Behind Your Back (26 page)

“Did all your tattoos hurt?” she asks. “That’s a stupid question, of course they did. You seem young to have so many. Did you get them done all at once, or gradually?” She seems obsessed with tattoos and there’s really no way I can avoid her questions. So I’m going to give her a little bit of truth and hope she’s happy with it.

“Yes, they all hurt, but to different extents. I started getting them when I was seventeen, so I’ve had a few years of accumulating them.” That’s all she’s getting.

“Do you want some water or something?” I ask. I’d been so eager to hang out with her, but now I just want to leave.

“That would be great,” she says and I go to her kitchen to get it for her.

When I come back she’s got the remote in her hand and is flipping through the channels. I put the glass of water on the coffee table and wonder what I should do. She’s draped across the whole couch, so I’ll have to move her if I want to sit.

“Sorry I’m being a couch hog. You can move me, if you want.”

“No, it’s fine. I, ah, I think I’m going to go catch a cab and bring your car back.” She props herself up and I know I can’t escape the scrutiny of those green eyes.

“I’m sorry I asked so many questions. I know you don’t like it and I didn’t respect that. I should have told you that’s where we were going. I just… I wasn’t thinking. I was excited about the tattoo and I wanted you to be there. I should have asked you.” She reaches out for me again.

I sigh. I can’t fuck this up. I smile at her.

“It’s okay. I’m just stuck in my head. Don’t even worry about it. I’ll be back in a few.” I grab her keys from where she left them on the table by the door and head out to the street. My chest is tight and I don’t know where my head is at. I haven’t felt like this for a long time and I don’t like it.

I call a cab with my phone and see Baz down the street, watching me.

I’d get him to give me a ride if I didn’t think that someone was watching every single move I’m making. They probably followed me to the tattoo shop and took pictures while I was there. Doesn’t matter. I’m not going to hide and I’m not going to be threatened by anyone.

For a moment, I think about Saige, alone in her apartment, but whoever is following me is going after me, not her.

I get to the tattoo shop and Crash is outside smoking. He gives me a wave as I hop in Saige’s little red sports car. I don’t want to, but I give him a nod back and drive away as quick as I can.

Twenty-Four

I
take the next day off work and go to see Lizzy. It’s a very, very stupid idea, but I do it anyway. Cash is following me today and it takes a while to shake him off. Of course, I end up getting a pissy text and send one back that I just need a few hours. He’s easier to convince than Row and he tells me that as long as I get my ass back by five, he’ll cover for me. Of course, he adds that if I get killed, it’s my own damn fault.

Lizzy in the activity room when I get there, making a picture collage. Her hands are carefully cutting pictures out of magazines.

“It’s nice to see you, Quinn,” Margo, one of the nurses, says to me when I check in. “You’re good to come and see her as much as you do. I know it can’t be easy to get away from your job.”

I smile at her and make my way over to Lizzy. I tap her on the shoulder and she jumps up to hug me. I sit down with her and she shows me what she’s been working on.

She’s cutting out flowers from a Better Homes and Gardens magazine. It reminds me of being with Saige yesterday and her tattoo.

“That’s very pretty. What are you going to do with it?” She shrugs.

“Don’t know.”

She goes back to work and hums to herself.

“Have you been reading without me?” I ask and she looks up at me, her baby blue eyes wide.

“No way,” she says, shaking her head, but biting back a smile.

“Have you been reading without me?” I say, narrowing my eyes and she giggles and tries to get away from me, but I grab her and tickle her ribs until she laughs so hard she can’t breathe.

The room we’re in is bright and all the residents seem happy and busy. I made sure when I put her here that it was a good facility. There are a lot of bad ones out there and there’s no way I could leave her in a place that I didn’t trust.

When she’s cutting I see a bracelet on her wrist. I don’t recognize it and ask her where she got it.

She presses her lips together and shakes her head back and forth.

“It’s a secret.”

“Oh, is it?” I just assume one of the nurses gave it to her. They do things like that. “Can I see it?” She holds her wrist in front of my face and I see the simple silver band with a charm on it. A scrolling silver E, for Elizabeth.

“Very nice,” I say and she cradles her wrist to her chest.

“It’s very special. I’m taking good care of it,” she says, her voice very serious.

“I see that you are. That’s a very nice present.” She nods and goes back to cutting. I stay the whole day, having lunch with her and playing tag outside in the yard with a few of her friends. After that, we go back to her room and I read some more Harry Potter. It is a really good book. It’s funny and engaging and Lizzy is loving it. I stay as long as I dare and then say goodbye to her. I text Cash as soon as I’m on the road what my arrival time is.

He messages back that I owe him. Oh, I know. I’m owing a lot of people a lot of things. Doesn’t matter, though. I’ll sacrifice for Lizzy.

I
message Saige asking her how the tattoo is doing and she sends back a picture of it. Her back is red and angry, but that’s normal. She sends me another picture of her wincing.

OUCH.

I laugh and answer her that pain is a necessary evil.

She texts me back asking if I want to come over and make it all better. I don’t think sex is really the ideal solution and for some reason, I want to say no. This is the first time I’ve ever been conflicted about fucking Saige. Ever. I’m not sure why I’m conflicted now.

She’s twisting and turning my head around and getting inside my skin and bleeding through my veins and I just… I need a break.

Wish I could. Ton of work I need to catch up on.

I consider sending a frowning face, but that seems much too juvenile.

Too bad. I could really use someone to help me rub lotion on my back.

I smile and feel a pang of guilt at saying no to her, but I just can’t.

Now that is a line, Saige. You’re always accusing me of using them.

Her answer is a winky face.

I set my phone down and lean back on the couch. Leo has been watching me, his tail switching back and forth.

“Stop staring at me,” I say, but he just blinks his yellow eyes at me.

The burner phone goes off and I get another picture of me from today, walking into my apartment. Is this going to be a thing now? Daily picture messages letting me know that he’s watching me?

I want to smash the phone against the wall, but I don’t because there’s a knock at my door. Puzzled, I get up and reach for the gun I keep out when I’m home alone.

Softly as I can, I walk to the door and look out the peephole. Nothing. I wait and keep looking, but the hallway is empty. Slowly, I open the door and make sure to keep the gun out of sight. There’s a package in front of my door. It’s a simple brown box, closed with clear tape. Shit.

It could be anything. Explosives, a warning, anything. I lean down and put my ear to the box, listening for a beep or a tick or something. Nothing. I wait for a few minutes and then a door down the hall opens and I’m caught. I have no choice but to pick it up and bring it into my place. Holding it as gently as I can, I walk with it into the kitchen and set it down on the kitchen table.

I know I need to call the guys. Cash has tech that can x-ray the thing to find out what it is, but something tells me this is personal. I know I’m correct when I get another message.

Have you opened it yet?

It’s not explosives or anything designed to kill me. No, this stalker enjoys toying with me too much. I grab a knife and slice through the tape, still wary. I lift one flap of the box and then another. It was light when I picked it up and there’s only one item inside.

A picture in a simple silver frame.

A picture of my mother when she was young. Probably around eighteen or so. She married my father when she was twenty.

My hands shake as I take the frame out and stare at it.

How did the stalker get this? How is this possible?

What is going
on
?

I
spend the rest of the night staring at the picture and trying to decide my next move. Clearly, this stalker knows me. Knows my mother. Knows my history. This goes far beyond a simple grudge for taking away money. This is something much deeper and darker and I don’t know if I can handle it.

I should tell Cash. I should tell someone. But I can’t bring myself to. That would open up old wounds and thrust my past into the present and I can’t do that. I won’t.

So I take the picture and put it back in the box and place it in my safe. I don’t care how I’ve gotten this picture, I’m going to keep it because I have so few of my mother.

I don’t sleep. I just sit and guzzle beer after beer and stare at the wall. I should have gone to see Saige. If I did, I wouldn’t be alone right now. I could bury myself in her and forget.

It’s two in the morning and I can’t take it anymore. I send her a message and cross my fingers. I get a response back in a few minutes.

Come on over.

W
e don’t fuck. I don’t know what to call it, but it’s probably the closest to making love I’ve ever been. Saige takes care of me with lips and hands and body. She goes slow and savors every part of me. It’s a joining of two bodies, but it’s so much more than that.

By the time Saige mounts me and slides my cock inside, I’m not thinking about anything but her. She burns everything else away. She puts her hands on my chest and rises slowly up and then down on me. I groan out and she moans, her hair falling forward, scraping my chest. She’s everywhere around me. She’s everything.

By the time we both climax, I feel an overwhelming sense of peace. My mind isn’t racing. I’m not thinking about everything that’s going to go wrong. I’m not thinking about the ticking timeline. My only thoughts are about her.

She leans down and kisses me, our bodies still joined.

“Feel better?” Her voice is soft and her smile is sleepy and satiated. I don’t feel guilty for waking her up. I don’t feel anything but relief that I’m here with her. I prop myself up so she’s sitting in my lap and I seize her, putting my arms around her. I want to absorb her into my skin.

“Yes,” I say into her neck. I feel myself getting hard again and I start slowly thrusting again. She holds onto me and I rock into her. She adds her own movements and soon we’re both orgasming again.

Her eyes flutter closed and she tips her head back.

“I’m going to be tired tomorrow, but this has been so worth it,” she says, her eyes opening and a smile flitting across her lips.

“I’m sorry I called so late,” I say, my voice rough. She shakes her head and puts a finger to my lips.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain. It’s okay, Quinn. I’d rather have you call me in the middle of the night than suffer alone.” I think about telling her I’m not suffering, but I can’t lie. Everything is crashing down on me at once and I feel like I can’t breathe. But with Saige, I can inhale and all I smell is her skin, her hair, her everything.

“It’s okay,” she says again, leaning down to meet my lips with hers.

She pulls back and smiles.

“Stay with me. Sleep here and hold me.” I nod and she gets off me and goes to the bathroom to clean up. I lay back on her pillows and exhale a long breath.

She comes back and lays on her stomach, inching over to lay herself across my chest. I stroke her spine, being careful not to touch the tattoo.

“This is the least I can do for you since you came with me today,” she says through a yawn.

I can’t seem to find the words to say.

“I’m sorry.”

I don’t know what I’m sorry for.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Quinn. I’m worried about you. You seem sad and… lost.” She’s too perceptive for her own good. Part of me wishes I could go back in time and never take this job. What would have happened if I’d just gone into that coffee shop and met her? Just met her. Just been Sylas from the beginning.

There’s no such thing as a time machine. No way to go back. I can’t leap into Lizzy’s Harry Potter books and use a spell to do it. This is real and the dice have been cast. I rolled my hand and now I have to deal with the numbers that I’ve been given.