Give Me Strength (13 page)

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
was... 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.”

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.”