Big Girls Get the Blues (3 page)

Holy hell, how had this gone so freaking bad so quick
ly
?

Wait a minute…

“How do you know who he is?”
I shot at my father, feeling my own ire welling up inside me.

“From Teddy,” he said, taking a step closer to Quinn, and not sparing me even a glance.

“Teddy!  How the hell do you know Teddy?”

He shot me a look that said
Please…

“You’ve worked for the man for five years.  You think I wouldn’t check the place out…or the man that signs your
pay
checks?”

“Now wait a goddamn minute!”

Quinn stood up just then and squared his shoulders as he regarded my father.  Quinn was nearly six inches tall
er
than my dad, and out-weighed him by over twenty pound.  But my father was what you’d call a bruiser.  He just exuded menace…at least, that’s what he was exuding as he glared like a pit-bull at Quinn.

“I didn’t mean to make anyone quit,” Quinn said in a reasonable voice.  “And I don’t regret what transpired between us.”

I saw my dad’s shoulders tighten and I could literally hear the knuckles in his hands crackle as he balled them up into fists.

“And it’s not like I left.  She threw me out and called the cops.”

I turned and looked Quinn straight in the eyes.  He looked like he wasn’t lying.  So that was why he’d left.  Mrs. Scattergoods had really called the police, and they’d escorted him
away from my apartment.

I took a breath to say something, but I was cut off by the blur of my father’s arm snapping out and punching Quinn in the face.
  It was a damn good punch, and Quinn fell back against the bar, and then held his face for a beat. 

He was holding his hand over his eye.

Well hell…

I dashed around the bar.

“Dad, no!” I cried out as I threw myself into him, grabbing his arm before he could pullback and throw another punch.  “I’m fine.
  I’m freaking fine!”

Dad looked at me and I could tell he didn’t believe me.  But he backed off, straightened his jacket and then turned to leave the bar.  But first he turned and gave Quinn a hard, long look. 

“Don’t be causing my daughter anymore problems…or you’ll have to deal with me.  You hear?”

“Loud and clear,” Quinn said, and my father exited the bar.

“Sit down,” I told Quinn as I ran back behind the bar and grabbed a clean bar towel and loaded it up with some ice.

Quinn sat back on his stool and took a long swig of his drink.  I leaned over the bar and pressed the make-shift ice pack against his reddening eye.  It looked swollen too. 

“Hold that,” I said and started refilling drinks, trying to sweep the little fight under the rug.  But I saw that Vince was standing back towards the office.  He’d see the whole thing.

To my surprise, Quinn obeyed me, staying sat and holding the icepack to his eye.

It was late, and within a few minutes I was calling last call, settling tabs and clearing dirty glasses. 

Quinn sat there, holding the icepack, but keeping his one open eye on me.  It made me nervous, in a bad and in a good way.  God, just being around the guy was exhausting.  Quinn didn’t say anything, but he was the last customer to leave.  He left the ice pack and a hefty tip.  But I was almost certain he would be out in the parking lot, waiting for me.

I sighed as the door closed behind him, and then I pulled the till, gathered my slips and headed back to where I knew Vince’s office was.  He was waiting on me, and though he didn’t look pissed, he did look bothered.

“You did a great job tonight,” he said.

“But?” I knew there was a
“
but
”
coming.

“But you were the reason behind that fight tonight.”  I couldn’t argue that.  “And this was just your first night.  We haven’t had a punch thrown in here in over ten years.  This is a quiet, safe bar where veterans get to talk to their own and have a drink.”

“I understand,” I said, feeling humiliated that not only had I been the cause of a bar fight, but that it had been my father to start it.  I could have cried thinking how humiliated he must be.  I’d ruined his sanctuary from the stresses of life.  And he’d pulled a lot of favors to get me the job in the first place.

That’s me, best daughter in the world material.

“You want me to walk you out to your car?” His gaze met mine and I saw he understood things a little better than I would have liked.  Probably better than I did.  “He’s probably waiting for you outside.”

“I know,” I said and turned to walk out.  “I’ll be fine.”  I looked back to him.  He was shorter than me, even out of my heels, and he was built spare and thin, but I could tell he had a will and a spine of iron.

“I’m sorry for tonight.  I hope you’ll blame me and not my father.”

He blinked at me and shook his head.  He actually was smiling, his dimples just as adorable as they were the first time I’d seen him smile.  “Don’t worry, I blame you completely.”

I laughed, and so did he.  Our laughs sounded good together.  I gave him a little wave and headed out to the bar again, grabbing my jacket and my purse and went out the front door.

*****

Quinn was waiting for me, as Vince and I had both predicted, and I felt wary and strangely excited at that.  He’d waited for me.  He’d let my dad punch him in the eye
.  H
e’d sat in humiliation until we’d closed, and now he was waiting for me to talk to him.

If I didn’t already know how this all was going to end, if I had any real hope that things might actually work out between us, I might have le
t
the moment overtake me.  I might have flung myself into his arms and begged him to ravish me on the spot—maybe on the hood of my GTO.

But I knew for a fact that if I gave him even a fraction of my heart I’d get it back bloodied and tortured.  And I couldn’t live through another bad romance, another broken, bleeding heart.  I’d been in love with a man I’d thought I’d be with forever—

Funny how you can start thinking in terms as ridiculous as “forever” so soon after meeting someone.  Love was the worst drug.  And I would not be its bitch ever again.

I had a flash of a handsome, cruel face in my mind’s eye, and I could hear myself saying his name.  I shook my head and willed the memories to return to the dark little corner of my mind I kept them sequestered in. 

Maybe I’d have to lock them in a box?  Maybe soon I’d have to lock memories of Quinn in a box too.

He was leaning his sexy, denim-clad ass on the hood of my GTO—which would have been a crime if his ass hadn’t been so fantastic—and he looked up at me when
I
walked closer.  His eye was swollen and starting to turn a light purple.

“You’re going to have a hell of a shiner tomorrow.”

Quinn smiled and winced as his eye protested him making any expression.  “It’s worth it if it gets you talking to me.”

I rolled my eyes at him.  When in doubt and feeling a little too intense about a guy, go for sarcasm.  “One black eye earns you five minutes.”

“Then I should have had your dad punch me in the other eye too.”

I gave him a chilly smile.  “I can always call him back. 
He doesn’t live far.”

He shook his head and sighed, looking down at the pavement before looking back into my eyes.  “I think I’ll pass.”

“Afraid?”  I taunted.

“Of you using your father as a weapon, knowing I’d never fight back…let me think?  Yeah.”

“So you think I’m some sort of sociopath?”

He stood up from my GTO’s hood and towered over me.  Just having his huge physicality so close to me made my heart flutter, and things much lover shudder. 

Steady…

I wasn’t going to do this again.  Twice was enough.  Once had been too much.

Third time is
not
the charm!

“I think,” Quinn said, stepping even closer, close enough I could smell the leather and silk of him, and feel the heat rolling off his body.  “That you have some kind of mental hang up about me...or maybe men in general.”

I took a breath to argue, but he cut me off by holding up his fingers to my lips.  His thick, strong, rough fingers…

A s
hiver r
an
up my spine…
my
nipples harden
ed
…and I was ready to start hyperventilating any second.

“And you especially have a kink in your think—”
Kink in my think?
  “
—
about any man that finds you, in particularly attractive.
”

It felt like he’d just slapped me, and I staggered backward a couple steps.  Was he right?

“What is this,” I yelled, “the Doctor Phil show?”

“He’s a quack.  But I did have to take a bunch of psych courses while I was with the department…and…”

My anger evaporated as I saw the terrible, haunted look on his face.  I almost took a step closer, but I forced myself to stand perfectly still.  I needed to walk away from him, not to him.

He
looked into my eyes and all humor left his expression.  “And I went through some therapy after I was placed on leave…I’m still going.”

Whatever had happened when he was a cop must have been pretty damn bad.  I couldn’t imagine what it was…but whatever it was, it was still killing Quinn.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.  Feeling sorry for the man is one thing.  To let that feeling dictate whether you’re going to let him back in—into your life and your bed—was another.

“Cut the psycho-babble,” my voice went hard and icy.  “Speak English.”

He took a breath to speak English, but I cut him off this time by turning away and moving to the driver’s side door of my GTO. 

“On second thought, don’t speak at all.  Thanks to you and my dad, I’ve got to find another job in the morning.”

Quinn’s hand shot out and pushed my car door shut, his warm, rough hand resting on top of mine.  Feeling his flesh against my own ignited a swirling blaze inside me, making my entire body overheat in nothing flat.  My breath rushed out of me, and I felt dizzy; his hot, sweet breath blew across the back of my neck as he spoke.

“You already have a job.”

I clenched up and stamped
down
hard on the
desperate need to turn around and kiss him.  It was a hot, potent need, and it was welling up inside me ready to explode.

“I quit…remember?” 
Please go away…please…

“Teddy says you’re on the payroll until hell freezes over.”  I laughed.  That sounded just like him.  “And I’m not going to accept your resignation…I’m not going to accept anything but you coming back—” His free hand touched the back of my neck, giving me a full-body shiver, and quelling the cacophony of racing thoughts in my head.

God, it would be so easy to just let him take all my doubts and fears away.  And if he could do it with just the touch of his hand…we should never leave my bedroom again.

But
it was just temporary.  I knew he’d turn into a lying, cheating, abusive asshole sooner or later—men that actively sought out women that looked like me were all the same.  Charming and sexy, great in bed, and then they either vanished without a trace or they became more demanding, more abusive, until…

Just then Quinn’s fingers ran across the scar I had deep on the back of my neck, up in my hairline—

And just like that I was terrified and alone, gasping for breath and bleeding, knelt on the floor, broken glass glitter
ing
from the floor all around me.  And
he
was standing over me, his belt held in a white knuckled grip, my blood smeared on the silver belt buckle—

—I spun around and pushed
Quinn
away from me, hard.  My heart was pounding
in my chest
from pure, screaming
terror. 
I hissed, “Get away from me.”

He stepped back and held up his hands.  “What did I do?”

I crammed my key in the lock
of my car
and yanked open the door, shoving myself down behind the wheel.

“Was that a scar on the back of your neck?
”

My hands were shaking as I slammed the door and struggled to get the key in the ignition.  Quinn was standing a few feet away and to the side of my car, hands still held up in surrender. 

“Please talk to me…”

I threw my car into drive and stomped on the gas, screeching tires and laying rubber as I shot away from the VFW and back to East Carson Street.  Luckily it was very late, and the streets of Pittsburgh were almost desolate.  I think I would have crashed my car if I had to maneuver through traffic too.

I flicked on my radio and turned the volume up as loud as it would go.  Bob Seger blared, singing how much he loved that old time rock and roll, and I tried to lose myself in the hard rock.  But I was scared, and I hated being scared.  I hadn’t let that feeling overwhelm me in so long—and I hated it.