“Quinton,” Julian growled angrily. “Jesus Christ. Take a minute and think about what you’re saying to her. It should be worded better than that. You’re going to hurt her feelings and make her think there’s something wrong with her when thereis not.”

“That is not what I meant,” Quinton snapped at Julian. “And you damn well know it.”

“What?” I asked in confusion.

Quinton looked me in the eye and growled, “There’s nothing wrong with you, baby. Why would you think there’s something wrong with you? When have I ever made you feel like there was something wrong with you?”

He shook his head and started to pace the room.

Umm… Say what? He just told me he thought there was something wrong with my face. And now he changes his tune? Why, because Julian was here to witness whatever this was? Quinton wasn’t making any sense. Maybe he should go lay down for a bit, then we could talk about it. Maybe after a nap he would start to make some sense. Doubtful.

I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him as he continued to pace. I thought about asking Julian what was going on but thought better of it. I didn’t need to drag Julian down with Quinton and me; he didn’t deserve that.

Quinton stopped pacing abruptly and angrily jerked his hand in my direction, towards my face.

“That,” he pointed at my cheek and snarled, “is going to leave a scar on you, and it’s my fault.” He made a fist with one of his hands and thumped it against his chest twice. “All my fault. And it is driving me fucking insane.”

I shook my head. “What are you talking about, Quinton? You didn’t cut open my face. And, who cares if it leaves a scar? I don’t.” I shrugged casually. “What’s one more?”

And I meant that.

My body already had quite a few scars, one more didn’t make much of a difference. They told a story, about me and about the life I’d been forced to live so far. They didn’t mark me as a warrior, because I wasn’t that. No, they marked me as a survivor. Warriors ran into battle with a mighty roar before they cut down every person who came at them. I wasn’t anything like that. Fighting back wasn’t a luxury I had been afforded. Fighting back would have made things worse for me. I held strong and endured through every horror thrown my way. And I did not break. I might have wilted a little around the edges and skirted on the brink of depression, but I wasn’t anywhere near the level of being broken. And I likely never would be.

In the grand scheme of things, what was one more scar, even if it was on my face? It simply added to my story, the story of my survival. Who knew, maybe it would make me look like a badass, and after getting a good look at my face people would think twice before messing with me. There was always a bright side to everything, not that I could always see it.

“What are you talking about?” Quinton gaped at me. “Of course it matters. Because of me, you’re going to be scarred for life. Every single person in this entire household is going to think about it every time they look at your pretty face. They are going to look at you and think about how big of an asshole I am, and they are going to blame me and a small part of them is going to hate me. And it’s not like I can blame them, because they’ll be right to hate me for it.”

“You’re crazy,” I said. “No one is going to hate you and none of this is your fault.” I slammed my hands down on my hips and shook my head in disbelief. “Is this why you have been sleeping… well, not sleeping, but sitting up outside of my bedroom here? Because you feel guilty? What happened with Chucky is not your fault. You didn’t show up at Dash’s house acting crazy. You didn’t freak out on Dash and get all jealous and psycho because you thought I was sleeping with Dash. And, you certainly didn’t stab our boy or cut up my face. Chucky did those things, Quint, not you. Yeah, I know you did messed up things to him, how could I forget. I thought the whole vomiting blood all over during lunch was bad but the whole love potion thing was absolutely, downright terrifying. You did those things, and when you did them you did it for the right reasons. You were looking out for the people you care about. I love the way you are with the people you care about. I think you’re amazing. Scary, but amazing.”

I certainly had the scary part right.

He bit his bottom lip as his eyes roamed over my face, searching for traces of sincerity. I kept my eyes on him and my face blank. The blush that without a doubt hit my cheeks I could do nothing about. I had nothing to be embarrassed about. But, for some reason, I was uncomfortable with him knowing I found him to be amazing. This was the reason behind the blush.

Feeling exposed, I dropped my hands from my hips and wrapped my arms around my middle.

As amazing as I thought Quint was when it came to taking care of the people he considered his family, there was still more to be said.

“I have to be honest with you, though. I don’t want there to be secrets between us, especially you and me. We don’t need any more drama, and we don’t need the potential problems secrets and lies could cause us. So, I’m going to keep things real and honest between us, and I would like it if you could do the same for me.” I paused to draw in an unsteady breath. I continued speaking at his nod. Though, I was incredibly nervous about what I had to say to him.

“It’s true, and I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t blame you and didn’t expect anyone else to. I don’t blame you for what Chucky did to Dash, and I certainly don’t blame you for what he did to me. But, I think your actions are partially the reason why he did what he did. Without the things you did to him, do I think he would have showed at Dash’s wielding a freaking knife? I don’t know because he wasn’t exactly a normal, stable guy to begin with. I mean, he tripped me in front of an entire classroom full of kids, laughed at me as I hit the ground and then proceeded to call me a freak show. The next day? He wanted to be my partner in class and date me outside of it. He also tried to blackmail me into dating him by telling me he’d beat up whoever had marked my face if I would go on a date with him. Like I said, he wasn’t a stable, normal guy; clearly, he had issues. But I think what you did to him, with your magic, was the catalyst. Then again, he might have gone mental all on his own without the push from you. The thing that does matter here, though? We are never going to know what pushed his buttons and made him do what he did. The fact is, Chucky did the things he did,Chuckydid them. Not you. Not me. Not anyone who isn’t Chucky. I don’t think we should focus on the reasons why he did what he did. You can’t turn back time and make it so it never happened. I can’t, either. It’s done, it’s over with. Life goes on and we are moving forward with it. Dwelling on the how or why’s is only going to mess us up more than we already are messed up. I’m going to be just fine. Yeah, I’m going to have a bit of a scar on my face. That doesn’t matter to me. Dash is going to heal up nicely. Do you think Dash blames you for what happened? I don’t think so.”

I shook my head. I felt like there was a whole lot more to be said to him, but I didn’t actually want to say it to him because it wouldn’t come out of my mouth the same way it sounded inside of my head. And, I was drained, exhausted both emotionally and physically. I needed sleep, and I seriously needed to shut off my brain. Close up shop and lights out, all that business.

Quinton looked like he should be right there with me. When was the last time he’d slept?

“Ariel,” Quinton murmured my name as I heard the door close behind me. It seemed Julian felt it safe to leave the two of us alone.

Quinton let out a deep sigh as his shoulders slumped forward in defeat. Either it was defeat or exhaustion, at this point I couldn’t tell the difference.

“Let’s go eat breakfast,” Quinton said in a low voice.

I wanted to scream at him but was too tired myself to fight at the moment. He clearly was done talking and wasn’t interested in acknowledging anything I had said to him. And it was highly likely he was not going to digest my words, really take them in and hear them. Quinton’s misplaced guilt wasn’t going anywhere, no matter what I said to him. Maybe I needed to talk to Dash, and I could get him to have a word with Quint. Maybe that would help. If it didn’t, I could always talk to Julian and get his opinion, see if he knew how to help Quinton. The two of them seemed like they were close.

I shook off my thoughts and focused on the man standing before me.

“Are you even hungry?” I asked him in a quiet, soft voice. “Because food doesn’t sound good to me right now. I think if I eat something, there’s a good chance I will be sick to my stomach. My body feels old and sluggish. What I really need is not food, it’s twelve hours of sleep, two pots of coffee, and a burning hot shower.”

After all that, then I might be able to entertain the idea of eating something. I hadn’t had much of an appetite since the hospital. I had been forcing myself to eat a little in front of the others. because they nagged me when I didn’t want to eat. I knew they only did it out of concern for me. They had too much to worry about to begin with, so I ate when they wanted me to. I didn’t want to add to their problems.