Secret

CHAPTER 8

Quinn stretched her leg against a tree and shivered. She slid her fingers across the face of her iPod, looking for a playlist to suit her mood. The strip mall parking lot was tempting, but off limits thanks to that dickhead Tyler. The lot looked empty under the halogen lights, but that didn’t mean anything. She’d stay right here at the edge of these woods, where she could see without being seen.

She didn’t have any transportation, so it wasn’t like she could go anywhere else. Her brother was out tonight—but her mom wasn’t.

Quinn was waiting her out. She could sneak back into the house after midnight. Her mom usually wasn’t conscious that long.

She’d hoped Nick would want to go out tonight, but he’d mentioned he was meeting Adam to “study”—sure—and Quinn didn’t want to get in the middle of that.

She wondered if he was avoiding her after that stupid, stupid kiss. She blushed now, remembering. What had she been thinking?

You were thinking that he was really your boyfriend, instead of a pretend one.

Her phone chimed. She checked it. Becca.

Please. Talk to me. I’m sorry.

Quinn rolled her eyes and shoved the phone into her bag.

A branch snapped somewhere off to her right, and she froze, her eyes searching the darkness.

Nothing. Whatever.

She found Adam’s audition song, melodic R&B with a driving beat.

Then she threw herself into the routine.

The ground was uneven here, and she had to watch out for branches, but she had sound in her ears and cold air on her skin. One of her favorite things about dance was that she could do it anywhere.

Her body was getting stronger from working with Adam, but she still had miles to go before she’d reach his level. Her turns needed more balance, and she still missed the beat in the more complicated moves. When Adam had first asked her to be his partner for his audition piece, she’d been ready to laugh it off. She had no real professional training, no expensive dance clothes or private instructors or anything to bring to the table other than raw talent. But even after he’d convinced her, she hadn’t been ready for his work ethic. His intensity.

Adam wasn’t fucking around. He wanted this scholarship.

And the stronger Quinn got, the more she realized she wanted him to get it, too. She didn’t want to let him down.

She wanted to accomplish something, for once in her life.

She spun too fast and landed hard, stumbling. Damn. She used the slider on her iPod to back the song up a bit, then launched herself into motion.

The stars whirled above her, bearing witness to her dance. She wished Nick were here to feed power into the air. She could feel it when he did that now, driving energy into the music until she couldn’t help leaping higher and moving with every beat. She tried to find that same energy now, without him, but the woods were empty, the wind’s only power the ability to keep her cold.

Wham. Something slammed into her, and the music died instantly. Quinn hit the ground before she realized she was falling.

Then the earbuds were yanked free of her ears, something snapped at her waistband, and footsteps were tearing away through the underbrush.

Wtf?

Then she got it.

“Come back here!” she screamed, running after the thief. She’d saved every penny for months to buy that iPod. “Stop! Stop!”

Her assailant had a pretty good head start. This had to be a guy, from the size and the way he moved. He bolted into the street without looking. Quinn followed.

A horn blared and she stumbled. Headlights filled her eyes, tires screeched, but the impact never came. Quinn made it to the curb and kept running, tearing across the parking lot of the strip mall.

“Thief!” she shouted. “Somebody stop him!”

Somebody. Like there was anyone out here.

He was getting away, gaining ground. The farthest part of the strip mall was pitch-black now, dark store fronts featuring a pediatric dentist’s office and an eyewear shop. Beyond that, more woods. If he made it past the edge of the shops and into the trees, she’d never catch him.

“Stop, you asshole!”

Oh, who was she kidding? She was never going to catch this guy. He was twenty feet from the curb leading to the woods. She was at least fifty and her lungs were burning.

But then, as he neared the corner, a figure stepped out of the shadowed walkway and knocked him flat. Just pow! a solid strike and the thief hit the ground. Flat on his back. She could hear him moaning from here.

“Yeah!” Quinn cried. Mr. Big Fists was getting a kiss for this. With tongue.

But then her savior pulled out a gun. He pointed it at the thief and cocked the hammer.

Quinn skidded to a stop. “Holy shit.”

A step forward brought the gunman into the light. Short blond hair, fierce expression. Tyler.

The guy on the ground was scrambling back. “You’re crazy, man! It’s a frigging iPod! You’re—”

“Shut up.” Tyler held a lit cigarette in his free hand. He put it to his lips and inhaled, but he didn’t lower the weapon. “Give it back to her.”

The thief—thin and filthy and not much older than she was—shoved her iPod across the concrete. He’d probably scraped the crap out of the case.

She didn’t move to take it. She couldn’t take her eyes off that gun. Her breathing felt too quick.

She should be running now, right? Saying thank you? What the hell was happening here?

Tyler jerked his head toward the road. “Get out of here, punk.” When the thief didn’t move fast enough, Tyler made a threatening move. The kid fought for his footing and ran, his feet scraping pavement.

Quinn kind of wished she could swipe the iPod and tiptoe away.

Tyler slid the gun into a holster at the small of his back and took a long drag from his cigarette. “You going to take that or what?”

Her iPod was on the ground right in front of his boots, and Quinn really didn’t want to get that close. She remembered the burning pain of his palm on her forearm. She remembered Nick telling her that Tyler had roughed up Becca.

Then again, Becca sure hadn’t thought he was scary enough to warrant telling Quinn about it.

“Come on,” said Tyler, a dark smile on his lips. “If you don’t have music, I can’t enjoy the free show anymore.”

“What does that mean?”

His eyes flicked at the woods across the street.

Screw him. She turned her back and started walking. “Go to hell.”

“I think maybe a thank-you is in order.”

“I think maybe a fuck you is in—”

“Would you take the stupid iPod?”

She whirled, hearing him right behind her. He was closer than she was ready for, and her breath rushed out of her chest.

In his hand was her beat-up iPod.

She hesitated, then took it. She wanted to fling it at him, but pride wilted in the face of practicality. It would take her forever to gather enough money to get another one. The case was scratched but unbroken, and the screen lit up when she pressed the button.

He didn’t move back, and she finally had to, lest he think she liked being this close to him.

Tyler took another draw on his cigarette. The glow lit his cheeks and turned his eyes haunting. “Scared of me, baby girl?”

“Are you aware you sound like a douche bag?”

He laughed, blowing smoke through his nose. “Where’s your boyfriend?”

“None of your business. Have another cigarette?”

His eyebrows went up. “You want one?”

No. She didn’t. She’d only ever smoked once. But she had nowhere else to go and nothing else to do and she needed something to do with her hands before they started shaking.

She gave Tyler a look. “Yeah. You have one or not?”

He pulled a pack from his back pocket and shook one free. “Do you have a lighter?”

“No. Don’t you?”

He gave her half a smile, then put the new cigarette to his lips. He inhaled slowly, and after a moment the end glowed red and burned. A fresh burst of nicotine hit the air. Then he pulled it out of his mouth and held it out to her.

Quinn stared despite herself. “Gross.”

And somehow a little sexy, but she’d put his gun to her head before admitting that.

He cocked an eyebrow. “You were sitting next to a Dumpster last night, and now you’re afraid of a little spit. Jesus. You want it or not?”

His voice was full of derision, but challenge, too. Scared of me, baby girl?

She took the cigarette out of his hand and put it to her lips. For a second she was worried she’d do the moronic thing and explode with coughing, but she inhaled slowly, letting the warmth travel into her lungs. She expected it to taste nasty, but it didn’t.

“Why are you out here with a gun?” she asked, easing the smoke out. “Isn’t that against some law?”

He looked vaguely affronted. “I have a permit, and I’m protecting my property. No, it’s not against some law.”

“This strip mall is yours. Seriously. And you have all this money and nothing better to do than wander around dark parking lots pointing guns at petty thieves? Yeah, okay.”

“This strip mall belongs to my parents,” he said, taking another long inhale on his cigarette. Smoke curled away from him into the night sky. “And we’ve been having a problem with vandals, so I’ve been hanging out the last few nights.”

“Gee, I’m so sorry for you.”

“You’ve kinda got a chip on your shoulder, huh?”

Yeah, the size of Rhode Island. Quinn flicked ash from the end of her cigarette and didn’t respond. She hadn’t inhaled again, and it was just burning away between her fingers.

“What were you dancing to?” he asked.

The question took her by surprise, but his voice was challenging again, so she fired up the song on her iPod and held out an earbud.

He listened for a long moment, then nodded and handed the cord back. “Nice.”

This was so bizarre. “Glad it meets with your approval.” “Why were you dancing in the woods?”

“I’m helping a friend get a scholarship.”

“Oh, yeah? Why aren’t you getting a scholarship?”

“I don’t think that’s really any of your business.”

He shrugged and backed up to lean against the steel beam supporting a roof over the walkway. He took another drag and blew out smoke rings. “My sister was a dancer.”

His sister. Nick had told her Tyler’s sister had died in the rock quarry years ago.

“A singer, too,” said Tyler. “She was always on my parents to let her move to New York after graduation.”

Quinn wanted to snap at him, something like, So she couldn’t wait to get away from you, either? But his voice held this odd note that she couldn’t identify. Not quite sadness, but something close. Resignation, maybe. She didn’t want to mock it.

“Full of piss and vinegar,” Tyler said. “She’d probably laugh her ass off to hear you talk to me now.”

“I’d probably like her.”

“Maybe.” He crushed out the end of his cigarette and glanced down at hers, hanging abandoned in her hand. “You going to let that burn away to nothing?”

She quickly took another draw. Too fast. Smoke flooded her lungs and she choked hard, fighting for air.

“Sit,” said Tyler, plucking the cigarette from her fingers.

“Breathe.”

She sat and tried to inhale while tears streamed from her eyes. He dropped onto the curb beside her.

“All talk,” he said. “Should’ve guessed.” Then he took up her cigarette and smoked it himself.

Quinn stared at him, confused by this sudden intimacy.

“Seriously,” he said suddenly. “What’s with the lurking behind the 7-Eleven last night?”

She shrugged and looked out at the dark parking lot. “Homeless?” he asked, his voice matter-of-fact.

“No,” she snapped.

“Do those Merrick morons know you’re out here?”

Those “Merrick morons” probably thought she was out with Nick. “What do you care?”

“So that’s a no.” He snorted, blowing smoke. “Not surprised that one of those idiots can’t take care of a girlfriend.”

Like Tyler could? “I bet they’ll be disappointed they don’t live up to your standards.”

His voice turned dark. “They know what I think of them.”

“No kidding.” She held up her arm. “I got a firsthand demonstration, you asshole.”

He rounded on her so fast that Quinn almost fell back on the step. He was right in her space. “You think you know what you’re talking about? You don’t know shit. You have no idea what they’ve done to me.”

Quinn punched him in the chest, giving him a solid shove. “Maybe they did, but I never did anything to you. Back off.” When he didn’t move, she put her face almost against his and reinforced her voice with steel girders. “Back. Off.”

He held her there, probably trying to use his size or his attitude to intimidate her. Like he had anything on her home life. She stared back at him, waiting.

He finally shifted forward and put the cigarette to his lips again.

“They killed my sister,” he said quietly.

No way was he buying her pity from a sob story she’d already heard. “Nick told me you chased her and Michael into the quarry.”

“He’s a fucking Earth. How the hell do you think that rockslide started?”

She stared into the face of his obvious fury and gave him the only answer she had. “I don’t know. I wasn’t there.”

Tyler seemed to deflate. He crushed out the rest of his cigarette and looked out at the night, rubbing a hand across the back of his head.

Then he looked over. “You hungry?”

Yes. She was starving. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Why?”

“Because I think you’re a psychopath.”

He laughed softly. “I was going to get some taquitos from 7-Eleven. Want some?”

Quinn thought about it. If she said no, it might be hours before she’d get the chance to eat. And what was the difference between smoking with Tyler and eating with him? At least if she was with him, no one was trying to steal her stuff.

Sad that her life had devolved into choosing between lesser evils.

Her cell phone chimed again. Nick this time.

You ok?

She thought about it.

All OK. Have fun with your boyfriend. xoxo

“Taquitos sound great,” said Quinn. She climbed to her feet. “I like mine extra spicy.”