The Land of Rabbits (Long Shot Love Duet #1) (19 page)

BOOK: The Land of Rabbits (Long Shot Love Duet #1)
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He positions a large bandage over the area, carefully smoothing it out before taking another bite of his sandwich.

This is all so unexpected.

“I never would’ve thought I’d be sitting in a tent, in the middle of a rainstorm, with two men in their boxers, drinking whiskey and talking about getting beat up for wanting to get a job.”

Quinn laughs, but Dylan acts bothered every time I speak. It’s obvious he’s suspicious of me... he doesn’t think I should be with his brother.

“Do you doubt yourself or any of this, Little Miss Picture-Perfect?”

I give him the finger and take a big swig of whiskey.

“I’m serious. Got any worries about living out here with the rest of the rats?”

“I wouldn’t be human if I didn’t.”

“Tell me,” Quinn asks tenderly. “I want to know what you’re thinking.”

I turn away for a moment—watching drops of water invade the corner of the tent, plopping down onto one of Quinn’s shirts. I move it away from the spot and push the roof of the tent, dispersing the pool that’s formed.

After listening to the rain and pondering the situation, I take two bites of my apple and pass it to Quinn before giving them a vague answer...

“My mom often quoted the bible when she was mad at me. If she were here, she’d be lecturing us about eating the forbidden fruit.”

He stops halfway through his bite, making eye contact for a moment, then finishes sinking his teeth into the apple.

“My self-doubt got stuck in a murder scene last year and never checked out.” I take another gulp of whiskey and offer some to Dylan, who immediately starts to chug a good amount down. “Most of my reservations are trapped back there, with my mom, in that time... solely because there’ve been no answers. I’d say my emotions now have more to do with disorder and bewilderment, than doubt... if that makes any sense. And just so you know, she thought not believing in yourself was a weakness. That’s ingrained in my head.”

Dylan cracks up and hands the bottle back. “You have no idea how fucking vulnerable you are... and you’re also so full of shit. I don’t believe a word you just said.”

I swirl the bottle, scrunching my nose at the amount he drank.

“Quinn, something’s gonna happen to this chick and the cops are gonna come for you. She’s too confident to be on the streets. She has to have
some
fears to survive.”

“I’ll watch over her.” He wipes the crumbs from his hands and takes another drink, rubbing his mouth with his fingers when he’s done.

“She’s a fool. A sitting duck.”

“No, I’m not. I said I wouldn’t be human if I didn’t have any worries about being here. I chose to talk about my mom instead. Deal with it.”

“But
I’m
still waiting to hear.” Quinn leans back on his elbows and stretches his legs next to mine.

“Later,” I say softly, not wanting to say too much in front of his brother.

I no longer hear heavy drops above my head or distant thunder. The tent brightens as the rain slows and the skies start to clear. I smile at Quinn as he strokes his stubble, preoccupied with his own thoughts. He gazes at his brother then back at me, back and forth for a minute while we sit in silence.

“You know what?” he says, opening the humid tent to let in some cooler air. “I think we’re fucking happy. Every damn one of us. Come on, beautiful.” He holds out his hand. “Let’s go relax in front of the TV at your place.”

I take his hand with a smile, stepping into a light drizzle as Dylan teasingly whines, “Wait, you’re leaving me? For pussy? Again?”

I inhale the fresh scent of the rain before opening my tent, checking to see if it stayed dry.

“Stop by tomorrow night. Tell me how the job search went.”

“I think I’ll hang here for a while. Trent said he’s coming down. He’s been looking for a new spot since the cops won’t stop harassing him at the park.”

“Why doesn’t he stay at his cousin’s?”

“She’s got a new guy who’s always over.”

“Okay... as long as you don’t bother me, it’s cool.”

“You mean don’t listen to you fuck?”

I hear a
smack
then a boisterous laugh from Dylan... I’m pretty sure Quinn hit him.

“Thanks for the cash, bro!”

“No problem,” Quinn says, creeping inside my tent, moving toward me on all fours. He brushes his nose along my cheek until his full lips capture my mouth for a long, slow kiss. “I was getting hard when we were in my tent,” he whispers, tracing the outline of my face as he speaks.

I touch his stiff dick through his thin cotton boxers, starting a chain reaction... a heavy breath, a sudden nip of my neck, and a hand under my shirt for a gentle caress of my breasts.

“If my brother wasn’t four feet away, I’d fuck you.”

“I can hear you!” Dylan pokes fun.

“Go for a walk!” Quinn yells.

“Ahh, Trent’s here.”

He rests his palm along my jawline, devoting another passionate kiss before slowly backing away with a grin.

“You made my day again.”

My legs are pulled around his waist and we sit and talk, making plans as Dylan helps Trent pick a spot to crash for the night.

“Did you bring a blanket?”

“A small one. It’s a bit wet, but might dry by the time I go to sleep.”

“If not, you can use my sleeping bag... what about water?”

“Yep, and toilet paper, my birth control pills, a flashlight, the basics. And I brought pepper spray, but thanks for the knife.”

“You bet... I just hope you never have to use it. Keep it hidden, like your cash. You don’t want the cops to ever see you carrying a weapon.”

“Got it.”

“Adlyn...” He lowers his head with a hard swallow.

“You can call me Addie. It’s what my mom called me.”

He nods, biting his top lip.

“You okay?”

“I’m just worried about you... about a lot of shit. I’m falling for an innocent girl who shouldn’t be out in this camp.”

“Quinn, I—”

“I don’t want to fuck this up. I don’t want Dylan to fuck it up, or Trent, or my Dad, either. Why don’t you walk into the city tomorrow morning with me, instead of staying down here? Maybe hang out at the library until I get off work...” He sighs. “I just wish I had more so I could get out of here.”

“Well, what do I have? You’re looking at this as being one-sided. We’re equal now.”

He shakes his head, hesitant to accept that’s the truth.

“I didn’t come here because I want more, I did it because I want less. I hope you understand that.”

“I do,” he says, massaging my lower legs, moving his hand slowly along my body. He guides me to lie back, taking off my jeans to stroke my bare legs. My mind’s soothed by his touch while our whispered conversation continues.

“Who’s the guy that walks around in his underwear?”

“Joshua? He’s pretty cool. He told me he has a Ph.D. in religious studies.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Not everyone’s homeless because they’re uneducated or broke. He’s the type who
wants
to be here. He said homes force limits on their owners. You have to stay within a boundary, like you’re in captivity.”

“That’s sorta how I was feeling... guilty too.”

“He’s one of the smartest men I’ve ever met, and fun to talk to. He has some cool stories from when he was a professor.”

“And Connie? She seems okay.”

“Somewhat okay. She heads out at night and works the streets in exchange for whatever drug she can get her hands on. I thought she’d be dead when I got back. She’s the reason I was reading that drug addiction book—I thought I could help her.”

“You’re awesome,” I say in a hushed tone, watching his face fade with the dwindling sun. He inches on top of me, kissing my neck and ears, sliding his body quietly over mine—our underwear rubs, our hands delicately touch each other’s hair, and my lips are cherished with the most affectionate kisses... God, I love how connected I feel to him... an intimacy I’ve never experienced before.

... it’s because he hasn’t gotten his pecker sucked in years. He’ll come off this high soon enough... yo, why don’t you stay here tonight. Screw going back to your dad’s. We’ll lure Quinn out with the beer I brought. Get him to worship us like old times.

“I knew that was coming... Trent’s such an ass.” He sits up with a loud exhale, slipping his fingertips down my body. “My brother doesn’t care if people watch him fuck, but I sure as hell do. I know they’re gonna open your tent and see us. I hate that shit. And they’re gonna haul me out of here soon enough, two against one. I don’t want it to happen when I’m inside you.”

“It’s alright. I don’t want to talk to them, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t. We’ll hang out later or tomorrow.”

He looks at his erection, trying to tuck it away. “When it’s dark, I’ll take you up the trail a ways, into the woods where no one’s around. We’ll fuck so hard when we get there.”

I shift closer to him, moving his dick through the slit in his boxers. My tongue glides up his length, circling his engorged, red crown before taking him deep to the back of my throat. I suck as I pull out, my play triggering an erotic moan in approval.

“My cock can’t wait to be in you.”

He lifts my chin, an expression of power and control in his eyes as he teases a slow response...

“You’re in so much trouble.”

 

 

Chapter Ten

ADRIFT

 

“GET THE FUCK OFF ME! GET OFF!”

The whiskey bottle rolls out of my hand. It’s pitch-black... I think Quinn’s sleeping bag’s on top of me... I must’ve passed out...

“Fucking bastards!”

“Quinn?” I search for my flashlight, the pepper spray, the knife, anything. It’s too dark. What the hell’s happening?

“Get your little punk ass brother off me!”

I sit up and touch my body. I’m still dressed and the knife’s in my pocket... fuck, dizzy...

“You son of a bitch!”

Flesh strikes flesh. People whisper in nearby shelters. I hear rustling. A quarrel. A fistfight.

“I can’t believe you fuckers used my cash for a whore! Get her out of here!”

I stagger outside in my bare feet, following the voices of Quinn and Trent to the riverbank.

“Trent!”

That’s Dylan.

I can see them now. Trent’s hands are around Quinn’s neck and Dylan’s pounding on Trent’s back to get him to stop.

“Get back! Let me fight this little dipshit!”

Trent releases his grip once Dylan stumbles a few feet away from them... they’re batshit crazy... and now that I’m closer, I can see a big nasty-looking woman’s here too... topless, holding a beer, not at all surprised by the scene.

Quinn takes a quick swing, sending Trent to the ground in a thud. He gets back up and they wrestle to take each other down.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. My hands shake, blood’s pumping, my pulse is in a frantic pace...

Dylan rubs his chin with an open mouth as he watches them roll along the edge of the river. He steps forward and clutches the back of Trent’s neck, pulling him off.

“Let’s finish the fuck. We’re gonna get charged for an extra hour, man.”

Quinn gets up and races toward Dylan, attacking him with all his might. He knocks him across the jaw and pushes him back, trying to get him to fight.

“When you gonna grow up, Dylan? Huh? Both of you. You’re messing with me again. I’m tired of all this shit!”

“Bro, don’t act like such a douche. We’ll share her.”

Quinn swings, but his hand’s caught by Trent. Their faces are lit by the moon—blood trickles from noses, bodies are covered in mud, and shoes sink in the soil as the river behind them rises from the stormy day.

“I’m outta here,” the woman says, looking around for her shirt.

“To hell you are, bitch. Don’t even think about it.”

“Shut up down there!”
someone yells from the woods.

We’re all drunk, them more than me, though Trent’s the worst. I take a step back, frightened by the vibe he gives off.

“You filthy goddamn whore! Don’t you dare cover those tits!”

“Bite me, motherfucker. I’m calling Rafe. He’s gonna kick your ass when he finds out you’ve treated one of his girls like shit. Now, gimme the rest of my money!”

She holds out her hand, tapping her foot in the mud as Quinn staggers forward and takes another swing at Trent.

“If you’re not paying me, you’re fucked,” she says.

Trent flies into a rage, shoving Quinn toward the Hudson until he’s teetering on the edge—one leg’s raised and his arms spin like a windmill as he tries to keep his balance.

“Don’t!” Dylan shouts.

It’s too late. Trent swings and knocks him into the water.

“Drop it!” He runs toward the woman, knocking the cell out of her hand.

He drags her by her hair to the edge and she’s next to go in, her screams ceasing when she sinks next to Quinn.

“Bro, swim... get to the edge!”

“Fuck!” He bobs, the current carrying him away from our sight.

“Quinn!” I run to the bank.

“Swim against it!” Dylan shouts.

Trent picks up her cell, whipping it into the water.

“Get her off!” Quinn yells.

“Don’t panic! Swim, buddy!”

“She’s...” His head vanishes under water.

“Do something!” I beg. “Go get him or call the police! Call someone for help!”

“No!” Trent roars.

“What’s going on down there?!”
a voice shouts from the trees.

Yelling, rage, and fast moving water ... my head’s spinning.

Quinn surfaces with a gasp, struggling to stay above water.

“Get her off me! She’s drowning me!” he hollers. “Dylan...” He goes under, his arms fighting the current, straining to get to the edge. “Dylan!”

His brother does nothing. I can’t believe he’s not helping.

“Go in and get him!” I plead. “Please! He’s gonna drown!”

“I can’t swim!” Dylan rushes past, following Quinn further down the river.

“You get him, bitch.”

Trent picks me up, my legs and arms thrashing to get away.

“No! Don’t! Don’t—”

I’m thrown in, immediately jerked by an undercurrent and taken down the river. I kick, kick, kick, and kick, reaching the surface with all my might.

“Quinn!” I shout.

“Addie!”

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