Page 54 of Tin

His hand rakes through my hair, catching the thick curls in his fingers and yanking me up to my feet. He leans in, hovering over my face, and his spit sprays when he speaks. “What was that? Were you saying thank you for fixing your little problem?”

My instinct is to nod, but his grip on my hair is so strong it’s impossible to move. So I whisper, “Thank you.” Another gush of blood runs down my leg. “Asshole.”

For a moment, he’s so shocked he just glares at me. But I know it’s only temporary. I’m counting on it. I’m hoping for it. Desperate for another blow. A bigger one. This time aimed at me. One that will take me out so I don’t have to feel what I’m feeling right now. Because knowing that I just let the man I love kill the baby I dreamed of is a new kind of hell even I can’t bear.

Then it happens. Still holding me by the hair, he charges forward, slamming me into the wall headfirst. And because he’s an extra special kind of pissed now, his hands alone aren’t going to do it.

Blood is running down the side of my face and over my eye, but I can just make out the table lamp he rips from the desk right before it crashes into my skull and I collapse again.

Dazed from the pounding in my head, I don’t even try to move. I just lie there in a pool of my own blood, waiting for the Grim Reaper to come and take what’s left of me while Jackson proceeds to whip my battered body with the lamp’s cord.

He works himself into such a frenzy he doesn’t even notice when Harley manages to escape the bedroom and comes barreling into the room ready to attack.

Through blurred vision, I watch as the most loyal friend I have in this world sinks his teeth into Jackson’s arm, temporarily forcing him to stop slashing away at my raw and mangled skin.

Panic strikes me at my core. I know Jackson. He’ll kill Harley for this.

In a swirl of growls and shouting, chaos ensues as they both take their stance—Harley shielding me with his own body, Jackson preparing to lunge straight for him because I no longer matter in this equation.

“Harley, no!” I shout from somewhere inside of me I thought was already destroyed. But for the first time in his life, he completely disobeys me.

Jackson advances and gets a hold of Harley just long enough to throw him across the room, where he crashes into the opposite wall with a loud thud and heartbreaking wail.

He continues to whimper, but I can’t hear anything else. No movement. Not from Harley anyway.

Jackson has a sickening grin on his face as he turns away from me and starts toward my dog.

Only he never gets to where he’s going. Because I’m on my feet. I’m picking up the lamp. And I’m swinging it. Hard. And straight at his head.

I watch as he tumbles to the ground, total shock in his eyes. I swing again, smashing his face and waiting for the baffled look over my betrayal to shatter. I keep going. I can’t stop now. I just keep swingingthe lamp and letting it crash into some other despicable part of the monster. Long after it stops moaning. After it stops moving. Twitching. Breathing. I still swing. And I scream. And for the first time in years, I hear my own voice when I do.

“Quinn. Wake up, baby. It’s okay. Mommy’s here, baby.” My mother’s voice slowly gets louder over the sound of my own screaming, and I follow it until I can hear it clearly, calling me to safety.

It’s not until I open my eyes that the screaming stops. I swallow. My throat feels hoarse, and I know that part wasn’t just in my dream.

“I’m...okay. It’s okay.” I nod repeatedly. Mostly for my own sake. I’m drenched in sweat as usual, and I find myself checking my own hands over and over for any traces of blood. My mind is still convinced it’s there, even if my eyes can’t find it.

“No, you’re not. You’re not okay, Quinn. This is not okay.” My mother is shaking her head, anguish in her strained voice. “What can I do? How can I help? Please, I just want to make this better for you. Tell me what you need.”

I rest my head on her shoulder and let her rock me gently back and forth. “Riker. I need Riker.” But he’s not here to save me anymore.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

RIKER

“She doesn’t know I’m here?”

Kirsten shakes her head but keeps walking up the stairs to the courthouse.

I hurry to catch up to her again. “No one thought it might be good to warn her?”

“No. You know Quinn. She’s not particularly good at accepting help from others. That’s not an annoying little something she reserves exclusively for you, you know.”

We walk in through the massive glass doors, and Kirsten doesn’t even hesitate. The gigantic hall is nothing if not intimidating, but she clearly knows exactly where she’s going.

“How long ago did they start?” I glance at my watch for what’s probably the five hundredth time this morning. I have plenty of time. I’m not due to take the stand for another thirty minutes.

“About three hours ago. Quinn had to give her testimony first thing this morning. Last I heard from Devyn’s assistant, she was still being questioned by the Murphys’ lawyer.” Her tiny little nose twitches, showing her disgust. I’ve noticed it does that every time she says his name. Jackson. Murphy. What physical reactions have I developed as a result of knowing it now too? My fists clench every time I hear it, but that’s a no-brainer.

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