Page 123 of Scars Like Wings

“I know you mentioned you do contract work as well as real estate before. This is givingGoodfellas,Mulan, andBravevibes to me now.”

Quinn snorted and shrugged halfheartedly. Quinn and I had been talking long enough for me to know that that shrug meant we were in the territory where there was more that she wasn’t telling me. I took a bite, filling my mouth with spicy chocolate. I chewed thoughtfully for a moment. I probably would have moaned again if the conversation was different. “Your family’s business sounds like something you either don’t want to tell me about?—”

“Trust me, sweetness,” she interrupted. “I want to tell you. I would tell you everything if I could.”

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ here.”

“It’s dangerous. Yes, for my family, but also for you. If you knew the work we did—thatIdid—you could be at risk. There are people who would use you to get to me if they knew you knew. I refuse to ever put you in harm’s way.Ever. So, if itmeans not telling you the whole truth, I’m so sorry. I don’t want you to feel like I’m lying to you or keeping something from you. It isn’t from a bad place. I just want to protect you and keep you safe.” Quinn’s eyes were locked onto me, and there was nothing there but genuine honesty. I knew I could trust her and that she wasn’t lying to me.

“You can tell me the whole truth, I get it. Are there parts of the truth that you can tell me? I want to know you, Quinn. I want to know everything about you. Even the parts you don’t like. We are girlfriends now. If we can, we should lay everything on the table that we can.”

“I don’t know…” Quinn shook her head with her hand in her hair again.

“Okay, how about this?” I took the last bite of my cake pop and swallowed. I continued as I picked up my phone to go sit on the couch. “Let’s make it into a game of sorts.”

“Oh, my mom used to make things I hated into games. I’m sold already.”

“I will tell you something I have never told anyone before, and you give me a tiny fraction of what your day-to-day looks like. It doesn’t have to be major. It could be your job title or something you have to do every day for work or your favorite part about working.”

Quinn considered the rules, and she slowly nodded her head. “Okay, sweets, I’m down.”

“Perfect! I will go first!” I thought for a moment what to tell first, toying with my mom’s pendant around my neck as I considered my options. Then I finally decided. “So, at one of my first dance recitals when I was about five or six years old, I introduced myself as ‘Bitch-ette’ instead of Brydgette because I was missing my front teeth and was so freaking nervous. Pops has it on video somewhere, and it used to be one of his favorite home movies. I always dreaded bringing someone home for himto show it to them because it issoembarrassing. Like, how did I not even know my own fucking name?”

Quinn cackled with laughter as I willed my face to cool from the heat of my embarrassment. “Okay, but that is fuckingadorable! You definitely shouldn’t be embarrassed about that.”

Quinn thought for a second of what she was going to reveal. “So, at work, I’m a Team Leader of sorts. I tend to work with Nat and the boys more than anyone else. They report to me, and I give them commands. When we are at work, we aren’t cousins. We are coworkers, and I’m their manager.”

“Oh, I love a woman in power.” I winked, making Quinn snort. “Do y’all work well together?”

“They listen to me and respect me at work. They know I’m good at what I do, so they trust that. Cooper can be… annoying sometimes, but we rarely go for each other’s throats.”

“That’s great! Okay, um, let’s see… Oh, I have something I’ve never told anyone, even Simone and Maisie!”

“Go for it.”

“When I was born, my Aunt Max got me this stuffed bunny because I just looked so innocent, according to her. Gods, I loved that bunny. I carried it with me everywhere, and I would have a meltdown if I didn’t have it. I just couldn’t sleep without it. Pops had to turn around once two hours into a five-hour road trip because we had left it at home.” I smiled at the memory of Mom telling the story. Mom always said it was Pops’ fault that Stella was forgotten that day because he was rushing them when Mom was trying to go through her list of what we all needed. Pops would just shake his head but never deny that Mom was right. “Anyway, I still have that bunny, and I take her almost everywhere I can. I never sleep well without her.”

“Aw, what’s her name?”

“Stella. I loved the name as a kid, so I named her that and it stuck.”

“Why haven’t you ever told anyone that? It’s so cute!”

“I guess I’ve always thought it was childish or someone would judge me or not understand. I don’t know. I’ve always been scared to tell anyone and get made fun of.”

“Baby girl, that isn’t childish or anything like that. I think it’s adorable. It brings you comfort, and there’s no shame or anything in that. Plus, it has happy memories associated with it. It’s special and important to you. That means it’s special and important to me. I would love to meet Stella one day.”

I beamed at the phone. My heart swelled so full of affection. Telling Quinn secrets that I had kept so close to my chest for so long was so easy and nice. I didn’t feel any judgment from her. She just seemed to take it in stride. Words couldn’t describe how much I cherished that.

“Thank you, pumpkin.”

“Anytime, sweets,” Quinn smiled. “Speaking of security blankets we take everywhere… you know, my knives?

“Tina and Amy?”

“I love that you remembered,” Quinn smirked as she reached off-screen to grab the black blades. They still glowed with color and energy. She looked down at them as she spoke. “Well, I got these from my grandmother when I was a toddler. She was excellent at metalwork, something that my Aunt CK—the cousins’ mom—and Cooper inherited. They are not nearly as good as she was, though. Grandma Jane was a hard-ass about a lot of things and refused to take anyone’s shit, but with her metalwork, there’s a strange softness and vulnerability. They are like a handmade quilt but pointy? That sounds ridiculous, I know. But she just put love into her work. Seeing these knives just takes me back to when she taught me how to throw knives in her backyard while some horrible casserole was cooking in the oven for dinner—I didnotinherit my cooking skills from her.” We laughed before she kept on. “These daggers were the lastthings she made before she died, and she made them especially for me. So, I carry them with me everywhere I go. I’ve always thought there was power in that, like they were blessed with her protection or something.”

“That’s beautiful, starlight. It sounds like your grandmother was a hell of a lady and an amazing blacksmith to make those daggers. May I ask: was she a witch or something and that’s why the blades are magicked?”

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