Page 22 of Tin

Riker ignores his request to be let go and looks over his shoulder at me, still keeping Carson pinned in place. “Call the police. Right now.”

His tone is completely different from ten seconds ago. Even the ferocious glare in his eyes is gone. There’s something else there now. Sadness. Worry. Pain. It’s even more terrifying than his anger.

“I can’t.” I shake my head. It’s the first time I’ve been able to move since Carson first assaulted me.

“Yes, you can,” Riker reassures me calmly.

But he’s wrong. The tears continue to stream down my face because now I’m not the only one being hurt by this. Riker’s in it too. He won’t walk away untouched by this, and that knowledge is enough to make me want to dissolve into a puddle on the cold, hard pavement. “I can’t call the police. I’m sorry. I can’t. I can’t.” I don’t know what else to say.

He doesn’t understand. “Why not? Quinn. I saw what he was doing. I saw it!” He nearly chokes on the words, forcing them out through clenched teeth.

“Please,” I beg. “Just let him go. And take me home.” I timidly place my hand on his shoulder. “Please.”

Carson hasn’t said a word since realizing Riker has the upper hand between them.

Still holding him by his shirt, Riker begins to move him into a more natural position again, letting him put weight evenly on his feet.

“You listen to me, you piece of shit. You never,nevertouch her again. I ever see you so much as walking in her general vicinity, I will come after you. And I promise you, Quinn won’t be able to save your sorry ass a second time.” He doesn’t wait for Carson to answer. Just releases his grip on the now-ripped dress shirt and then turns away.

Riker’s barely reached my side when Carson comes at him from behind. All I see is Riker’s fist swinging past my face and making impact with Carson’s jaw. Two more punches and he hits the pavement, giving no indication that he’ll be able to get to his feet again anytime soon.

“Quinn. Quinn!” Riker’s hands are firmly on my shoulders, holding me in place. “Quinn. You need to take a breath for me. Okay? Deep breath. Come on. You can do it.” His deep voice is calm in spite of everything else around us.

I try to do what he says, but my whole body is shaking so hard I think I might be having convulsions. Unable to do anything but nod, I close my eyes and try to retreat to somewhere within. Somewhere far, far away from here.

I’m already drifting off into the black abyss that is my soul when I vaguely take note of being carried. I can smell him. Feel his skin on mine. The stubble on his jaw brushing against my forehead. And I start to come back. Because there’s nowhere safer than here. With him.

Next thing I know, I’m sitting in his old Ford pickup and listening to the sound of his voice. He’s talking to someone. It’s not me. He’s on the phone.

“Sorry, Sid. I know it was my idea. I feel like an ass, believe me, but I can’t make it. Not tonight.” Out of the corner of my eye I watch him push the phone across his dash. It slides until it gets stuck right below the windshield.

“I ruined your plans,” I croak.

His hand reaches out to rest on my leg, squeezing it lightly. “You didn’t ruin anything. Besides, you know damn well I’d rather spend the night in with you than be out with anyone else.” He smiles, but it’s not the same as before.He’snot the same as before. Because of what he saw. He’ll never be able to unsee it. And he’ll never be able to look at me the same because of it.

“Thank you.” The words seem hollow in comparison to what he did. But they need to be said, so I say them.

He just shakes his head. “No. Don’t thank me for doing the only acceptable thing.” The hand he has on the steering wheel curls into a fist before it flattens out again, slamming into the rim. “FuckingCarson Winn! Motherfucking piece of shit!” Then out of nowhere, he turns toward me, anguish in his eyes. “I swear if I had known he would do something like this...that he was capable, Quinn, I never would have let it get this far.”

“What are you talking about?” My throat clenches up mid-sentence as another tsunami of emotions threatens to take me down. “This was not your fault. If anything, it was mine.”

Riker doesn’t say anything. He just yanks the steering wheel to the side and then slams on his brakes, parking on the shoulder. He pulls me into his lap, cupping my face in his hands, and leaves a trail of kisses from my temple down to my chin, until he finds my lips and covers them whole with his.

“Nothing about what happened tonight was your fault, Quinn,” he whispers. “Nothing.”

I suck in a ragged breath and squeeze my eyelids shut. He kisses them too.

“I want you to hold me.”

His arms are wrapped around me tightly. “I am holding you.”

I open my eyes again and meet his gaze. “No. Not like this. I want to feel you. The weight of your body on mine. The warmth of your skin. I want it all. I need it. Please.”

Riker doesn’t say anything. He just turns the key in the ignition and shifts into drive, pulling the truck back onto the road while I stay where I am, my head resting on his chest, listening to the calming beat of his heart all the way back to his place.

Once inside, neither of us says anything as he unzips my dress and lets it fall to the ground, where I step out of it on my way to his bed. I lie back onto the mattress while he takes off my shoes and removes his own clothes.

It’s the first time we’ve ever undressed without any sense of urgency. Without a basic need for one another. Now the need is one sided. I need him. And he pities me. That maybe hurts worse than anything else that happened tonight. Even if Carson didn’t get what he wanted, he still succeeded in taking something from me.

---