, and he fists his long hair. “That’s my boy,” he says with a smirk. “So, what’s the bad news?”

I bite my lip. “Abi said my dad is always a step behind us.”

“Fuck,” Quinn says, wrapping an arm around my waist protectively and hugging me.

“How does he know where we’re going?” he asks, concern reflected in his tone.

“Because he knows me, Quinn. No matter what, I am his daughter, and he knows I’m eventually going to end up in Canada to find my mom,” I mumble against his chest.

That fact depresses me. He knew before I did where my heart would lead me, and that is to my mom.

“So we won’t go to Canada. We’ll go to Mexico instead. It’ll buy us some time,” he says, pulling out of the embrace.

“No, we’ve gotta go to Canada. Abi’s dad told us to go there until he figures out what to do,” I reply, and suddenly, I’m so tired all I want to do is sleep.

Quinn clenches his jaw. “I hate that he’s so close to you.”

“Me too,” I confess, my head hanging low. “But now that we’ve got some direction on where we’re headed, we can play it smart.”

“What do you mean?” Quinn asks softly, raising my downcast chin with two fingers to meet his questioning gaze.

Giving him a small smile, I reply, “Tabitha said not to listen to my gut, so we can throw my dad off. If I feel like I want to go left, then I should go right.”

Quinn nods, sucking on his piercing in thought. “That’s pretty good advice.” However, as his face contorts and his chest heaves, I know what he is thinking.

“What about Justin… The Jockstrap?” he smirks at his clever pet name.

Biting my lip, attempting to contain my smile, I reply, “Quinn, that’s not nice.”

“I never said I was trying to be nice,” he rebukes, pulling me toward him by my belt loops and kissing the tip of my nose.

“Well, he did say he’s going to Canada,” I reply, biting my lip, afraid of Quinn’s response.

Quinn shakes his head in sheer defiance, and by the repulsed look in his eye, I’m quite certain that’s not going to happen.

“There is no way I’m driving all the way to Canada with him.”

“I know, Quinn, but with my dad and the police breathing down our necks, any stolen car or suspicious sightings will draw attention our way,” I plead, hoping to appeal to his rational side, as his irrational side is being a total ass.

“Red… I
will
kill him,” Quinn plainly says, and I tend to believe him.

“What other choice do we have?” I ask, knowing if I had to ride with someone who I felt threatened by, I would probably be behaving the same way as Quinn—maybe not as crazy.

Actually, who am I kidding? Quinn and I are just as bad as each other.

“Okay, if you really don’t want to do this, then I understand,” I say with a sigh. “We can do it your way.”

Quinn looks as if I’ve just told him unicorns are real. “Did I just hear you correctly?” he says, smiling like a pig in shit.

I slap him on the arm lightly. “Stop being such a jackass. If riding with Justin makes you that uncomfortable, then we won’t do it. Simple.”

Quinn smirks sweetly. “He’s the one who will be uncomfortable when I stick my foot so far up his ass, he can’t sit down.”

“Quinn.”

“Red,” he parrots with a grin.

“I mean it. If we’re not going to ride with Justin, then we need to come up with another plan,” I reply, hoping to God we don’t need to think of something else, as I’m fresh out of ideas.

Quinn sighs, finally seeing reason. “You’re right. But it doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

Leaning forward, I wrap my arms around his waist and bury my head into his welcoming chest.

“It’s only till we get to Canada,” I whisper, lost in his warmth and smell.

“Well, Canada can’t get here soon enough,” Quinn says, his chest rumbling against my ear.

I couldn’t agree more.

Chapter 19

Phone Home

Day two of our road trip is no better than day one. Quinn has decided the only ‘person’ he wants to speak to today is Lucky. He seemed to be angry at me the moment we packed our bags and hit the road early this morning, as Justin said he didn’t have to stay in town after all.

I’m not sure what I’ve done, but I’m hoping once we stop, he’ll shed some light on the subject. Justin was thrilled to have us accompany him to Canada. Sadly, Quinn was not.

We’ve been on the road since first light and headed to a town just outside of Missouri to stay for a couple of days, because Justin needs to stop over for work. I’d rather not stay in a place for longer than a few hours, but what other choice do we have?

We travel in silence for many hours, only stopping for gas and food, but thankfully once we finally pull up at our hotel, I’m grateful for two reasons. The first is: my butt is asleep, and secondly, I need to separate Quinn and Justin, who are seconds away from killing each other.

The silence in the truck has been deafening, and if I hear Quinn huff one more time, I’m going to gag him.

Justin has caught onto the fact that he gets under Quinn’s skin whenever he touches me, or whenever his eyes linger on me for too long. Previously, those actions were innocent, but now he seems to be doing it just to piss Quinn off, but I could just be reading into things.

Justin turns to address me, and only me. “Just going to check us in, Mia Mouse,” he says with a grin. “Remember I used to call you that in high school?”

Giving him a strained smile, I try not cringe at the nickname. “Yeah, I sure do.”

Unfastening his seatbelt, he turns to me, raising his pierced brow. “You never asked why I called you that. Weren’t you ever curious why?”

Not really, no. Justin’s nickname for me was the least of my concerns, but I play along.

“Sure I was,” I lamely say. “I was just—”

“Too busy for a geek like me,” he adds with a smile.

That’s so far from the truth, but I see no point in correcting him as this is just trivial, nostalgic bullshit.

“Well, just in case you’re curious now, I called you that because you were as quiet and small as a mouse, but you had the whole school terrified of you. You could get a classroom full of shallow airheads running in the opposite direction with your presence alone.”

Ha, who would have though a mouse could be so powerful?

“Thanks—I think.” I chuckle, as the nickname is kind of cute, in a creepy, rodent kind of way.

“Anytime, my little mouse,” Justin smirks, placing his hand on my knee, which is poking through a hole in my jeans.

I feel my face heat as Quinn listens to our conversation, no doubt about ready to explode.

“How about you fu—” Quinn snarls, but I don’t allow him to finish as I subtly remove my knee and unbuckle my seatbelt, as it’s suffocating me. I say over Quinn, “Food. How about Quinn and I find some food, and you check us in?”

Justin smirks, and I know we have about three seconds to exit the truck before Quinn checks Justin into a hospital.

“Great idea. Bring me back something juicy,” Justin says, eyeing me, but thankfully exits the car without another word.

The truck’s walls are closing in on me, and I too jump out, desperate for some fresh air. The door slams shut, and I tell myself to man up and face the inevitable.

Risking a small peek at Quinn, who looks like he’s about to break anything in sight, I say light heartedly, “C’mon, Sparrow, lead the way.”

Quinn breaks his evil stare off with Justin, and all I get is a grunt in response—great.

“Hey, why does he get a nickname? Where’s mine?” Justin says, stalling from unloading the bags from the tray.

Taking a deep breath, and hoping this comment doesn’t bite me in the ass, I reply, “That’s because he’s my boy.”

I watch Justin’s face drop, as this is the first time I have really clarified what Quinn is to me. I don’t feel comfortable putting a label on it, but I feel I need to clarify that Quinn and I are more than just friends.

However, I instantly feel horrible as Justin nods and clears his throat before saying, “I’ll just go and check us in then.” He walks off, not being able to get away from me fast enough.

I close my eyes and sigh, feeling beyond awful for saying something that obviously upset Justin, especially when he’s helping us out. Rethinking my ingenious decision, I feel Quinn wrap his arms around my middle, his front pressing to my back.

“I’m your boy, huh?” he whispers, his warm breath tickling my earlobe.

At least he’s talking to me now.

I nod in response, leaning back into his embrace as I missed his warmth during the car ride over here.

“I would have preferred man, or strapping young lad, but boy will do,” he says comically, biting my neck softly.

The mewl which passes through my lips is involuntary, and Quinn chuckles his confident laugh, knowing I’m melting under his touch. Before I know what’s happening, Quinn presses me up against the passenger door, his hard contours molding to my back.

“Red, I meant what I said,” he says, his arms tightening around my middle while he kisses under my jaw.

Interlacing my fingers through his and leaning my head back, allowing him better access to the needy flesh of my neck, I whisper, barely audibly, “What did you say?”

“I will kill him if he touches you,” is his simple reply as his lips suck my skin delicately.

The harlot in me is jumping up and down, elated that Quinn is so possessive, but I know I need to simmer down Quinn’s temper, otherwise without Justin, we’re screwed.

“Please, Quinn, can you do this for me? And do you think you could try to be less homicidal?” I plead on a gasp as he bites my shoulder, his sharp teeth grazing my inflamed skin.

Quinn moans softly, his arousal digging into my back.

“Okay, but only because you begged,” he says, and with one final kiss on my neck he pulls away, leaving me panting, needy, and extremely turned on.

It takes a minute for my beating heart to cease from thumping like a bass drum, and I slowly turn to face my boy, or should I say, man.

I know Quinn has baggage, baggage which gives him nightmares. Baggage that he feels will change the way I feel about him if I ever found out what it contained. But what he doesn’t realize is we all have baggage. Ours is just a little more fucked up than others, and that’s what draws us to one another—two broken, fucked up souls.

We are possessive, jealous, and protective over each other, but that’s because I feel we have found the missing piece of the puzzle. And the missing piece of my puzzle is Quinn. I can only hope that I am his—in every sense of the word.

Quinn smirks at me, as I’m sure he can see me mulling over this whole fucked up situation.

“Let’s eat,” he says, his eyes heated as he licks over his lip ring, and I can’t help but feel he’s sizing me up for his next meal.

I nod, brushing my long hair out of my face. “Let’s call the diner first,” I manage to get out, surprised I’m able to speak without it involving the words, ‘Kiss me again.’

Quinn reaches for my hand and we silently cross the street to use the payphone near the gas station.

Reaching into my bag, I pull out a handful of quarters, extending my palm to Quinn.

“Did you want to call? I’m sure Tristan will be waiting by the phone,” I say.

Quinn runs his long fingers through his hair and nods. The strain around his deep eyes reveals that he’s anxious, but also excited to talk to his baby brother. He picks up the receiver, feeding coin after coin into the phone and quickly dials the diner. As he chews on his lip ring, waiting for it to connect, I decide to walk away to give him some privacy.

But Quinn quickly reaches for my arm to stop me from leaving, and nods. “Stay.”

So I do.

As soon as I hear Tristan’s voice, tears instantly prick my eyes.

“Hey bro,” Quinn says, and my tears fall the moment his face tips up into a beautiful smile.

I can faintly hear Tristan on the other end. “Quinn?”

“Yeah, it’s me. How you feeling? Did any hot nurses give you a sponge bath when you were cooped up in hospital?”

I roll my eyes and Quinn chuckles.

“Good to see things haven’t changed,” Tristan laughs. “How are you? How’s Mia?”

“We’re both good. Well, as good as good can be, considering,” Quinn replies, rubbing my cheek with his thumb affectionately.