Give Me Strength (14 page)

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.”

My brows drew together. “You do?”

“We do?” Mac echoed.

“You gotta walk around in your underwear.”

“Henry!” Evie yelled. She yanked a couch cushion
out from behind Jared and flung it at Henry’s head. It bounced off
harmlessly and settled on the floor.

“Not you two,” Henry replied, shuddering
theatrically. “God! You’re like my sisters. Seeing you both in your
itty bitties makes me wanna sandblast my eyes.”

“Well think of Quinn like your sister,” Mac
snapped out.

When my eyes fell on Travis, he was frowning at
Henry.

My purse buzzed again and thankful for the
interruption, I stood, scattering biscuit crumbs to the floor.
Peter was quick to remove himself from Jared’s lap and scrambled
over to hoover the mess.

“Excuse me,” I told the room, and picking up my
phone, I answered the call. “Lucy.” I left the living room for the
back deck. Peter charged out behind me, and Rufus fell on him in a
giant, quivery mass of furry elation.

“You called and didn’t leave a message,” was her
irritated reply. Lucy hated when people didn’t leave a message, but
she had an automated answer service because she couldn’t work out
her messagebank. No one liked leaving messages on an automated
service.

“Lucy.” I watched Peter yip as Rufus bounded in
circles around him. “David’s out.”

“He’s what?” she whipped out.

I sucked a deep breath into my lungs and let it
out slowly. “David’s out of prison.”

There was a pause. “How do you know that?”

There was another pause where I thought about
how to explain without Lucy going all Uma Thurman in
Kill
Bill
.

“Oh my God. Where are you?” she asked. “Are you
okay? Oh God, oh God, oh God,” she chanted. “Answer me,
dammit.”

“I’m okay. I’m at the duplex.”

“Thank fuck,” she moaned.

I sat down at the outdoor table and gave her a
quick overview.

“I’m coming over,” she announced.

I was so relieved tears burned my eyes. “Thanks,
Luce,” I whispered. Knowing she would drive like a bat out of hell
to get here, I added, “Drive safe.”

She growled something in reply before hanging
up.

“Quinn?”

I looked up. Evie was standing there, two
glasses of wine in her hands. She plopped one down in front of me
and took the opposite seat. She looked effortlessly sexy in her
black skinny jeans and three-quarter sleeved silver top. Her hair
tumbled down her back in a wild riot of waves. It made me realise
my own was a windblown mess. I brushed at it self-consciously.

“I’ve sent everyone away. Mac and Henry have
gone shopping, and the boys are next door. It’s just us—sort of.
Jared, Travis, and Mitch are still inside. I just…” She paused, her
eyes filling a little. “I know we don’t know the full story, but I
know what it’s like to have someone after you. It’s like a black,
heavy weight on your chest like you can’t get a breath. I had a
stalker. It wasn’t even a fan,” she muttered with a short laugh.
“Just some asshole that was pissed off at Jared.” She picked up her
glass while nudging mine towards me. “In the end I was given an
opening and went after him myself.” She grinned at me before taking
a sip of wine and sitting it back down. “Can you imagine Jared’s
reaction?”

If he was anything like Travis, I was pretty
sure I could.

“He freaked out actually and left me. Blamed
himself for the whole bloody thing.” She looked down at her
hands.

“But you two are so madly in love?”

“We are. It wasn’t until later, when I got past
the anger, that I realised being apart from me was killing him just
as much. We worked through it though.”

“The papers say that you…” I trailed off,
realising I was dredging up memories for her that were best left
alone.

“I did. I shot that man and he died, and I’d
never been more scared in all my life. But do you know what Jared
said?”

I shook my head in reply.

“He said, ‘Courage is fighting fear head on,
baby. As long as you have that, you’ll get through.’” Her chin
pushed into her neck as she growled out the words in imitation of
Jared and I giggled.

“But do you know what he doesn’t know?”

I shook my head again and took a sip of the
warm, red wine.

“Having him behind me, and all my friends…” she
waved a hand around towards the duplex “…is what gave me that
courage. We’re your friends now, Quinn. Granted, we might not know
you that well yet, but I know enough. We all know enough to see the
sweetness in your smile and the shadows in your eyes. If you need
courage, Quinn, know that we’re standing behind you.”

I didn’t know how to respond. “Thanks,
Evie.”

She nodded and downed the rest of her wine,
urging me to do the same. Finished, she grabbed my hand. “Come on.
There’s a brand new bed in my old room. I bought it and took my old
one to our house at Bondi. We can put some sheets on it for
you.”

We passed through the kitchen where Travis,
Jared, and Mitch appeared involved in a heated discussion. Silence
fell and I could feel their eyes on us while we raided the linen
cupboard. Evie filled my arms with sheets and thick quilts, and I
stumbled up the stairs behind her, finally disappearing from their
view.

Evie insisted on putting the bed together while
I put my things away in the wardrobe, chattering all the while
about the single Jamieson was due to release later that month. Soon
we were done and could hear Mac and Henry returning, bringing Lucy
in their wake because I could hear her talking loudly.

“We’re back,” Mac shouted up the stairs, “and
I’ve got the makings for mojitos! Arriba, arriba!”

“That’s Mexican, Mactard,” we heard Henry
say.

“What’s Mexican?”

“Arriba, arriba,” he replied.

“So?”

“Mojitos are Cuban,” I heard Travis say.

“What the fuck ever,” Mac said, clearly
irritated.

I shuddered. Mojitos weren’t my thing. It was
the limes. Lucy made a bad prawn and lime risotto once, and the
four of us—Rick, Lucy, Justin and I—had been up sick all night. I’d
hunched over the toilet and tossed what I was sure was every cookie
I’d ever eaten in my entire life. Limes and I had never collided
since.

When Evie left I promised I would be down in a
minute, yet when I left, I wound my way to the back deck to check
on Rufus. Dusk was coming. The air was getting chilly and a pink
glow was warming the horizon. I pulled my cardigan tightly together
and folded my arms when the sound of someone lighting a cigarette
came from my right. Glancing sideways, Travis was caught in the
illuminated glow. He was leaning back in the deck chair, elbows
resting casually along the timber arms as he exhaled a long plume
of smoke.

“You smoke?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes. When I need to
think.”

I forced my legs to approach where he sat. “It
hasn’t been the best day.”

Travis met my eyes without moving, and I thought
my heart would beat out of my chest. “You could say that.”

“Look,” I began, and scratched awkwardly at my
brow. “About today. I appreciate you helping out. I’m sorry I got
you involved in my mess but you shouldn’t feel obligated
after…after…”

His jaw clenched as he leaned over and stubbed
his cigarette out in the nearby ashtray. He stood up, close enough
that his chest brushed against mine. I took a step back.

He cocked a brow at me. “After I fucked
you?”

My cheeks flamed wildly, even as lust had the
breath leaving my body at the thought of him doing it again. “I
haven’t made that common knowledge.”

“Christ,” he muttered.

“What?”

He shook his head irritably. “You think I helped
you because I fucked you and now I’m gonna tell everyone?”

God. He needed to stop saying that. I took
another step back. “That’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean then?”

“Effing hell, Quinn, get your butt inside right
this— Oh...”

We turned towards the door. Lucy stood there
with her mouth open. She cleared her throat. “Sorry, I’m just
gonna…” she indicated behind her with a hand wave. She winked at me
and disappeared inside.

My eyes returned to Travis. I had no idea what
to say. With one last lingering look at his face, I turned and
retreated back inside.

***

“Oh my fucking God,
Mac. I thought you said you knew how to make mojitos?” Evie
yelled.

Returning to the living room, I passed by Jared
and Mitch in the office. Mac and Evie were both busy blending up a
storm in the kitchen, and Henry and Lucy were on the couch.

She met my eyes with indecision. She didn’t know
whether to tackle me to the ground in excitement at seeing me with
Travis, or smother me out of fear after what happened today.

“Sit down on the couch, Quinn,” Mac yelled over
the roar of the blender. “It’s mojito time!”

The last thing I felt like doing was sitting
around drinking and chatting. Today had been a wild roller coaster
ride, and whenever I got off those things I always felt like I was
going to fall off the end of the earth. Now it seemed the current
plan was to add alcohol to that. And limes. Yet I found myself
sinking into the couch anyway.

Lucy stood and leaned over me, wrapping me in a
hug. “We can talk about it later, okay?” she whispered in my
ear.

I nodded, fighting back tears at the familiar
comfort of my best friend. She returned to the couch.

“I’m moving into the duplex,” I told her.

“Really?” I could hear the relief in her voice.
“That’s perfect. I’ll visit you so much you won’t even get a chance
to miss me.”

“But I will anyway,” I told her.

“No more
Step Up
movies, no more cooking
for me all the time, no more—”

“Okay!” I laughed. “You’re right. I won’t miss
you at all.”

Her eyes fell on Evie coming towards me with a
drink. “Now you sound a little too happy.”

I rolled my eyes in reply, sinking back into the
comfortable couch.

Evie brought the first drink over with a grin
and held it in front of me. In their defence it did look pretty.
There was lots of ice, slices of lime, and sprigs of mint. I took
the glass and felt everyone’s eyes on me, waiting for me to take a
sip. I brought it cautiously to my lips and breathed in the smell
of limes like they were caustic fumes. My stomach lurched
feverishly, yet I drew in a mouthful.

It burned like fire. I swallowed rapidly and
choked out, “Effing hell. Oh my God.”

Evie nodded, her eyes sparkling. “Good,
right?”

“Strong,” I rasped, feeling my eyes water.

“Damn straight they’re strong, Quinn,” Mac
yelled as she churned out another batch. Seemingly satisfied, Evie
returned to Mac in the kitchen like some kind of evil alcoholic
mixer apprentice.

Soon we all had drinks and were piled in the
living room with pitchers. Evie was curled up on the floor because
Mac had spread herself out, leaving no room for anyone else.
Everyone studiously avoided the subject of David in favour of band
talk. I knew they were doing it deliberately—the drinks, the
gathering, the conversation—and rather than feel manipulated, I
felt grateful for the effort.