Page 107 of No Place Like Home

“Quincy.” Juliet spoke again. “Did she look okay?”

I glared at her, and Jake didn’t like it.

“Talk to your brother,” I told her as I got up and walked out.

As a matter of fact, I was going to talk to her brother as well. I didn’t know why I did it, but I turned to look at the damn quote as I walked out. Hoping that if for some reason it was haunted, it would give me the answers I needed.

She's a diamond that wants to stay coal.

It didn’t make anything clearer, so I left the shop. I forced myself to go home when all I wanted was to go back to see them. I needed to get my head together, because our arguing wouldn’t solve anything. It wasn’t going to make the last three years disappear.

When I pulled up, I went to the backyard. My intention was to go knock at Prescott's house and see if he was there, but Leo was outside with Simba.

My dog ran toward me, acting as if I’d left him alone for days rather than a few hours. The sun had set, and it was dark. I had more shooting tomorrow, but it would have to wait.

I jogged up to Leo, drinking some coffee while he worked on his iPad.

“You need to tell production I won't be able to film tomorrow,” I said, still not sure I would work out the schedules.

Leo sat up right away. “What the fuck, Hardwell? I can't do that.”

“I just found out I have a daughter, and I want to handle it before announcing it to the public,” I said before trying to walk away.

Leo’s face was how I imagined I looked. A mix of shock and anger.

“Is It a groupie? We can pay her off…” he started to say, snapping out of it.

“The fuck?” I hissed angrily. “That’s my child, and her mother isn’t a groupie!”

She’s mine.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREE

I was pacingmy living room when I heard a car pull into the driveway. This time, I peeked to make sure, so I wouldn’t be taken by surprise. Prescott's shiny car pulled up.

He was barely out of the car when I was running out.

“What the fuck, dude? You sold me out!”

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he wrapped me in his arms.

“Where’s Quinny?”

“Napping.”

His arms wrapped tighter against me, and I burrowed my face into his warmth. I was not going to cry. This was the exact reason why I came back.

“Like a Band-Aid, kiddo,” he whispered.

I closed my eyes, but that made it worse. All I could see was the look on Quincy’s face. I didn’t know it was going to hurt so much. To keep moving, I tried my best not to see the pain I’d caused him when I walked out of his house.

There was word for how I was feeling all these years, but I’d never let myself name it. But today, it was glaring at me: heartbreak.

“I hate that I hurt him,” I cried into his arms.

“That’s a good thing,” he answered.

He gave me a minute, since he wasn’t the mushy type, and then pulled me back just as his phone started to blow up.

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