Behind Your Back (28 page)

The guy screams as Hardy calmly walks back to us.

“I think it’s time to go.” I throw Cash’s arm over my shoulder and Baz gets his other side as we make a hasty retreat, the guy and his buddies screaming murderous threats at us. Hopefully they’re all so wasted none of them will remember this interaction tomorrow morning. But I have a feeling the asshole on the floor is going to be wondering what the hell happened.

“Did you have to drop him like that?” Row says. I can tell he’s pissed that the night has come to an end. I throw Cash in the car with Baz and then hop behind the wheel with Row and Hardy as Track drives the other car. We all leave at once, but vary our driving patterns so we arrive at the garage where we keep the cars at different times.

“We should do that more often,” Baz says. “But can we go to a place with girls next time?” There’s a collective eye roll as we figure who’s taking the drunkies home so they can sleep it off.

“Going to a bar never used to be this much work,” Hardy says. “But I’m glad we did. Even if that asshole did try to start something. Maybe next time I’ll lay whoever it is out and give everyone a good show.” His eyes sparkle a little and I think maybe the next time we should go somewhere that doesn’t have as many drunk guys looking to start a fight. The last thing we need is for one of the boys to get arrested.

Everyone says goodnight and I have the delightful job of getting Cash home and in bed. He’s done it for me enough times, so I might as well return the favor.

He’s mumbling as I shove him up the stairs of his place and toward this bedroom. I shove some aspirin down his throat and some more water. I make sure to leave some extra with him, get him undressed, in bed and tilt his head to the side.

“Good night, big guy.” I’m about to turn and leave when a sound stops me. Cash is quietly sobbing.

Not sure what to do, I turn around and look down at him. I’ve never seen Cash cry. I’ve never seen any of the guys cry. Not that we don’t, I just think by virtue of what we do that we bottle it up and save it for when we’re alone.

“They’re all dead,” he moans, grabbing his face. “They’re all dead.”

His parents. He was the one who found them and I think that’s one of the reasons we share so much. We both know what it’s like to walk in on a murdered parent. Cash had it harder, though. I always wonder how he’s able to stay so upbeat.

“It’s okay, Cash. It’s okay. It’s over,” I say, patting his shoulder. He looks up at me with so much pain in his eyes that I want to look away.

“It’s not over, it’s not over,” he says again and again. I have nothing I can say to him that’s going to convince him, so I sit on the bed next to him and wait for him to go to sleep. Eventually he tires himself out and his eyes close and then he starts softly snoring. He won’t remember this, but I will.

Cash was much younger than I when his parents died. I can’t imagine what that’s like to be in your formative years and have something like that break you. I make my way back to my place and decide to hop the fence and hang out in one of the parks for a while.

I think about my mother. About Lizzy. About Cash. I think about all the lives ruined by circumstances out of their control.

I think about going over to Saige’s place again, but I don’t. It is extremely late and I don’t think she’ll indulge me twice in one week. I don’t need her knocking my defenses down and making me tell her things I shouldn’t be telling her.

But.

I need her.

I go back to my place and change my clothes and pack an extra set. I know I smell like dirt and smoke and alcohol, but I don’t care. It’s an easy thing to get into her apartment building and then into her place. I walk into her bedroom and she’s lying in bed, staring at the ceiling.

“I had a feeling you were going to come,” she says, not at all surprised to see me.

“How did you know?” My voice is rough as I strip and climb into bed with her.

“Intuition,” she says, holding her arms open for me.

Twenty-Six

T
he next morning, Saige doesn’t ask me why I needed to stay with her. She just lets me fuck her slowly and then takes a shower with me again.

“You should start keeping some of your stuff here. Although I do enjoy you walking around smelling like me.” She smiles and I devour her mouth.

“Maybe I will,” I say. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I just know that I need to hold onto every moment with her that I have so I can take her with me. I’ve never felt this way about someone and I can’t deny it anymore. I don’t think it’s love, but it’s as close to that as I’ve ever gotten. I don’t know how it happened, but now I’m in the middle, it makes all the sense in the world. Saige is an impossible person not to love. She’s everything I never knew I wanted or needed.

I wish I didn’t have to leave her. I wish I could say “fuck it” and quit my job and forget about everything I’ve done. Talk about wishing you could live someone else’s life.

Saige makes me breakfast and sends me to work with a kiss and a promise that she’ll be waiting for me when I’m done.

Work is hard. I’m unfocused and I have to ask a few of my clients to repeat themselves on the phone. I text Cash on the burner on my lunch break, asking him if he’s okay. He just sends me back a picture of him giving a thumbs up. I’m not going to ask him if he remembers last night. It doesn’t seem right to bring it up.

T
he rest of the week I spend with Saige or at work or sleeping. And she cuts into both work and sleeping. I’m obsessed. When I’m not with her, I’m thinking about her and when I can see her again.

We don’t spend all our time naked, though. She has a life and I respect her study time. As long as I’m with her, I don’t even care what we’re doing. Even if I’m just watching her study.

She takes me to a student art exhibit and we critique the work and I find myself consumed with laughter from her sharp tongue. She doesn’t pull any punches when it comes to what she deems crappy art, but when she sees something she likes, she gets so animated and excited, and even if I don’t get it, I can feel her passion.

I let myself enjoy her, really enjoy her for the first time. I let my guard down a little and pretend that I’m Quinn and she is my girlfriend Saige.

“Are we ready to talk labels?” she asks me on Saturday night when we’re in bed. I’m exhausted and still trying to get the blood back to my brain after an intense naked session.

“You mean you want to define the relationship?” Her hand stills on my chest where it had been tracing the outline of my anchor tattoo.

“Does this have to do with going to your parents tomorrow?” I ask.

“A little. I just want to know where this is going. I’m not trying to put any pressure on you and if you’re not ready for this step, that’s okay. But I think we have something special and I’d like to take it to the next level.” I don’t know what to say.

“You think about it and get back to me,” she says, dipping her head to kiss the anchor, her hair brushing across my chest and hiding her face from view.

“Yes,” I say and she looks up at me.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I want to define the relationship.” Quinn wants to define the relationship. He gets to be her boyfriend. Not Sylas. But that’s close enough.

She beams at me.

“So you’re saying you want me to be your girlfriend, which means tomorrow when we go to my parents I’m going to introduce you as my boyfriend?” I nod and she kisses me hard while laughing.

“That was so easy,” she says. “You’re a total pushover. I didn’t even have to give you an ultimatum.”

“If I had said no, would you have?”

She shrugs one naked shoulder.

“I knew you wouldn’t, so it doesn’t matter, Quinn Brand, my boyfriend.” We kiss again and that’s enough talking for a while.

T
he next day I go back to my place on the pretense that the shirt and tie I want to wear aren’t at Saige’s. I’ve brought a lot of my stuff to her place and I feel bad about leaving Leo so alone. If things go well tonight, I might just bring him to come stay with me at Saige’s. I don’t think she’d mind.

The surveillance equipment is hidden here there and everywhere. I’ve got it strapped to my body and it’s a good thing it’s all small and inconspicuous.

I’ve got my plan all laid out. I’ve got contingency plans and contingency plans for contingency plans. I’ve thought of nearly every possibility. Plus, I’ve done this before.

I pick Saige up and this time she’s wearing a dress that’s so low in the back her tattoo is completely visible. It’s still just black ink, but even without the color, it’s beautiful. It looks so natural on her. As if it was always there and Crash just rubbed some skin away to reveal it.

“You’re going to be in so much trouble,” I say as she shows me.

“You think my mom is going to flip?”

“Probably. Are you trying to give her a heart attack?” She just laughs.

“Oh, she’ll get over it once I tell her that you’re officially my boyfriend.” I’m having misgivings about that particular bit of information coming out tonight.

“You’re trouble, Redhead,” I say, pulling her in for a kiss and stroking the bare skin of her back. This dress offers plenty of access to her creamy skin, which is a definite plus.

She laughs and goes to adjust her hair but then curses.

“My bracelet is stuck, can you help me?” I reach up and unwind her hair from where it’s gotten wrapped around the charm on her bracelet.

I see these types of bracelets everywhere. It reminds me of Lizzy’s, only this initial is an S.

“Thanks,” she says. “You’re my hero.”

“Hardly,” I say, telling her the truth. She shakes her head at me and locks the door behind her.

S
aige’s parents notice the tattoo right away.

“Oh, Saige, what have you done?” Her mother holds her hands to her face in shock. Mr. Beaumont is less surprised. He seems to know more about his daughter than her mother does.

“It’s a tattoo,” she says, stating the obvious as she flashes her back. She’s clearly pleased with herself and the ruckus she’s causing. Her father shakes his head.

“I hope you went somewhere clean,” he says and gives her a kiss on the cheek before shaking my hand, a little more gently this time.

“What are you going to do when you get married?” Bridgette practically wails. “I want you to go to a doctor and get that lasered off. Right away.” I have to bite back a laugh. Getting tattoos removed is not that easy and it’s an extremely painful process. Most people who have tattoos they don’t want either live with them or get them covered up with another design.

“No way,” Saige says. “I love it and it’s not your body. It’s mine. I choose what I get to do with it.” She takes my arm and steps past her still-scandalized mother, into the room where we had drinks last time.

I have no choice but to follow her. This night is going to be interesting, to say the least.

S
aige’s mom spends the next half hour trying to convince her to undo the tattoo that is already done. Mr. Beaumont tries to placate her, but it’s no use.

I’m surprised Saige doesn’t mention my tattoos in her own defense. But I’d rather not have her father know about that particular bit of me. It’s much easier to play the Quinn part that way.

Finally fed up with the lecturing, Saige lets the bomb drop that we’re officially dating. Her mother makes a sound I’ve never heard from a human before. It’s halfway between a scream and the kind of sound a bat makes. Her face goes red and I think she’s going to leap over the table and strangle me, but Saige puts her hand on my arm.

“My choices have nothing to do with you, Mom. I’m living my own life. You can’t control me anymore, or try to make me into something I’m not. We all know how well that worked out when I was a kid.” She rolls her eyes and looks at her father for a lifeline.

“Why don’t we all just calm down,” Beaumont says, but clearly Bridgette does not want to be calmed, so he takes her out of the room for a breather. This is my chance, so I tell Saige I’m going to use the bathroom. I hear Beaumont and Bridgette arguing in the den and it sounds like it’s not ending anytime soon.

As quickly as I can, I slip into his office. I’m going to have to work fast. I set up the recording devices for video and sound in each corner, under his desk and in a few other places. Every inch is covered. His laptop is out on the desk and turned on. It’s not even locked and I almost start laughing. This man must really trust everyone. In only a few moments I’ve installed the invisible tracking software and downloaded everything on the hard drive. I slip the thumb drive in my pocket and make sure everything is in its place and that I haven’t left anything behind.

Confident, I wipe my prints off anything I may have touched, including the doorknob and open the door cautiously. I close it, wipe the handle and then go into the bathroom. I run the water, send Cash an all systems go text and then come out again.

I nearly run into Beaumont on my way back to the dinner table. I keep my face calm as he snags my arm and pulls me aside.

“Is something wrong?” I say in a neutral tone.

“No, I just wanted to talk to you. It seems as if you and Saige have made things official.”

“Yes. I care for your daughter very much.” A truth. His eyes narrow, as if he’s trying to see if I’m pulling a fast one.