Peeling the phone from my ear, I tossed it on the kitchen counter and made my way to the door. Seeing my movements, the young officer grabbed me from behind and hung on. I squirmed against his firm grip.
“It’s Travis at the door,” I explained.
He ignored me as the older policeman gave him a short nod and opened the door to the knock.
Travis stalked through, his presence overwhelming the small space. He ignored everything, his eyes searching my face before taking the length of me in carefully until he stood in front of me. Without moving his head, his eyes shifted to the young officer behind me, staring him down until he let go. Satisfied, Travis returned his eyes to mine.
“You okay?”
I managed a nod.
“Good.”
He took a step back, gaining distance, and I felt the loss. Hating that the simple movement affected me like it did, I said to the officers, “Thank you so much for your help today. Please let me know if you find him.” I looked everywhere but at Travis. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go and pack.”
Leaving the room, muffled conversation followed my retreating form. I blocked it out. I didn’t want to know what they were telling Travis. He could charm the pants off anyone—I knew that first hand—no doubt they were busy telling him anything he asked.
I dragged a suitcase from my wardrobe and set it on the bed, opening the zipper. Returning again from the wardrobe, I tossed in a pile of clothes. No more banging on the wall that separated Lucy and I, yelling obscenities and laughing at each other. I returned with another pile of clothes. No more Lucy slipping over in her pyjamas to fight over the remote because Rick was watching the footy on their television. I went back for an armload of shoes. No more cooking for Lucy and running it next door so she could pass it off to Rick as her own work. I tossed the shoes in. Oh my God, I would even miss her Step Up movies. Maybe. All of sudden it felt like I was losing her just like I’d lost everything I’d ever cared about, which was stupid, but it hurt. It fucking hurt.
My eyes were burning when a tentative knock came at the open doorway. “Quinn?”
I rubbed angrily at an escaped tear, embarrassed and sickened that Travis was seeing firsthand knowledge of what my life was, is, like. From the abusive family to the tiny townhouse with its stained linoleum floors, cheap furniture, and aged bathroom that boasted a tacky shower curtain that stuck to your bum whenever you tried to move.
“I don’t know why you came, Travis, but everything’s fine. You should get back to your family’s barbecue.”
I shoved at the clothes and shoes to make more room in the suitcase and turned back towards the wardrobe.
Travis walked into the room and sat down on the edge of my bed. “Talk to me.”
“No.”
I came back with another armload of shoes to him sitting there, elbows on his knees, staring at his linked hands. I paused long enough for his eyes to find mine. He exhaled audibly.
“Quinn,” he began, and stopped, swiping a hand across his jaw. “David, your…stepfather…the police say he assaulted you a few years back?”
The shoes tumbled out of my arms and scattered on the floor.
“Dammit,” I muttered. Crouching down, I reached for them, and said, “I really can’t talk about this, okay? I’m sure the police are out there doing…whatever it is they do, and everything will get sorted out.” I scrambled for the last shoe and once again holding the armload, tossed them in the suitcase.
“Stop,” he barked out. “Just stop.”
My intention was to ignore the order and keep focused on my task, but he grabbed my arm before I could make another move.
“Do you need me to call someone for you? Lucy? Justin?”
I frowned, shrugging off his hand. “Justin? Why would I want Justin…”
He shifted uncomfortably and suddenly his attitude became a little clearer. “Oh my God.”
Travis cocked a brow. “What?”
“You think Justin and I are… You think I slept with you while I had a boyfriend!”
His jaw ticked as he looked away.
“Oh my God, you did. You think I’m a slut!” I blurted out angrily. That made me feel about as fantastic as the old teddy bear my dog chewed on. The worst part was that a lifetime ago, I used to be just that. “Why did you even come here? Maybe you still had to earn your White Knight points for today. Mission accomplished. You can leave now.”
He exploded from the bed like a rocket, towering over me as he thundered, “What the fuck was I supposed to think? I woke up wanting to wrap myself all around you, but you were gone. Fuck! And then somehow you reappear and some guy is in your townhouse, walking your dog, making himself at home in your kitchen, lying on your couch while you cook dinner as though he’s done it a thousand times before!”
His chest was shifting rapidly up and down, eyes glaring as I stood speechless at the outburst.
A knock came at the front door.
“I wanted to wrap myself all around you…”
“Quinn?” someone called out.
“…but you were gone.”
The knock came louder. “Travis?”
“Fuck,” Travis muttered, his eyes flaring unhappily at the interruption. “Maybe we need to talk.”
That sentence was a bucket of cold water. I took a step back. He scratched at his head before dropping his hand wearily back to his side and left the room. I followed him out, standing by silently as he opened the front door and let Mitch inside.
Mitch’s eyes scanned over me. Satisfied, he looked around the room, taking in nothing untoward except Rufus growling and scratching at the sliding door to get inside.
His brows flew up. “That’s your dog?”
I nodded. “That’s Rufus.”
“Huh.”
Rufus tilted his head as we watched him for a moment.
“You okay?” Mitch asked.
After meeting Mitch on two occasions since he’d knocked me over with the door that morning, I’d come to discover he was a man of few words.
“Fine,” I replied, reflecting his efficient speak back at him.
He cocked a brow, disbelieving. “Read David’s file. He’s a piece of work.”
I nodded at that understatement.
Mitch folded his arms, leaning his hip against my kitchen counter. “When did he start hitting you, Quinn?”
Travis straightened from his casual stance against the doorframe. My eyes flicked his way. His face had paled and his body was locked tight. “This has happened before?”
How did Mitch know? I never told anyone, except Lucy and Rick, about the abuse I’d lived with. The only thing the police had on file was the assault that had sent me to hospital.
I cringed, rubbing at my brow as they waited for a response.
“Tell me he didn’t physically abuse you as a child, Quinn,” Travis bit out.
My eyes fell to the floor. “I can’t do that,” I said quietly.
“How old were you when it started?” he said equally as quietly, yet there was an edge in his voice.
My lips pressed flat.
“How old?” He roared.
I flinched.
“Travis,” Mitch warned, pushing away from the kitchen bench and taking a step forward.
I looked at Travis. His hands were fisted by his sides, knuckles clenching and unclenching. “David married Beth…” I couldn’t call her my mother because she wasn’t one. She was…I didn’t know what really. “…when I was seven. He was always a bully and even at that age I could recognise the malicious undercurrent in his attitude. When I was nine he lost his job and couldn’t get another. It all went downhill from there really. Then one day he just started disappearing during the day, so I assumed he got another job. It must have been a good one because suddenly he was cashed up and they were both so busy enjoying it, they were never home. I moved out when I was seventeen. That was when the…when…” I waved a hand. “Beth had left him not long after, you see, and he wa
s... well, not happy.”
A beat of silence passed.
Mitch’s eyes were trained on Travis. “Quinn, sweetheart,” he said, without looking away. “Why don’t you go finish packing your things?”
Because I liked Mitch’s thinking, I gave a jerky nod and started for the bedroom. Travis reached out and snagged my wrist as I walked past him. My breath caught as I looked from the warm hand wrapped around my skin to his eyes. They were pained. “Pack enough for a few days,” he said hoarsely.
“Okay,” I whispered.
He let go and I left the room. When the front door clicked open and closed, raised voices could be heard from the other side. I sank to the edge of the bed, wringing a shirt in my hands. Where the hell was I supposed to go?
I wasn’t sure how long I sat there, but when Travis came back into my room, the shirt in my hands was a lost cause. I tossed it into the suitcase behind me with a sigh.
Travis crouched in front of me so we were at eye level and rested his hands on my thighs.
“Quinn…” He paused and blew out a breath. “What you told us back there? I don’t how you managed to explain it all without actually telling us anything. That’s quite a talent you’ve got.”
“I…”
Travis quirked a brow when I trailed off. “You?”
“I…”
His lips twitched and my heart lifted a little, so I smiled at him. He returned it, and just like that, the hardness shifted from his face.
“Justin is Lucy’s brother,” I told him and explained our business trade. “He moved to Brisbane last week after finishing uni.”
Travis nodded. “What about your father?”
“I don’t have one,” I said simply. “There’s nothing listed on my birth certificate, and Beth says…” I looked down at my lap “...she says it could be anyone.”
I started shaking, just like Rufus did during a thunderstorm, and gripped my hands together. He rubbed gently along my thighs. It was meant as a comfort, but the soothing gesture only increased my need to fall apart.
“Don’t. Please,” I whispered and nudged his hands away.
Travis pulled back, searching my face, and he nodded. Somehow he understood that I couldn’t handle gentle right now, and that only made me want him more.
***
After a brief phone call with Mac, she told me the duplex had a spare room since Evie moved out. It was decided I would stay there—temporarily I’d replied—until I had time to find something more permanent.
Now I was standing on the sidewalk, leash in hand, Rufus sitting to my left as we watched Travis toss my bags in the back of Mitch’s car. Then he proceeded to fit the bag I’d packed for Rufus, and his bed, into the backseat. After he was done, Travis swung his leg over that black, metal deathtrap and looked at me expectantly.
“You…” I shook my head. “I’m not…” I nodded towards Suzi-Q. “My car is over there,” I pointed out.
“No.”
“No?”
Mitch chuckled from the driver’s seat of his angry, black Subaru.
“While David’s out there, you’re not going anywhere on your own.”
“I’m not? But…he’s not going to attack me in my car.”
Travis and Mitch shared a meaningful glance.
“I mean, look at that car.” I gestured at the Subaru. “Rufus can’t sit in there. He’ll leave fur on that clean upholstery. He’ll slobber all over those nice, shiny windows.” I even mentioned the sagging passenger seat where Rufus had fearfully ripped out a chunk of padding once when we’d been rear-ended.
Mitch grinned at Travis. “That’s okay. It’s not my car.”
“Then whose is it?”
“Mine,” Travis replied.
After I buckled Rufus in and shut the front passenger door, the window licking began. I shrugged at Travis. I did warn him. His response was to gun the engine impatiently.
My heart pounding, I swung my leg over and climbed on in a manoeuvre that wasn’t entirely graceful. My chest was pressed against his back, and my body throbbed from the contact as he instructed me on where to put my feet.
Travis turned his head. “Hold on.”
I hesitated and with both feet firmly planted on the ground to hold us steady, he grabbed my hands and pulled them around his waist. Without thinking, my hand ran lightly over his stomach. The muscled ridges were warm and hard. I closed my eyes when he placed his hand over mine for a brief moment.
“Okay?” he asked.
“Yes,” I lied, having to shout over the thundering growl.
After taking the scenic roads to Coogee, we eventually rumbled into the driveway. I pulled away reluctantly and peeled myself off the back of the motorcycle. The feeling had reminded me of when I went horse riding at a school friend’s birthday party when I was nine. Beth had been thrilled to get me out of her hair for the day, and I’d been thrilled to leave. Riding that horse had been the first time I felt carefree and happy since David moved into our house. They had to get one of the parents to pry me off because I refused to and all the little girls waiting their turn were getting upset. I’d howled and thrown a tantrum when David had to come early to collect me. Then I was taught my very first painful lesson.
Blinking back tears, I wrestled Rufus into the backyard while Mitch and Travis carried in our things. Shutting the sliding door, he whined as he watched me return to the living room where Mitch and Travis stood talking.
“I’ll just take these bags up to Evie’s old room,” Mitch murmured at my approach. Picking up my suitcase and some bedding, he disappeared upstairs.
Alone again, Travis reached for my hand and pulled me a little closer. “Quinn.” He rubbed his lips together. “I really want…” he began and paused. It was the first time I’d seen him unsure of himself. “I can’t—”
The door flew open loudly, Mac storming through. “I can’t believe this fucking shit,” she burst out.
Henry was hot on her heels, followed by Evie with Jared—Peter tucked under his armpit like a football—and the rest of the band until the living room was full.
“Are you okay, Quinn?”
My mouth fell open at the same time my purse started ringing. I ignored it. “Why are you all here and not at the barbecue?”
“Shit seems to be going down, and you’re involved Quinn. That’s why,” Evie answered. “We’re experts at shit going down.”
Jared looked at her and shook his head, as though remembering shit going down and not wanting to.
Mac folded her arms and Henry found his way to my side. “What’s going on?”
Eyes were focused on me as everyone waited for an answer. “I’ll tell you later,” I murmured softly to Henry.
Jake folded his arms, mimicking Mac’s stance, and demanded, “No. If there’s something going on, you can tell all of us.”
“Quinn,” Evie said, her eyes radiating sympathy in tsunami like waves. “If you’re in trouble, it’s now our trouble.”
“So you may as well tell us,” Cooper added.
I sank into the couch behind me. My legs were like jelly, and not the good kind, the green kind that had your insides churning. “My stepfather is a bit angry with me right now.”
Henry flopped down on the couch next to me with a heavy sigh. He swiped the remote off the coffee table and sat back without turning the television on.
“Why is he angry with you?” Mac asked.
“Because he just got out of prison and uh…I was the one that put him there.”
Mitch returned from upstairs to a full living room.
“Thanks Mitch,” I called out.
He nodded.
Henry turned his head to look at me. “Your place isn’t safe?”
I shook my head. “But I have a restraining order.”
Everyone went silent, processing what I’d just told them.
“Well,” Mac said, “we all know a restraining order is just a piece of paper. We need to teach Quinn how to shoot.”
&
nbsp; Henry pointed at her. “You’re not doing it.”
“Jesus Christ,” Jared barked and sank into the recliner. Peter curled happily into his lap as Jared eyed Evie and Mac in turn. “Remember what happened last time you two went all Thelma and Louise? Not happening.”
Evie’s eyes flattened irritably. “Are you forgetting the ace shot I pulled off that saved Mac’s life?” She waved in Mac’s general direction as though introducing evidence of Mac’s living, breathing status to support her case. “If anyone’s teaching Quinn how to shoot, it’s going to be me. I’m a better shot than all of you.”
“Who says ace?” Cooper smirked. “That sounds dumb.”
“You’re dumb,” Evie retorted.
“Why don’t you just move in here permanently?” Mac asked me.
“Really?” The anxiety lifted a little from my shoulders. “Oh, but…I have Rufus.”
“Who’s Rufus?” Jake asked.
“Quinn’s horse,” Mac replied.
Cooper’s eyes went wide. “You have a horse?”
Travis sighed heavily, putting his hands on his hips. “Rufus is a dog.”
“Holy fucking shit!”
Everyone’s eyes flew to where Frog stood by the dining table. The container of biscuits I’d brought with me was wide open and he was busy stuffing them in his face. “Who the fuck made these?”
I cleared my throat. “That would be me.”
“Quinn’s moving in next door with me,” he announced, grabbing another as he came and flopped onto the couch next to me. He shoved a handful of silky, dark hair behind his ear as he bit into another one.
Henry slung an arm around my shoulders, using the other to reach across and grab at the biscuit in Frog’s hand.
“Hey!” Frog shouted.
He yanked his hand back a little too late. The biscuit tore in half and Henry crowed his victory as a whole bunch of crumbs from the tussle fell in my lap.
Henry shoved it in his mouth and aimed a smirk Frog’s way. “Quinn’s mine.” Then he turned to me and added seriously, “But we have rules in this house.”