Page 19 of The Truths We Seek

“Time for what?” I ask, moving so I’m sitting up, pulling my knees up against my chest, hot chocolate balanced on top of them.

“Quinn, we need to talk.” Meyer leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees as his hair falls into his eyes. His tone is enough to tell me that whatever it is we need to talk about, I’m going to hate it.

Oh, God.

Hunter.

He was fine when I was there earlier… but anything could have happened.

I think I’m going to be sick.

The tension in here is so thick, my peace is long gone and I feel like the warm air is suffocating me.

Gripping my mug to stop my hands from shaking, I look at Rory, who is a blank slate, before turning my gaze back to Meyer. Pushing all of the softer parts of myself back into their box to keep them safe, I lock up my heart as I let myself go numb to try and steel myself against whatever it is he needs to say. I feel my face lock down as the emotion drains from me. “Just tell me.”

He waits a beat, assessing me, and I know he sees as I shut down. The flash of panic in his eyes, the flare of his nostrils, the way he sits back up, becoming the man I met what feels like a lifetime ago back in that warehouse when a man lay bleeding out between us.

He nods, his eyes never leaving mine. He presses his lips together and takes a deep breath before speaking, giving me one last moment to try and prepare myself for whatever it is he’s going to say.

“Tommy is dead.”

For a second, the words don’t register, and I bark a laugh. One harsh, cold sound as my heart obliterates.

Then the words sink in and that laugh feels like it’s choking me as the bottom falls out of my world.

I don’t think they can see. I haven’t moved, not on the outside, but inside… any protection I thought I had is laughable.

Every piece of me shatters as his words loop in my head.

Tommy is dead.

I already feared as much, but I had dared to hope.

Dared to wish that my gut was wrong.

Hoped beyond everything that he was just busy.

Foolish, childish hope because I knew that if something wasn’t wrong, if he wasn’t just busy, there’s no way he wouldn’t have fought his way to be here when I woke up.

He never would have left me alone.

“What happened?” The words are empty and hollow. I don’t even sound like myself, but that’s not surprising.

The version of me that they knew only existed because of Tommy.

And he’s gone.

I already know it’s my fault. That this is because of Trent, even before they tell me. But I need them to confirm it.

“Quinn.” Rory starts, his voice softer than Meyer’s. He reaches for me, but I flinch away, despite the fact that he was nowhere near touching me, and hurt flickers in his eyes as he pulls back. “I’m sorry. For all of this. You don’t need to know the—”

“I do need to know,” I say, cutting him off. My voice breaks as I speak and I close my eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to stop my devastation from taking over my body, but I feel my throat growing thick as tears well in my eyes.

Blinking back the tears as best as I can, I say, “Tell me. Please.”

My voice cracks on the please but I move my gaze back to Meyer, who has transformed from the cold businessman back to the man who has comforted me, cared for me, maybe even loved me. He moves across the room to crouch beside me and grabs my chin, turning me to face him. “This was not your fault, Quinn. What happened to Tommy…”

“What. Happened?” I ask again, tears slipping down my cheeks unchecked. Usually, I’d wipe them away, try to hide them, but there’s nothing to hide right now. Trying to shut down didn’t work and they can see all of my broken pieces laid out before them.

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