Crazy For You (30 page)

“Christ!” Nick lunged across the seat as Quinn grabbed for him.
“Let go of her!”

He caught the hand she flung at him and hauled her into the cab, dragging Bill behind her into the doorway. Her shoulders ached as they pulled her between them, and she clutched Nick with all the strength she had left, digging her fingers into his hand, leaning toward him, trying to become part of him again so Bill couldn’t drag her back.

“Don’t let me go,” she said to Nick between gasps, and he said, “Don’t worry.”

His face looked dark as he leaned across her, pinning her to the seat with his shoulder, keeping her safe with his weight. He glared down at Bill.
“Bill, let go of her now.”
He started to shove past her to get out of the truck and Quinn held on to him.

“No,”
she said.
“No,
you don’t leave me,
no.”

“We need to talk,” Bill said, still holding on. “Just talk. This is between us, Nick. Nothing to do with you.” His voice was thick with tension and rage, and Quinn wanted to throw up; she’d never heard Bill like that before. Breaking into her house could have been just malicious, but this, this was madness. Then he said, “Give her back to me,” and Quinn panicked.

“Don’t let me go,” she said to Nick, not knowing what he could do, holding on to him for dear life. “Don’t leave me, don’t let me go.”

Nick took a deep breath, and then set the emergency brake with his free hand. He eased himself around her, pushing her with his hip so that she slid over toward the driver’s door, almost lying on the seat because Bill was still holding on to her wrist, trying to pull her out. Nick leaned against her arm, blocking her from Bill’s sight—he felt so good and solid, like an anchor, like her last hope—and began to pry Bill’s fingers from her arm. He said with calm ferocity,
“You’re hurting her, Bill,”
and that was when Bill finally let go.

Quinn felt so relieved she almost wept, crossing her arms in front of her, hugging herself to ease the aches in her shoulders and wrists, feeling naked and exposed in just her bra. Her shirt was back someplace on the pavement along with everything she’d ever known about herself and the world. Things like this didn’t happen to her. People didn’t hurt her. She didn’t get this scared. She was the one in control, she could fix anything, she—

“Don’t get between us, Nick.” Bill stood close, making his body a block so Nick couldn’t close the door. “I know you’re a good friend, but this is serious. Don’t make me come in there after her.”

His voice was so calm that Quinn thought,
He really is insane. He’s gone completely round the bend.
He could do anything and think it was right. Even hurt her. Even drag her off just because he thought she belonged to him.

“Here’s the situation, Bill,” Nick said in the same calm voice Bill was using. She could feel him shaking, hear the strain behind his voice as he fought his temper to stay in control. “You can undoubtedly kick my ass in about thirty seconds, but you can’t do it and grab Quinn, too, and that means she’ll have thirty seconds to lock herself inside this truck and dial nine-one-one on the cell phone while we’re beating the crap out of each other. Then you can explain to Frank Atchity why she’s so upset and I’m bleeding, and he’s already got some pretty good suspicions about you. Or you can let me take her home, and we can decide what the fuck is going on tomorrow. Your call.”

Bill looked like a maddened bull, but then he looked past Nick’s shoulder into Quinn’s eyes. She drew a shuddering breath, and his face changed. “Don’t cry,” he said to her. “I just need to talk.”

“Later,” she said to appease him. “Much later.”
I hate you. I never want to see you again. Ever. I hope you die.

“I’m going to take her home now,” Nick said. “Step back so we can close the door.”

Bill stood there for a minute, the longest minute of Quinn’s life, and then he stepped back, and Nick pulled the door shut and locked it. “Jesus, that was bad,” he said, and turned to put his arms around her.

She leaned into his arms, pressing against him, trying to feel warm and safe, and when she said, “I’m okay,” he said, “No, you’re not. Somebody you used to care about just hurt you.”

His arms tightened around her and she clutched his shirt and sobbed once—she hadn’t meant to at all, it just came out—and he held her close until she felt her breathing slow again. “Take me home,” she said into his shirt. “Get me out of here.”

Nick kissed her forehead. He let go of her to take off his flannel shirt and drape it around her, and then he climbed over her to get back to the driver’s seat. Quinn took one last long shuddering breath and turned to get her seat belt. Through the window she saw Bill across the lot, standing there, her shirt in his hand, watching them. “Get me
out of here,”
she said, and Nick looked past her and said, “Jesus,” and floored it getting her away from him.

“What happened to you?” Darla said when she saw Quinn’s face. “Nick, what did you—”

“It wasn’t Nick,” Quinn said. “It was Bill. He grabbed me. He’s out of control, completely out of control.”

“The police,” Darla said, and Nick said, “Damn straight.”

Quinn collapsed into a chair. “I hate this. I hate this. Why couldn’t he just give up and let me go?” She put her head down on the table, and Darla went to stand beside her and stroke her hair.

Nick felt like hell.

“It’s not your fault,” Darla told her. “He’s crazy.”

“We’re calling the police
now,”
Nick said, needing to do something, and Quinn raised her head and said, “Not now.”

Nick said,
“Quinn!”
and Darla said, “Just give her a minute. She’s not going to talk to anybody like this.”

“Oh, yeah?” Max stood up, as tense as Nick. “Suppose that loon comes here after her. Nick calls the police.”

“He’s not going to come here,” Quinn said tiredly, and Nick wanted to hold her, to tell her it would be all right, that he’d be there, that—“My dad’s here. Darla’s here—”

“Not anymore, she’s not,” Max said. “This is it.” He turned to Darla and said, “I know you want to wait until Saturday, but it’s time for you to come home. You are not staying here with that asshole on the loose.”

Darla shook her head, incredulous with him. “I can’t leave Quinn. Bill—”

“She can come home with us,” Max said at the same time Nick said, “I’ll stay with Quinn.”

“Or Nick can stay with her,” Max said, picking up the thread smoothly. “But you don’t stay here. It’s dangerous.”

“If it’s dangerous, then I’m definitely not leaving her.” Darla’s voice was stubborn but uncertain. “Nick won’t stay, you know how he is—”

“Hey,” Nick said, feeling outraged and guilty all at once. Of course he’d stay. Okay, so generally he wasn’t much for sleepovers, but this was different. He’d stay. At least until Bill was in jail with a good long sentence.

“—and I can’t leave her alone,” Darla finished.

“It’s okay—” Quinn began, and then Max said, “The hell with this, you’re
going,”
and picked Darla up over his shoulder.

Nick winced, and Darla said,
“Wait a minute,”
and squirmed to wriggle down.

“Probably not a good idea,” Nick told Max under his breath, but he opened the door anyway, and Max carried her out.

Darla said, “I said,
wait a minute,”
as they hit the porch, but Nick said, “Don’t hurry back,” and shut the door behind them. He leaned against the door and locked it, throwing the deadbolt.

Quinn stood, tense and strained. “That’s my best friend. I object.”

Nick came toward her. “No, you don’t. You’re as glad as I am they’re back together. Come on—”

“Back together may be premature,” Quinn said. “She didn’t seemed charmed by that. Just like I wasn’t charmed by Bill.”

Nick stopped, appalled at the comparison. “That’s different. This is her husband.”

“I’m not sure.” Quinn limped into the living room and sank onto the couch. “I’m not sure about anything anymore.” She rubbed her ankle. “Bill was never like this before, grabby, physical. He’s changed. Maybe Max has, too.”

“I sure as hell hope so.” Nick came to stand in front of her. “That’s why Darla left him. I thought change was what you guys wanted.”

“Not like that,” Quinn said. “I don’t understand Bill at all.”

She looked tired and confused and hurt, and Nick felt like hell again. “I do. I think he’s a jerk and we’re calling the police right now, but I understand him. He thinks you belong - to him.”

“Listen, I have told him—”

“You told me, too, and I didn’t go away.” He sat next to her on the couch, taking her hand, trying to make her understand so she wouldn’t look so lost. “For the past two weeks, I’ve waited, and I’ve watched you, and I knew you’d come back to me because you belong to me. Every guy thinks that about the woman he loves.”

Quinn jerked her head up at “loves,” and he ignored it to go on.

“It’s the reason I trapped you against that wall after you blew me off for those weeks. I took you back.” He felt a wave of heat even as he said it. He wanted her again, wanted to take her like that again, feel her give herself up like that again, and then Quinn closed her eyes, and he felt like hell. “Sorry.”

“I’m not.” She opened her eyes again and looked at him fully. “I was just overwhelmed by how sexy that was. Politically incorrect as hell, but really, really sexy.”

He wanted to bend her back right there on the couch, and he felt guilty for wanting to, she’d been manhandled enough for one night. But he still wanted to. “Look, I know it’s not right, but that’s the way it is. I watch you walk across the stage, and I look at your butt and I think,
That’s mine.
I watch you stretch up to take a paint can from Thea and your shirt gapes open and I think,
That’s mine.
I listen to your voice and your laugh and I watch your eyes and your mouth and I think,
That’s mine.
Even when you were saying no, you were mine. It doesn’t go away. You can’t talk me out of that. Every move you make belongs to me. I know it’s wrong, and I don’t care.”

“Oh,” Quinn said.

“And the problem is, Bill doesn’t even know it’s wrong. He just knows you’re his and you’re not with him.”

Quinn swallowed. “He’s never going to see the truth, is he?”

“Yes,” Nick said. “He’s going to see it, but it’s going to take more than talk. I don’t know what it’s going to take, but I know it’s going to be more than you saying, ‘Bill, it’s over.’ You could say it to me and I’d never believe it. You’re mine. Just like Darla belongs to Max.” He spared a thought for Max, who’d just kidnapped his wife. “I hope.”

“I can’t cope with this right now.” Quinn collapsed against the back of the couch. “I know that’s weak, I’ll handle this tomorrow, but no more tonight.”

“You need ice on that ankle before we call the cops?” Nick said, and she shook her head.

“No.” Quinn shook her head. “No police. I can’t face them tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll do it, I swear. But not tonight.”

Nick started to protest and then saw how exhausted she looked. He was staying with her, and Bill wasn’t going anyplace. “First thing in the morning, then, you promise.”

“Tomorrow,” she said, nodding.

“Okay.” He held out his hand. “Come on, gimpy. Let’s go to bed.”

“Oh, you really are staying?” Quinn took his hand, and he looked down to see her wrists scraped raw. From far away he heard her say, “Dad’s upstairs, you know. You don’t—”

“What happened to your wrists?”

Quinn looked at her hands. “Oh. Bill scraped them against the bricks.”

“That’s it,” Nick said. “He goes to jail forever. The son-of-a-bitch—”

“It’s not that bad—”

“Fuck him. He goes to jail.” Nick gritted his teeth, and then shut up when he saw how upset she was. “Tomorrow. Where’s your first-aid stuff?”

“Kitchen,” Quinn said. “I don’t think he realized—”

“Screw what he realized,” Nick said. “He goes to jail.”

She’d wanted excitement. Well, she’d gotten that. And now she’d gotten an orchid and been kidnapped by her own husband. That was interesting, even if they were going back to the same old life at home—

It was right about then that she noticed they weren’t on their way home.

“Max, where are we going?”

He turned instead of answering, and she realized they were out on the edge of town, and then he hung a sharp right and skidded into the first lane of the old drive-in.

“This has been padlocked for years,” she said.
“Max, look out!”

He kept driving toward the padlocked chain, and she flinched when they hit it, breaking it and a headlight at the same time.

Maybe he was mad.

He drove straight for the back of the lot, and she thought for a moment that they were going to go through the back fence the way they’d gone through the chain, but he swerved at the last minute, making the truck fishtail in a half circle, and brought them to a stop in the last row of the theater.

“Haven’t done that in twenty years,” he said, his voice deep with satisfaction.

“More like fifteen,” Darla said.

The lot stretched out for an acre, ghostly posts marking row after row of parking spaces, the speakers long gone, some broken spiral cords still bouncing in the wind. The screen ahead was smaller than she remembered it, but the old concession stand was about right, a cinder-block rectangle with the best barbecue and the worst restrooms in Tibbett. They’d come here a lot, both of them just babies, seventeen, amazed by life and by each other and especially by sex.

Maybe that’s why Max had brought her out here, sex in the front seat again. Well, it was a nice idea, she thought tiredly, but they could just go home to bed. That’s where she’d be for the rest of her life anyway, home. Why put it off?

Max cut the engine and turned to her, leaning back against the seat. “We had some good times here.” He smiled at her, acting a little nervous, which was the way he’d been back then, come to think of it. “Remember?”

“Yes,” Darla said. “Pretty exciting.”

“Yeah.” Max nodded, clearly at a loss for what to say next, and she felt awful for him. He’d gotten her an orchid, for heaven’s sake. That was enough.

“It’s okay, Max,” Darla said. “I know we can’t get that back. And it’s pretty sweet of you to bring me out here to remember.”

“No problem.” He shrugged.

His voice was offhand, but the way he sat wasn’t, his hand tense on the steering wheel, so clearly unsure that her heart melted. He was so much dearer now than when he’d made her shiver here all those years ago. You got some good tradeoffs when the excitement went, she realized. He might have been more exciting in high school, but she’d never trade the man he was now for the boy he’d been then, sweet as that boy had been.

“So.” He turned to look at her and then evidently lost his courage. “What’s new?”

“Aside from Bill mugging Quinn?” she said. “Not much. And you?”

He shrugged again. “Oh, I’ve made some changes.”

“Right.” Darla sighed, feeling sorry for both of them. “It’s okay, Max. I give up. I’ll come home.”

“You don’t have to give up,” he protested. “I’ve taken some risks. Hell, I took Barbara to dinner. That was a change.”

“Yeah, I loved that one,” Darla said flatly.

“And the play.” Max sounded as if he was digging for stuff. Probably was, poor schmuck. “I really am into that play. That’s a big change.” He nodded in the dark. “And I’m cooking dinner, did I tell you that?” He nodded some more. “Buying stuff and cooking it. I’m not bad, too.”

“‘I’m not surprised.” Darla felt her throat catch. He was trying so hard. “You’ve always been good at everything. It’s okay, I’m coming home, you don’t have to—”

“And I”—he looked around a little wildly—“and I bought this drive-in.” Darla jerked back. “You what?”

Max nodded, now a lot surer. “I bought this drive-in.” He looked at her and nodded again. “Bought it this afternoon. The station’s doing good, no point in risking that, but I thought, ‘Well, a new generation ought to have what we had,’ so I bought it. Took a chance, what the hell.”

Darla’s mouth fell open. He’d bought a drive-in. In a million years, she’d never have seen this one coming. Just like she hadn’t seen the orchid coming, but this—

This was huge. Sweeping. “Max,” she said, her voice breathless.

He swallowed. “ ‘Course I’m going to need help with it. Can’t start a business by myself.” He turned to her, looking as vulnerable as a seventeen-year-old. “I thought we could do it together. Like the old days when you ran the register at the station.” He tried to look offhand, but she could see the tension in his eyes. “You in?”

“Of course I’m in,” she said, surprised to find tears choking her voice. “I can’t believe—”

He leaned over and kissed her then, solid and so Max, and he felt so good she grabbed onto him, kissing him back, holding on to him for dear life.

“Don’t leave me again,” he said into her hair. “Don’t ever leave me again.”

“I can’t,” she said. “I can’t leave you alone, you’re too unpredictable. God knows what you’d buy next.” She kissed him again, hard, so glad she could, so glad she was with him again. “Oh, I missed you. I’m so happy. I can’t believe it, I’m so happy.”

He laughed, and she could hear the relief there, and with the relief all the tension left him, and he was Max again. “Have I ever told you how sexy you look in a T-shirt?” he said, and she shivered as she felt his hands move down her back.

“No.” She shook her head, swallowing tears. This was no time to cry. “You never did.”

“You’re even sexier out of it,” he said and slid his hands under her shirt.

She moved closer to him and breathed him in, closing her eyes as she felt his hands move against her skin. “I missed you so much.”

“Thank God,” he said and stripped the T-shirt up over her head.

“Max, we’re in public.” She shivered in the cool air, crossing her arms over her bra.

“No, we own this place, it’s not public.” He was looking at her in the twilight, his eyes roaming hot on her, really looking at her, and she stopped covering herself. “I know you’re hard to get,” he went on and flipped open her bra catch, one-handed, just like the old days. “I know you don’t put out.” He pulled her bra off her shoulders and slid his hand to her breast and she closed her eyes. “So we can just pet until you say stop.” He bent his head and kissed her breast. “I swear I’ll stop when you say stop.” He leaned over her, so close he was almost on top of her, his hand sliding her zipper down, his body hot against hers.

“Don’t stop,” she said, as he bent to her again. “Do it all.” She started on his buttons by feel since his head was in her way. “Just don’t tell the kids at school. I want them to think I’m still a good girl.”

“Best I know,” Max said breathlessly, and she pulled his shirt open and climbed into his lap.