Under the Gun (CEP Book 3) (8 page)

“No! No, I’m not okay! God!” After explaining what’d happened she remarked, “I’m fucked up, aren’t I?”

Tilly gave her a little smile. “No, honey, you’re not.” She shrugged. “You like him.”

“But I don’t wanna like him.”

Now Tilly laughed. “Well, then you’ll have to work on that.”

“Thanks,” Quinn replied glumly.

“It’s gonna be okay. I promise.”

“Sure it will.”

Rod walked into the studio just then. “Knock knock.”

Quinn saw Tilly tense up which she knew was because she didn’t like Rod since she always said she could tell when Quinn had been around him because he screwed with her head usually leaving her a mess. But Quinn didn’t feel that way. She knew he tried to manipulate her, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle. All in all, he really wasn’t a bad guy. He just wasn’t
the
guy.

“Hey, honey,” Quinn said, going over and looping an arm around his.

“Where’ve you been?”

“Just went to the bathroom then Tilly was showing me her new photos.”

Rod looked at Tilly, eyebrow raised, assessing her which made Tilly look irked. “That true, Tilly?” he asked.

Tilly frowned. “Of course it is. Why would Quinn lie?”

He shrugged. “No reason, I guess.” He looked down at Quinn. “You ready to blow this joint?”

Quinn normally would’ve stayed but because of the circumstances, she was more than ready to leave. “Yeah. Let me tell Till goodbye and I’ll meet you at the front door.”

Rod leaned down and kissed Quinn’s cheek but what she didn’t see was the glare he gave Tilly as he did.

“Okay.” He looked at his watch then raised an eyebrow at her pausing as he always did. “I’ll give you five minutes. ‘Night, Tilly.”

After he left, Quinn looked at her friend. “I know. You hate him. I’ve got it under control.”

“Uh huh.”

“I do. But I
am
gonna leave now ‘cause I can’t risk seeing Gunner again.”

“Be careful, Quinn.”

“Always.” She smiled and left the room.

“You fucked him, didn’t you?”

They were back at Quinn’s apartment and Rod had questioned her nonstop the entire taxi ride back.

And she’d had it with him.

“Yes! I did! And you’ve slept with other women! We never said we were exclusive anyway, Rod!” she explained exasperatedly.

“I don’t mean before. I mean tonight,” …pause… “at the fucking party.”

She could only look at him in annoyance, so finished with explanations.

He let out a huff and stomped to the door. Turning, he pointed a finger at her, “You’ll regret this, Quinn. You know you’ll miss me.” He stepped out into the hallway giving her one last look before slamming the door behind him.

She stood staring at the door for a moment waiting for the tears to come, anything, but actually felt nothing.

“Huh,” she murmured before locking the door.

Sunday just before noon, Quinn lay in bed staring at her ceiling thinking about the events of the night before.

Let’s see: Slept with a man she wanted nothing to do with because she knew he’d break her heart. Check.

Had another man, who’d been her date, break up with her because she’d slept with the aforementioned man at the party. Check.

“Batting a thousand, McDonnell,” she grumbled, getting out of bed and heading to her bathroom. Once finished, she pulled on her robe and went to the kitchen to drink her caffeinated water. And that’s when her phone rang.

“How’d it go last night?” Tilly asked. After being filled in on the details, she let out a, “Wow.”

“Yep. So now I’m FWB-less too.”

“Uh, can’t say I’m not thrilled. He was bad for you.”

“Nothing to worry about now. That ship has sailed.”

“You don’t need a man,” Tilly reminded.

“Says the woman with the hunk of burning love in her bed every night. But you’re right. I’ll be fine. Damn. Now I need to go buy batteries.”

Tilly snorted.

“And there lies my future, Till. I’ll be burnin’ up a pack of Rayovacs a week.” Quinn sighed.

“You’ll be fine. Promise.”

“Yeah? Well, don’t count on it. I hear sometimes batteries leak. So be ready to find me in my bed, vibe in my cooch dead of first degree battery acid burns. It’ll make for a lovely casket viewing.”

“Oh, lord,” Tilly said with a laugh. “Come over for lunch.”

“Can’t. Have to run to the office and look over some things for tomorrow.”

“Okay. You want me to come with?”

Quinn opened her front door to retrieve her newspaper. “Nope. Gotta pull up some transcriptions from a couple years ago. One of my ex-clients killed himself last week. He was only eighteen. I received an injunction to give copies of the files to the parents.”

“Did you check the peephole? I don’t know why I’m asking because I know you didn’t. And, aw, honey, that’s so sad. I’m really sorry.”

“Yeah. Me too. Ben was a good kid. Had a weird older stepbrother, though. Timmy? Tommy? Something like that. Anyway, I remember Ben always talking about how scared he was of him. I talked to the parents then actually to this Tommy kid himself, he was your average prep school asshole punk thinking he was all that, but I could never pinpoint what the issue behind everything was. Mostly jealousy, I’m pretty sure. And I wouldn’t doubt if he had something to do with Ben’s death.”

“He wasn’t molesting his little brother, was he?”

“No, I never got that feeling from either of them. I just recall it being very strange. The kid had some kind of hold over Ben.”

“Hm. Well, I’m sorry it all happened. But call me later to let me know you’re good, okay?” Tilly requested.

“Will do. Love you. Bye!” Quinn answered then sat at her bar to read the paper. Annnnd her phone rang again. Looking at the screen, she huffed seeing that it was Rod and let it go to voicemail. When her phone beeped, she listened to what he had to say.

--Baby, I’m sorry about last night. You forgive me? I’d like to have dinner tonight if you’re available. Give me a call back. Bye, sweetheart.

She texted him back.

--Have to go to the office to print out some files. Remember the boy who killed himself? Family coming tomorrow. I’ll call you later.

Quinn stayed longer at her office than she planned. She hadn’t remembered what a troubled young man Ben had been nor how much she’d documented about him and reading over it had her intrigued.

As she looked through her printed out notes, Ben’s brother Tommy’s name showed up over and over and her gut was screaming at her that he had to have had something to do with Ben’s suicide.

Ben: I love Tommy. I do. But he’s really intense. He makes me do things.

QM: What kinds of things?

Ben: I don’t know.

QM: How does he make you do things, Ben?

Ben: He tells me if I don’t do them I’m a coward.

QM: Are these things illegal?

Ben: Sometimes.

QM: Can you tell me something he’s made you do?

Ben: Some boys had put their skateboards against a tree in the park and Tommy dared me to take one. He said if I didn’t, he wouldn’t let me go to the Justin Timberlake concert with him.

QM: So you took a skateboard?

Ben: Yes. Then we pawned it and used the money to get hotdogs from a street vendor.

As Quinn pulled the most recent files, she remembered how Ben had worn an unusual leather bracelet that had an eye on it. The reason it came to mind is that he used to worry the thing the entire time they’d talked. Twisting, turning, taking it off then putting it back on. When she’d asked him about it once, he’d told her it’d been a gift from Tommy who’d told him it’d help Ben “see” things more clearly.

Now as she continued reading, she saw that things had only gotten darker as time went by.

Ben: Tommy told me to bring my girlfriend home and he was going to hide in my bedroom closet and watch us have sex.

QM: How did this make you feel?

Ben: I didn’t want to do it. But I did it anyway. Tommy said all the guys did it. That it was a sort of initiation and I’d be part of the cool group if I did.

Flipping through more pages, she came upon a particularly brutal session they’d had.

Ben: Tommy made me go with him and his friends one night down by the Hudson and there was a dead dog. They all told me I had to cut its heart out. At first I didn’t want to, but Tommy handed me this big knife and told me to do it or they’d leave me there.

QM: And what happened?

Ben: I did it. Then they told me I had to eat it. But no way. I threw it at one of the guys and ran for the car. Now way could I do that.

That particular session had Quinn’s stomach rolling, but she recalled that by the end of their appointments, Ben had seemed more confident. He told her about how he’d stood up to Tommy a few times which she’d praised. But that’s where the sessions had ended. The stepfather’s job had started requiring him to travel out of the country more and Ben’s mother had informed Quinn that she couldn’t keep taking him to the sessions what with having two other children under age ten.

Quinn had advised they continue, that they were making headway, but she couldn’t convince the mother and that’d been the end of it.

She sat back in her chair as a strong wave of sadness rolled through her at the poor boy’s fate. She knew the parents had to be devastated and wondered how they’d respond upon reading everything.

Hearing something in the office, she got up to see if Daphne had come in for something, but when she opened her door, no one was there. She knew she was creeped out from reading over everything, so going back in her office, she placed the documents in a file to hand over to the parents the next day.

When she left, she swore a light in the office that she hadn’t turned on was on, but she chalked it up to being on edge from all her reading. So turning it out, she headed back to her apartment, stopping by Saiguette for takeout on the way.

Chapter 8

Pow! Pow! Pow! Pow! Pow! Pow! Pow! Pow!

“Damn, son, letting some aggression out?” Quaid asked Gunner as he took off his earmuffs and shooting glasses.

It was Monday morning and they were at the shooting range.

Gunner gave Quaid the side-eye and continued firing away at the paper target hung up ten yards away. When his magazine was spent, he pushed a button that brought the target to him.

“Fuck,” Quaid said under his breath at seeing the target not only had a fucking smiley face blown into it, but Gunner had also hit the heart in a circular pattern.

Gunner grinned at him removing his eye and ear equipment. “Yeah,
fuck.
As in, don’t fuck with me.
Son
.”

“Touchy little prick today, aren’t ya?”

“Just not in the mood.”

“Why? Women problems?” Quaid asked. He looked at his target then at Gunner’s. “Damn. You’ve gotta teach me how to take off the percentages.”

“Yeah.” With his toe, Gunner pushed a casing on the floor toward a couple others.