Page 62 of Bastian

She goes on to tell me what she needs from me, and it makes me wish I could turn back time to a minute ago when I told her I would do anything.

I should’ve thought it better before agreeing till I knew exactly what she needed.

“I was going to go, but something came up.”

“It’s fine. I’ll handle it. It’s our company, after all.”

Quinne laughs, yet it sounds humorless. “Yours. Get it through that pretty thick skull of yours.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” I blow her off because even if the legal documents declare me the owner, to me, it will always be half Quinne’s. Period. “I am not responsible for whatever damages might occur to that…man.”

“Handle him like I know you can. He’s harmless.” I can, and if the need arises, I will. “Also, color me surprised when I woke up and saw your face all over social media and my TV.”

Yeah…that.

“I knew this could happen.”

She laughs. “Yes, but give him hell regardless.”

“Always will.”

“That’s my bitch.”

Rolling my eyes, I make a U-turn almost missing my exit. “I don’t know what’s going on, and knowing you, I might never know but you can count on me. Whatever you need apart from burying a body, I’m there for you.” I mean it. She and Benjamin kept me afloat, and I would do the same for them, but something about Quinne has always made me believe that there’s more to her than what she shows the world. Her smiles are fake, and she always has a foot out the door wherever she’s at. She might not tell me today, or maybe ever, but regardless, I am here whenever she decides to confide in me.

The bitch might annoy me to no end at times, but I do care for her.

Deeply.

“If you won’t help me hide the body, at least tell me you’re down for the murder.” She teases.

“Depends.”

“On what?” She asks.

“The murder method.”

Quinne laughs. “Nothing too bloody, of course. A hit and run, perhaps?”

Thinking about it for a second, I reply. “You drive.”

“So, you can argue that you weren’t a willing participant and make yourself seem to the court as another victim of mine?”

Smart Quinne.

“Precisely.”

“You little bitch. I taught you well.” My twisted friend laughs, and this time it’s more genuine. This laugh I believe. “I have to go. I’ll be in touch.” With that she hangs up, ending the call.

Whatever the hell is happening with her, I know it’s not good, but it’s up to us to fight our demons. No one else can do it for us.

That’s what life taught me more than once.

Ping.

The sound of a new notification sounds on my car’s speaker as I reach my destination.

My favorite kid’s boutique.

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