Chapter Twenty-Five

Quinn’s body went cold. “A work incident? What do you mean?”

“Scorp went to Queens to question a witness,” Safia said. “It was a routine follow-up on a case, nothing which would require backup. When he got there, a guy jumped him. Information received indicates the perp was high. Not sure what he had ingested. My guess is meth. Ironically, the guy wasn’t connected to an official case.”

“How’s Eliot?”

“Why don’t you sit?”

“Tell me.” she snapped.

“He was roughed up, but nothing major.”

She despised the female detective’s calm voice. Eliot had been assaulted, not bumped by a toddler with a grocery store cart. “Where is he? I need to see him.”

“He’s in the hospital.”

“Hospital? You said what happened wasn’t anything major.”

Safia patted her shoulder. “It’s not. He needs to remain overnight because of the concussion.”

“Concussion? I have to see him.”

“He doesn’t want you or Raine visiting him, but you should go to him, and so should Raine.”

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” She panted. “He might not make it?”

“I’m sorry, Quinn—”

“Oh no,” she screamed.

Safia shook Quinn’s shoulders. “Calm down. He’s not dying, nor is he in ICU. He’s bruised and has a few broken ribs, but he’s healthy enough to grouch at Omeir and me. Essentially, he doesn’t want you or Raine visiting because he doesn’t want you guys worrying, but he’s miserable. He’s been like that for a while now. Seeing you and Raine might make him a little less ornery, or at least I hope so.”

“He’s okay?”

Safia let out an exasperated breath. “Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t convey it better. My lieutenant tells me I should work on my people skills. He might have a point.”

“Are Eliot’s bruises bad?”

“I haven’t spoken to the doctor, but I assume he’s not permanently disfigured if that concerns you.”

“Geez, Safia, I’m not concerned about how he looks, but maybe we should hold off taking Raine. Seeing Eliot in the hospital might be too much for her.”

“I’m not an expert on children, but I think it’s important she sees that her brother is okay. You might not know this, but my father is with the force. My parents tried to shield me when he got hurt the first time. I was around Raine’s age. They meant well, but not visiting him made me imagine the worst. Raine’s a smart kid. She’ll know something’s wrong when her brother doesn’t come home after work. Sure, you can lie, but kids are perceptive. Look at how unglued you were. I doubt you could fool her for long.”

Quinn sniffled. “He’s really all right?”

“You’ll see how healthy he is when he yells at me for ignoring his wishes.”

****

Quinn sat in the backseat of Safia’s vehicle, preparing Raine for what she would experience.

“You know how Eliot keeps bad guys from harming people?”

“Um-hum.”

“Well, a bad guy punched Eliot today, but your brother is strong, and his owies will heal.”

Raine crossed her arms and pouted. “I don’t like bad guys.”

Quinn pushed back the soft curls from Raine’s face. Her eyes were the same beautiful color as Eliot’s. “We’re going to visit your brother in the hospital. He has cuts and bruises, so he’ll look different. You understand?”

“Josh in my class got owies. He fell and cut his knee. The blood was gross.”

“It’s kind of what happened to Eliot, but it’s his face, not his knee. Seeing him might scare you, and if it does, please tell me. It’ll take time for the marks on his face to fade, but he’s okay.”

“If he looks gross, can I tell him?”

Quinn nodded. Having dealt with terrorists, Eliot could handle his sister’s candid comment.

“Eliot says we should always tell the truth.”

Quinn flushed, embarrassed she hid her secrets. At first, staying quiet was the right thing to do. Eliot’s issues with Carly took priority. Then later, Quinn lost her nerve, fearing the fallout from speaking the truth.

Entering the hospital, she spotted Omeir in the corridor. Her heartbeat quickened, returning to a normal rhythm when Omeir smiled.

“The nurses booted me out of Eliot’s room to change his bandages,” he said. “They’ll let us know when they’re done. I’m headed to the cafeteria. You want anything?”

“Can I have ice cream?” Raine asked.

“Absolutely, kiddo,” Omeir replied. “Want to come with me to get it?”

Raine glanced at Quinn.

“Go ahead, sweetie, but get a small cone. We’ll be eating dinner later.”

Raine took Omeir’s hand and hurried off.

Quinn leaned against the wall next to Safia. A moment of silence passed. Safia glanced at Quinn and then stared at the nurse’s station. She repeated this a couple more times, all without uttering a word. Unsure what was bothering Safia, Quinn checked her phone for messages.

“Ahem…” Safia said, clearing her throat. “I’ve already meddled in Scorp’s life today, so why not continue?”

Quinn lifted her gaze.

“I don’t get why you’re fighting with him.”

“I’m not.” Safia’s knowledge of her personal life irritated her. Eliot, who avoided discussing his feelings, had no problem babbling to his attractive work colleague.

“There’s considerable tension between you two. Yes, Scorp messed up getting drunk, but he hasn’t done so since…not since Raine came into his life. If you’re unwilling to give him a second chance, be honest and tell him it’s over.”

“I never said I was done with him.”

“That’s the impression you’re giving.”

Quinn stepped forward and glanced down the hallway. “You think the nurses are done changing Eliot’s bandages?”

“You lack patience,” Safia said.

And you, lady, lack tact.

“Getting back to our discussion. I’m not a warm huggy person, so I don’t have a lot of friends, but I protect the ones I do have.”

“So, I’m the problem, and Eliot is some innocent bystander?”

“I didn’t say that. Just hear me out. He wants what we all want—someone who loves us despite our imperfections. To Scorp, you were that person. I was happy for him. I truly was, but then you abandoned him when he desperately needed your support.”

“Excuse me? Eliot’s the one who—"

“Yes. I know. He got drunk. I’m not dismissing his behavior.”

“Sounds like you are.”

“I just don’t get how you think a man who suffered so much trauma won’t stumble along the way.”

“It’s not so simple.”

“You’re the one making it complicated.” Safia’s voice rumbled with harshness. She was intimidating. Gabby could be blunt, but Quinn had known Gabby forever and understood the vulnerability behind her tough exterior. She doubted this woman had any weaknesses.

“Safia, I need to ask you something, but I don’t want you mad at Omeir.”

“Why would I be mad at him?”

“Because it’s about the night you and Omeir collected Eliot from the bar.”

“What’s wrong with that man? He can’t zip his lips about anything.”

“That’s not what this is about. Besides, I forced the story from Omeir.” She hadn’t, but she’d hate for Safia to go ballistic on the guy.

Safia sighed. “Go ahead.”

“Was Eliot…was there…”

“What?” Safia barked.

Now, who’s the impatient one? “Were any women around him? I don’t mean, were any women inside the bar. I mean, was he flirting?”

“I know what you’re asking,” Safia snapped.

Quinn rubbed her temple. “I didn’t mean any offense.”

“I know what Scorp’s like. He’s charming. He’s wickedly smart in a way different from the college grads I work with. He’s… Let’s say he’s intriguing. But I’ve seen how he operates. The bad boy image is so cliché. Ever since I met him, I wondered if he realized the ridiculousness of jumping from one woman to another. Obviously not, as he continued to be a player.”

Safia’s words boiled like water, evaporating Quinn’s faith in Eliot.

“Omeir sees the good in others, but I’m a cynic,” Safia continued. “People always say they can change, but few do. When Omeir told me Scorp wasn’t the same guy he once was, I didn’t buy it.”

Quinn opened her mouth, but Safia continued speaking.

“I was surprised Scorp had a kid sister and shocked to learn he wanted to raise her. From what I can see, he’s doing a great job. Though he’s good for Raine, she’s also been good for him. But she’s not the only one who makes him happy. When I first met you, Eliot was having an awful day. I’ve witnessed a few of them. He does a good poker face, but this time he didn’t. He let his guard down. He doesn’t do vulnerable. But he did with you. He trusts you.”

“And I want to trust him.”

“Scorp’s like an annoying big brother in a close-knit family. I can be fond of him and still hold him to account.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t owe you any loyalty, but I hate seeing any woman being strung along. It’s different when they know the score.”

Quinn swallowed the slab of anxiety in her throat. “Go on,” she squeaked.

“When we arrived at the bar, Omeir rushed to the restroom. He’s incapable of handling more than one coffee. I’ve done stakeouts with him. It’s like being with a toddler. He either babbles incessantly or runs to the lavatory.”

Yadda, Yadda. Get to the point, lady.

“Omeir told me to wait. He was worried I’d make a scene. How ridiculous is that? Scorp was the drunk one, and Omeir was concerned I’d be loud and argumentative.”

“And you listened?”

“I used his suggestion to my advantage. Scorp hadn’t seen us walk in, so I observed him.”

Safia’s recounting of events, was the equivalent of at-home dentistry—slow and excruciatingly painful. “Scorp was drunk. I could tell by the way his head swayed. He seemed to be minding his own business until this woman intruded. She was young, pretty, and as easy as grade school math.”

Math had always been difficult for Quinn, but she gathered Safia had excelled.

“She brought him a shot of clear liquor. I assume it was tequila, but it could have been vodka or gin. He didn’t touch the drink. I suppose he had had enough. I wasn’t expecting Scorp to go home with the woman. She approached him. Only a stupid detective would allow a stranger to seduce them when drunk. Normally Scorp would flirt, perhaps get a phone number for later. But he didn’t. In fact, her salacious offer seemed to have ticked him off. He waved her away and stood when she persisted. He was too drunk and dropped to his seat. His display of disinterest worked. The lady left.”

Though relieved Eliot hadn’t been with another woman, Quinn’s stomach remained knotted.

“You don’t look happy,” Safia said.

“I’m worried he’ll cave to temptation one day?”

“Scorp’s not interested in other women. You’re the one he wants. It has been that way since he met you.”

“But what if—”

“If you’re looking for perfection, Scorp is not your man. He’s a work in progress. But I do know this, you can trust him. He’s not a cheat. Disappointing you or Raine is what he fears the most. He’s incredibly tough on himself. Can you imagine being raised to believe you’re not good enough? Stop looking for guarantees in life. No one, not even Allah, promises a stress-free life. So if a man comes your way and promises a life without any rough patches, walk away, for he’s either stupid or a liar.”

Quinn’s mouth curved into a smile. She couldn’t argue with logic. “One more question, and then I’ll swear I won’t ask anymore.”

“As long as it’s not about Omeir.”

Although she was curious about why Safia was adamant about keeping her coffee rendezvous a secret, it wasn’t what she planned to ask. “Did Eliot say anything that night…uh…um…about me?”

“No.”

Quinn frowned. Safia’s curt response had disappointed her.

“It was all slurred ramblings, gibberish, non-stop chatter from a normally quiet man. All we learned was Eliot has a sweet tooth. I might have been amused if I wasn’t so irritated with him.”

“He likes that awful black licorice.”

“No, this was more along the lines of cupcakes.”

“Cupcakes?”

“Or donuts. He kept going on about sprinkles and how he loves sprinkles. He repeated it so many times, Omeir was going to stop at a bakery. I told him no. We needed to get Scorp home, not feed him cake. Thankfully, he passed out and shut up about sweets.”

Quinn rushed forward and gave Safia an exuberant hug. The woman stiffened like laundry pinned to a clothesline during a cold snap.

“We’re back,” Omeir shouted, rounding a corner with Raine. The man had more drips of ice cream running down his mouth than the five-year-old.

A nurse darted across the hall.

“Excuse me,” Quinn said, hurrying toward the woman. “I’m waiting to see Eliot Traversini.”

“Are you a co-worker?” the nurse asked.

“No. I’m…”

“She’s family,” Safia interjected. Can she go see Traversini?”

“Yes,” The nurse replied.

“Come on, Raine, let’s go visit your brother.” Quinn glanced around. “Raine?”

“Where is she?” Safia snapped at Omeir.

He glanced up from his phone. “Isn’t she with you?”

Panic flooded Quinn. She had lost Raine.

****

Three frantic adults running into a hospital room was not a good sign. But when the group collectively sighed, Eliot realized they had no idea his sister had snuck into his room.

“Hey,” he said, elevated in the bed with Raine tucked under his side. The cotton blanket had slid, exposing his sleeveless hospital gown. His right eye was swollen shut, and his cheek and lip abrasions had scarred over. He was quite the sight. But instead of staring at his mangled face, his sister focused on his tattoos—the ink he had spent months hiding.

“You’re like a coloring book,” Raine said.

Eliot smirked with relief. “Don’t go getting any markers.”

While everyone chatted, Quinn remained quiet. After thirty minutes of uncomfortable silence from her, he looked up at Safia and Omeir. “There’s a cafe across the street. Can you guys take Raine and get me a decent coffee?”

“Sure,” Omeir replied. He glanced at Quinn. “You want to join us?”

Safia leaned toward Omeir and whispered, “He wants to be alone with her.”

Omeir’s face reddened. “Oh, sorry, buddy.” He held his hand to Raine, “Come on, kiddo, let’s see if they have any cookies.”

Safia let out a sigh and followed Omeir and Raine into the hallway. Quinn closed the door behind them.

“You didn’t have to come.” Eliot was unsure whether Quinn truly wanted to be here or this was simply an obligated visit.

She proceeded toward him. He scooted his body, providing inadequate space, and patted the mattress. She accepted his invitation and sat.

“You comfortable?” If she wasn’t, there was nothing he could do. If he moved any farther, a large thud would sound, and a team of nurses would rush in.

Quinn nuzzled against his chest. His ribcage throbbed, but the tension in his body faded. She began sobbing.

Shit, this isn’t good. Normally, when a woman began crying, she would curse, slam the door, and shout, “You asshole.”

He tightened his arm around her quivering body. “Sprinkles, what’s wrong?” Were her tears slow-building anger, a preamble to a final goodbye, or was she shaken about his hospitalization? Although he hated her fretting, he could at least manage her concern. What he couldn’t handle was her leaving. His kid sister would miss her immensely…and he would be devastated.

Before he fell off the wagon, he realized how much Quinn meant to him. Caring about her terrified him, but he became less freaked out over time. He wasn’t ready to say I love you—there are no taking back those words—but he was prepared to give her closet space.

He eased her off his chest, wiping her tears with the scratchy hospital blanket. “It’s okay. Speak what’s on your mind.”

“I was…” she stuttered. Her choked sobs prevented further words from departing her lips. She tried again, but the words were jumbled, combining I’s and you’s without a coherent thought.

“Take your time.”

“I’m okay,” she gasped.

“No, you’re not.” He rubbed her wrist with his thumb. He wasn’t sure what was wrong. He just knew he was to blame.

She took a few more deep breaths. “I was so scared when Safia told me you got hurt. I thought…” She began crying.

“I’m fine. Some bruising, but nothing serious.”

“You’re…You’re all banged up,” she sobbed.

“I’m not my usual pretty boy self, but I’ll live.” He stroked her cheek. “Honestly, I don’t need to be here. A simple bandage would have worked, but my colleagues called an ambulance.”

“I’m sorry…” she sputtered.

A lump formed in his throat. A girl crying coupled with an apology spelled disaster.

His gaze settled on the blanket’s thick stitching. He waited. Quinn remained silent. His heart pounded.

A laugh escaped her lips. Eliot feared she had snapped from all the stress. She continued laughing. Thankfully, the giggle was sweet and not unhinged.

“You really are okay?” she asked.

“Yup. Just waiting for the doctor to sign the discharge papers. I was hoping she would do it soon. This hospital gown is ridiculous. It’s no bigger than a thong. I feel like a coed on spring break.”

Quinn playfully tugged the cotton garment. “Let me see.”

“Not happening, Sprinkles. Hey, you know what can happen?”

“What?”

“You can come home with me. I missed you.”

Her mouth grazed against his lips. He winced.

She pulled back. “That hurts, doesn’t it?”

“Not as much as thinking you might never kiss me again.”

****

“The doctor instructed me to rest, not lie in bed like a pampered princess,” Eliot argued after Quinn ordered him to stay in bed.

A mountain of pillows, including two pink ruffled ones, kept his legs elevated. His lower limbs weren’t the problem. The problem was that he wasn’t using them. He was reprimanded any time he left his bed other than to take a whiz. Even his five-year-old sister took to scolding him.

He threw back the covers and eased himself up. Pain radiated from his ribcage. He winced. “I’m getting bedsores.”

Quinn glared. “Seriously?”

“No, but it could happen. When the doc said to relax, I doubt she meant doing nothing. Besides, I’m hungry.”

“Just ask, and I’ll make you something.”

“Yeah, woman, get me a sandwich.” He gave a mocking Neanderthal grunt and shuffled to the kitchen. “I need to move around.” He grabbed a carton of orange juice from the fridge.

Quinn took the carton out of his hand. “All right,” she said, pouring the beverage and handing him the glass. “I’ll arrange some cushions on the sofa.”

He drank the orange juice in one gulp. “So much for escaping the evil kingdom of frilly pillows,” he muttered, setting the cup in the sink.

She leaned forward and kissed his lips. He gritted his teeth and gave her a tight smile. He refused pain meds, instead choosing a natural anti-inflammatory. He tucked her hair behind her ear. “Sorry for being difficult. I appreciate everything you’re doing—everything you’ve done. I’ve just never had someone take care of me.”

“I know,” she said, softening her voice, “but get used to it. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“I wish you wouldn’t say that. We should talk once Raine goes to bed tonight.”

“Yeah, we will.”

****

He flicked the lights off in Raine’s bedroom, followed Quinn to the living room, and plopped down on the sofa. “How come she wants a quick bedtime story when I’m not busy, but when I need alone time with you, she brings me several books?”

Quinn snuggled against him. “Decoding child logic is impossible for us adults,”

“All kidding aside, I hope she always loves reading.”

“She’s amazing.”

“And so are you, Sprinkles.” He kissed her cheek. “I’ve said sorry a zillion times, and I hate that I keep saying it. Not because I don’t mean it, but because I mean it so much. I betrayed your trust.”

“It hurt that you didn’t confide in me, and seeing you drunk made me angry.” She scratched her nails. “I was scared, Eliot.”

“I regret letting you down. I’m lucky the social worker didn’t do an unannounced visit and see me passed out on the sofa. I don’t know what Alisha would have done, but Raine might have been apprehended.”

“But she wasn’t.”

“I get why you’re angry and disappointed, but I don’t understand why you’re scared. I’ve never been a violent drunk, and I swear I’d never—”

“I know.” She dropped her head. “I thought you might go off with another woman and forget about me.”

“I’m an idiot, but my womanizing days are long gone.” He let out a labored breath. “I’m aware of my reputation. I can’t expect you to believe me, but give me a chance, and I’ll show you how much I’ve changed.” He dipped his face, coaxing her to meet his gaze. When she did, he continued. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way, but don’t ever think you’re forgettable.”

“I’ve always been a wallflower. I’m not the girl who ends up with the cute guy.”

“I’d be devastated if you wound up with the cute guy. You should be with me.” He dropped the smirk. “You are so many things. Funny. Smart. Sexy. But you are not forgettable. I’ve been in utter agony the last few days. Being patient and giving you time has been hard. I physically ache from not seeing you. Trust me, Sprinkles, you are not forgettable. Drinking was stupid. I should have talked to you. Carly’s death brought up a lot of old feelings.”

“Like what?”

He took a breath of courage. “I accepted not having a relationship with my mother. Even if a miracle occurred and she got clean, I wouldn’t have forgiven her. She damaged my childhood. She damaged me. The drugs messed her up, but it wasn’t just the opioids. She despised me.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because she repeatedly told me. Not once in twenty-nine damn years did Carly feel anything but utter hatred for me.” Though he agreed to talk, he wasn’t ready to disclose the reason behind his mother’s raging contempt. “Even the most flawed human beings have mothers who love them. It stings knowing I was loved less than a serial killer. Regardless, I acted like a jerk. I fueled my pity party with booze. As soon as I felt a buzz, I regretted it.”

“So why didn’t you call? I would have dropped everything and got you.”

“I was ashamed to be so damn weak. It’s a shitty excuse, but it’s the truth.”

“But you reached out to Omeir and Safia.”

“I called Omeir, not Safia. The guy’s seen me drunk before. I’m sure he thinks I’m an idiot, but he hasn’t stopped being my friend.”

“And you think I would.”

“If I keep messing up, you should.”

“You’d have to do something pretty bad for me to walk away. And as far as Carly hating you, it isn’t because you’re not worthy of love. A lot of people love you. Paula and Malcolm. Your work friends. And Raine is over the moon about you. And I—”

“Don’t. Not like this. I’m an addict. I know what it’s like to live with someone who uses. No one should go through that.”

“Are you saying—”

“I need to get my act together. I started counseling and AA meetings. I’m trying. I really am, but recovery is a process. Give me a chance to get there. I want things to be right with us.”

“They are right.”

He shook his head. “They’re better. But I need to earn your trust back. I’m asking you to give me time, not because I’m unsure, but because I want you so damn much.”

She slid closer.

His body ached from his injuries but also from desire. There were times when Quinn knew what she was doing, like when she teased him with a chest-heaving stretch. And then there were times, like now, when she had no idea how her sensual curves affected him.

“Dammit,” he grumbled. Getting ambushed sucked.

“What are you cursing about?”

“I hate being sidelined. It’s impossible to have makeup sex without causing an emergency room visit.”

She giggled. “We could cuddle and talk about feelings or sit through a chick flick marathon.” Her sweet, sassy tone made him even harder.

He let out an agonized groan. “How about I silently hold you while I work on being a good man?”

“You’re a wonderful guy.”

“I can do better.”