Give Me Strength (22 page)

He shoved me away and my forehead smacked hard
into the brick wall. I bit down on my lip to stop the moan of pain.
My hand came away from my forehead bloody, and I turned to face my
attacker. My eyes strained down the dark alley alongside the
building, but I couldn’t see anything, just inky blackness and
silence.

I pushed weakly from the wall and peered up into
the light blazing from the loft. For a brief moment I remembered
the feel of Travis wrapped around me, the sound of his low
breathing and curve of his lips when he smiled because soon, too
soon, I would have nothing.

***

“Let’s go,” I murmured,
sliding into the passenger seat of Lucy’s car. I was careful to
avert my face. Lucy was like a bloodhound when it came to sniffing
out trouble.

“Uh uh.” She tapped the steering wheel
impatiently. “I want answers.”

I faced her full on, all sense of calm
rationality disappearing in favour of panic. “Just plant your
fucking foot.”

She blanched and as though my bloodied forehead
was like a green flag, her foot hit the pedal, and we screamed out
of the street.

“Quinn, this isn’t fair. You attract violence
like flies on shit. What happened? Did Travis hurt you? I swear to
God, I’m turning this car around right the fuck now.”

“
See you get the money and keep your mouth
shut about it or your friend here, or even your fuck buddy
upstairs, are gonna bleed.”

My jaw ached with the effort of pulling myself
together. “Nothing happened. I tripped on the stairs, okay?”

Lucy glanced at me. “And face planted?”

“Yes,” I replied, both annoyed and relieved when
a laugh bubbled out of her.

Lucy screeched the car to a stop at a red light,
and I jerked forward, pulled up short from the seatbelt and slammed
back in my seat. “Okay then. What about Travis?”

My stomach rolled at hearing his name.

“Quinn, tell me about Travis or when we get back
I’ll sit on you until you do.”

I had absolutely no doubt that Lucy would
attempt it. I struggled to find where to start. “He held my hand in
the movies.”

At the green light, she accelerated wildly,
taking her eyes off the road to offer me a look of mock horror. “He
didn’t! The bastard. I’ll kill him.”

“Lucy,” I said weakly. “He knows.”

“Knows what?”

I waved my hand, opening the glove box for a
tissue. Pulling down the visor, I eyed the mess on my forehead and
wondered how I’d manage to hide it. “Everything.”

Lucy’s mouth fell open.

“Close your mouth before you catch flies.”

“Oh, Quinn,” she said, weariness deep in her
voice. “And then you ran.”

I nodded as I wiped the blood away, wincing when
it stung. “And then I ran.” Slumping back in my seat, I did my best
to wipe at the scrapes on my hands. “Actually, I’m thinking that
maybe it’s time I moved. Made a change or something.”

“A change?”

“Yeah, you know, maybe a move to the country or
something.” My eyes focused out the window and my reflection
taunted me.

“The country? You want to move to what—west
bumblefuck? David won’t find you where you are. You’re not
leaving.” Her voice was firm but I could hear the panic in her
voice.

“It’s just an option,” I hedged.

“Option, schmoption. Who do you think you
are—Daniel Boone?”

“Who’s Daniel Boone?”

Lucy glanced over her shoulder before cutting
across three lanes in quick succession. “Never mind who he is,
just…don’t do anything or go anywhere without talking to me first.
Promise me.”

My eyes fell on the best friend I’d ever had—the
one person who had seen me at my worst, walked me through it, and
came out the other side holding my hand—and I lied. “Promise.”

“Quinn, what are you doing?”

Flustered, I minimised my internet search engine
window of country maps and called up the diary. “Working.”

I smiled up at Mac from my desk to put her off
the scent and heard her indrawn breath. “What happened to your
face?”

At the reminder, the pain on my forehead
throbbed dully. My hand came up to cover it, and I forced a
sheepish chuckle. “Oh. That? I uh, scraped it on the um,
driveway.”

Her lips pressed flat, suppressing a smile. “Did
it leap out at you and smack you in the face?” She went a little
pale. “Oh shit. I didn’t mean—”

I cut her off. “Pretty much.”

“Right. Coffee. Then you can tell me about your
date last night.”

She left and I rubbed at my eyes. I hadn’t
slept—at all. My mind had raced over every possible scenario but
the problem was, there were no scenarios. The simple fact was that
if I left, Lucy and Travis, or anyone else for that matter,
wouldn’t get hurt. I’d move somewhere cold. They wouldn’t expect
that. Fleeing people in the movies always made the mistake of
disappearing to some warm tropical island. Newsflash—that was
always the first place the bad guys looked.

“Quinn?”

“Huh?”

I blinked back into focus and found Travis in
the doorway. My heart lifted at the sight of him. “Travis?”

“You’ve been staring at the wall for over a
minute.” He frowned. “What happened to your face?”

“I fell,” I told the desk after averting my
eyes.

Travis came and stood in my space. He crouched
down and cupped my face, examining the injury. “When?”

“Is that important?” I could feel his breath on
my face, and I wanted him so much. Sheer agony speared through me,
and I closed my eyes against the force. His touch on my forehead
was gentle, and I jerked my head back. “It’s just a graze. What are
you doing here?”

Travis sighed, and it was weighted with so many
unsaid words that I knew he didn’t know where to start. “You know
why I’m here.”

Of course I knew.

“Don’t stand so close,” I said firmly but he
must have heard something else coming out of my mouth because he
didn’t move.

“Quinn,” he breathed, and the depth of emotion
in that single word tugged at my heart. “I can’t let you do
this.”

Travis held my eyes, but I couldn’t reply
because suddenly his lips were on mine. My mouth opened underneath
the onslaught, moaning at the taste of him. He lifted me off the
chair, and I hung on as he spun me around and pushed me up against
the desk.

“Stop,” I choked out when his mouth left mine to
nibble on my ear.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” I moaned as his teeth bit into my skin.
“No.”

God help me, but I couldn’t push him away. I
wasn’t strong enough and he was relentless. His hands were all over
me, pushing under clothes and grabbing at bare skin. I slid my own
underneath his shirt, tugging on the waistband of his jeans to drag
him closer. His mouth returned to mine and my hand came around his
neck, holding him there so he wouldn’t take it away.

“Oh that shit is not cool. So not cool.” Mac’s
voice registered through the fog, and I pulled back, rubbing my
lips together.

Travis took a step back, his hair mussed, and
cleared his throat. “We were just ah…sorting the security detail
for the Melbourne trip.”

I sat up, straightening my shirt, my entire body
heating with embarrassment when I saw Jared smirking at both of us
from over Mac’s shoulder.

“That’s Jared’s department, yet here you are,
all over it like a rash. I’m not fooled. I can bet by the way you
had Quinn spread out all over that desk she isn’t fooled
either.”

Jared folded his arms and raised a brow. “Nice
one, Trav.”

Mac spun around with wide eyes and pointed in
his face. “One word, Jared. Bedroom. Not the pantry, not the couch,
not the shower. Bedroom.”

He held up his hands. “No idea what you’re
talking about,” he muttered and disappeared.

“Hurry up and finish your fumigating because I’m
tired of you and your shitty food in my house!” she yelled after
him.

“It’s Sunday,” she growled and slammed the
coffee in her hand on the desk as she sat down, “but you’re here so
let’s get this shit done, and then you both can get down to other
business.” She pursed her lips but I could see the curve in them as
though satisfied that whatever happened last night was now
over.

I swallowed and looked at Travis. Soon it would
be.

He took a seat in the spare chair by the desk,
and I faced the computer, discreetly shutting down the maps on the
internet tab. I called up the detailed outline of the Melbourne
trip and did what I could to focus on the words.

“Mac,” I said, reviewing the accommodation. “Why
is my name on here?”

“Because you’re coming, asshead,” she replied as
she tapped at the computer opposite me.

“I can’t,” I blurted out.

My deadline was two weeks. I needed to be gone
by then. The Melbourne trip was the perfect opportunity for me to
quietly slip away to the countryside without any interference.

Mac stopped tapping and I felt all eyes on me.
“Quinn, this is what you were hired to do. Why can’t you?”

“Well,” I drawled. I scratched at my head.
“Rufus,” I said and paused. “I can’t leave him here alone.”

The excuse was utter rubbish. Rufus would quite
happily visit with Lucy for a couple of days.

“Rubbish,” Mac said, verifying my own thoughts.
“Lucy can take him. You’re already booked in so I don’t want to
hear any more about it.”

My fingers gripped the edge of the desk with
both hands to hide the tremors. Travis frowned, his eyes moving
from my hands to my eyes. I turned my back and called up the map of
the festival area and clicked
print
while Mac distracted
Travis with talk about the accommodation and travel detail.

I passed Travis the sheet and start collating
the contact information of all involved. “Mac, I can’t locate the
contact info for the roadies driving the truck down to
Melbourne.”

“Hang on,” she muttered and with a few taps, the
contact zinged into my email. My fingers tapped efficiently, my
mind working hard to block everything else out as I pulled the
entire contact and run sheet together for Travis.

When the Jamieson line rang, Mac picked it up
for me.

“Jamieson. Mac speaking.”

The printer whirred in the background, blocking
out Mac’s words. My chair spun and I collected the printed sheets
from the tray.

“Quinn, it’s your ahh…mother on the phone for
you.”

The colour drained from my face as I spun back
around. “I’m not here,” I hissed.

In a panic I stood, yanking papers off our
joined desks. The frantic movement tipped over Mac’s coffee mug. My
hands made a grab for it, but I missed. “Shit,” I muttered, not
even registering the mug was empty.

I took a step back to flee.

“Quinn.” Breathless, I focused on Travis. “Maybe
you should talk to her?”

That was not something I’d been planning to do
for the rest of my natural life.

“
David owes us money…that now makes his debt
yours…”

The words came back to haunt me. Maybe talking
to her might give me some answers about what was going on.

“Wait!” I called to Mac when she opened her
mouth to speak. My chin lifted as my hand reached out for the
phone. “I’ll talk to her.”

She handed it over wordlessly.

“Beth,” I answered.

“Quinn.” Her voice sounded tired, nothing like
how I remembered. “We need to talk.”

“Yes, because we do that so well.” I heard her
sigh as though already fed up with the conversation before we’d
even started. “How did you find me?”

“You were in the paper. Something to do with
that rock band you appear to be working with.”

My knuckles whitened as my hand held tight to
the phone. “I was?”

Ten minutes later and I was in the passenger
seat while Travis drove us to my childhood home. Dread coiled
within me as Travis peppered me with questions the entire way
there.