Secret

CHAPTER 28

Quinn leaned against the window of Tyler’s truck and closed her eyes, content.

She’d slept all night.

She’d taken a shower unimpeded.

No social workers or cops had shown up to break down the door or whatever they did in real life.

Her younger brother had responded to texts that yes, he was fine.

And Tyler was driving her to dance.

It had been his idea for her to go.

Actually, he’d narrowed his eyes at her over toast and orange juice and said, “Aren’t you supposed to be rehearsing for some scholarship thing?”

And she’d mumbled and made excuses until he’d all but sent the text to Adam himself.

Tyler was having none of her self-pity. He kept whispering to her, seeming to know every time self-doubts crept into her head to set up camp. “You’re not worthless,” he’d murmur, when she started thinking that maybe it was her fault that her brother had started smoking crack on her bedroom floor. Or, “You are brave,” when thoughts snuck up to talk her out of ever leaving his apartment.

But her favorite was “You are special,” whispered while dropping a chaste kiss on the back of her neck, stroking her hair down her back before moving away.

After going to sleep on a declaration of wanting to kill Nick Merrick, she hadn’t realized Tyler would wake up with a mouth full of Hallmark platitudes.

She loved this side of him, this gentle, thoughtful side. She suspected he didn’t reveal it often, or to many people.

The funny thing was, if Tyler and Nick weren’t mortal enemies, she could see them becoming friends.

“What time are you going to pick me up?” she asked.

“Are you kidding?” He glanced over. “I’m planning on staying.”

“Come on,” she said. “You don’t have to do that. It’s not like you’re getting any action from m—”

Tyler put a hand over her mouth. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that. I told you before: I thought your dance was pretty good, from what I saw on the trail. I’d like to see it all put together.”

“Come on. You want to spend a few hours at a dance studio?”

“It’s been a dream of mine.” He glanced over and offered a wicked smile. “All right, brutal honesty: I brought my laptop. I have a paper due in history.”

The dance studio parking lot didn’t sport many cars; no surprise on a Saturday afternoon. This was Quinn’s favorite time to dance: when the sunlight would be warm through the windows, and energy from the morning classes would still cling to the air in the room, and she’d move as if a thousand dancers accompanied her.

Her home life seemed miles away. Right where she wanted it.

At the door she stopped and faced Tyler. “Hey,” she said quietly. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

“You’re welcome.”

She pressed her lips together for a second. “No,” she said. “All of it. Thanks for all of it.”

He winced and looked away. “Not all of it.” He paused and let his eyes find hers. “I’m sorry for some of it. For a lot of it.”

The sunlight glinted off his hair. Tall and blond and strong—he looked like the proverbial white knight. All he needed was a suit of armor.

She kept her voice low, and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “You’re special, too, Tyler. And brave. And definitely not worthless.”

His eyes widened fractionally, enough that Quinn knew she’d affected him.

“Don’t worry,” she whispered. “I’ll keep all that a secret.”

He rolled his eyes and reached for the door handle.

Then they were through the door and face to face with Nick Merrick.

Quinn sat on the polished wood floor, stretching beside the mirror, watching Adam to follow his warm-up. They didn’t have the studio to themselves yet, so they’d have to wait to use the main area of floor. She didn’t mind the extra time—two days off had left her muscles tight. She folded low, reaching for her ankle, catching sight of Nick and Tyler in the mirror. They sat across the room on the wood risers, a good six feet apart, not speaking.

Waves of hatred radiated from them both.

When they’d first walked in, Nick had told Tyler to leave.

Tyler had told Nick to go to hell.

Adam had told them both to grow up or get out. He’d done it in the same voice she’d heard him use on the six-year-olds when they got rowdy in the beginner class. Half teasing, half serious.

Nick had backed off and found a spot on the risers. He hadn’t looked happy about it then, and he looked downright furious now.

But to her surprise, Tyler had apologized to Adam, shaking his hand before finding his own place to sit and watch.

Adam switched legs and Quinn snapped back to the task at hand. She moved to mirror his motion.

“How long do you think we have before they kill each other?” Adam said under his breath.

His voice was easy, casual. She was glad—a small part of her had worried that he’d hold her recent no-shows against her.

“Nick hates him,” Quinn said. She hadn’t realized Nick would be here at all or she would’ve told Tyler to go elsewhere. She felt like she was straddling this ravine between taking joy in Nick’s discomfort and hating that she’d caused it.

“I can see that.” Adam paused. “He was really worried that you were dating him.”

“We’re not—” She faltered. Were she and Tyler dating? Were they friends? “I don’t know what we’re doing.”

Adam put the soles of his feet together and folded low. “Is he being good to you?”

True concern was behind those words, another reminder that Quinn had spent too much time pushing away people who could have helped her. She nodded, thinking of Tyler’s whispered comments all morning. Then she gave Adam a wicked smile. “Is Nick being good to you?”

Adam blushed. For real.

Quinn grinned and realized there might be a reason behind Nick’s being here. “Holy crap. Did you guys spend the night together?”

“Shh!” Adam reached out and smacked her on the top of the head.

“Did you?!”

He turned it right back around on her. “Did you spend the night with Tyler?”

“Yeah, in his guest room.” She hesitated, thinking of how Tyler’s evening had gone. “He’s being a gentleman. And he didn’t have the greatest night.”

“Neither did Nick. He came out to his brother and got punched in the face.”

Quinn sat up straight. She glanced at Nick and lost every ounce of vindictive joy. Now she wanted to kill his twin brother. “Gabriel hit him?” she whispered. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. He didn’t want to go home.”

Quinn couldn’t blame him. “I wish I’d known,” she said. “I wish he’d called me.”

Then the irony of her own words smacked her in the face. Nick would probably be saying the same thing about her problems, if he knew.

She glanced across at where Nick and Tyler were sitting. They didn’t seem to be speaking. Had Tyler moved closer? She couldn’t tell. Nick almost vibrated with angry tension.

“I think I saw the last text you sent him,” said Adam, his voice easy, his words not. “I’m pretty sure it said fuck off.”

Quinn flushed as guilt punched her in the back. “Yeah—I’m not—I didn’t—”

New stretch, hands overhead, then lowering to reach for outstretched toes. “You don’t have to explain it to me.”

She didn’t follow this stretch. “I was jealous,” she said quietly.

Adam straightened and looked at her. “Of what?”

She looked away. “Of you. I guess.” She swallowed and felt tears gathering behind her eyes. “And then Nick was telling me to stay away from Tyler, and I thought it was so unfair, how he got everything and I had to just sit there and pretend to be his girlfriend, and—”

“Quinn.” Adam’s voice was low, quiet. He moved close. “Quinn, he shouldn’t have asked you to—”

“He didn’t! That’s the pathetic thing. He never asked me to. He even encouraged me to find someone else. But I didn’t want someone else. I wanted . . .”

“Him.”

Quinn nodded and looked up. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” He gave her half a smile. “I mean, I kinda get it.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“No.” He paused. “I wish you’d told me. Is that why you didn’t come to dance?”

She bit her lip. “That’s part of it.”

“What’s the other part?”

She took a deep breath until she was sure her voice wouldn’t shake. “My mother—she threw me out.”

His face fell. “I wish you’d told me that, too. You could have stayed with me.”

She wagged her eyebrows at him. “Sounds like your apartment is kind of crowded.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t joke. Are you okay? Do you have a place to stay?”

She hedged, worrying that if the wrong person overheard her, they’d call social services or something. This paranoia was ridiculous, but she’d rather sleep on a street corner than be forced into a group home or wherever they’d shove her. “I’m staying with Tyler right now. I’m just waiting out my mother.” She made her voice casual, easy. “She needs a few days to dry out is all, and she’ll forget what happened.”

Or maybe she’d throw out Jake’s trophies.

Adam was still studying her.

Quinn moved into another stretch, hoping he’d take this as a cue to change the subject. “I’m fine,” she said. “Really. I’m fine.” Motion in the mirror caught her eye. Tyler had definitely moved closer to Nick.

She’d taken Tyler at his word when he’d said Nick had picked a fight Friday night, but now, watching them, it made her wonder. Tyler had compared Nick’s abilities to a rogue lion. Had he poked the lion with a stick, just to watch it break out the fangs?

With a flash of guilt, she remembered Nick’s fear in his driveway. He’d hidden it under a layer of self-defense and aggression, but she’d seen it.

She was seeing it now.

Adam glanced over. “Nick said their families are fighting.” “He told you that?”

A nod. “That’s why he didn’t want you seeing Tyler.”

“That’s not all of it,” she said. “I think Tyler used to beat the shit out of him when he was younger.”

Adam froze. “He didn’t tell me that.”

“He barely told me. I had to drag it out of him. I almost didn’t believe him. I mean, you look at Nick and you’d think anyone would be an idiot to pick a fight with him, but—”

“It doesn’t matter what it looks like,” Adam snapped. “All that matters is what it really is.”

“I know,” she said quietly. She hesitated. “Tyler isn’t a bad guy, either, Adam.”

Adam glanced at where Nick and Tyler were sitting. “I hope you’re right, Quinn. I really hope you’re right.”

Nick wondered if he could suffocate Tyler right here and get away with it.

At least it would make this douche bag shut up.

“Your boyfriend looks pissed,” Tyler whispered, his voice so low that Nick wouldn’t have heard him if the air weren’t so willing to carry the words to his ears. “Think he’s jealous?”

Nick didn’t respond. The rest of the studio had cleared out, and they had the risers to themselves. Adam and Quinn were dancing now, their movements full of passion and strength. But Tyler was right: Adam did look pissed every time he glanced at where they were sitting.

He couldn’t possibly be jealous of Tyler. Right?

But why else would he be pissed off? Had Quinn said something? What?

Nick hated that this dickhead was sitting here putting thoughts in his head.

Part of him wanted to leave. He could sit outside, or even take the bus back to Adam’s. Hell, he could take the bus home if he needed to—Adam had explained the line and given him a bus schedule, telling him which spot would drop him off closest to Chautauga if he really needed to help his brothers with a job.

But he’d finally broken and called home before coming here, hoping he’d get someone other than Gabriel.

By luck—or his twin’s calculated avoidance, he wasn’t sure which—Michael had answered the phone. Chris had agreed to work for Nick today. Hunter had already been planning on going with Becca to visit her father. Gabriel would be home alone with a pile of textbooks.

Pretty much a guarantee that Nick wouldn’t be getting on a bus anytime soon.

Then again, sitting next to Tyler was quite possibly the only thing worse than facing his twin again.

Tyler shifted closer. “No wonder you could never fight back. I didn’t realize Gabriel Merrick had a twin sister—”

“Shut up,” Nick said.

“Or what? You’ll huff and you’ll puff and you’ll blow this place down? Or do you only know how to blow—”

“Shut up.” Nick glared at him and didn’t bother keeping his voice down. “Fuck you, Tyler. You might have Quinn fooled, but I know what you’ve done. Michael might give you a free pass because you lost your sister and he feels some shred of responsibility for it, but—”

“Don’t you dare talk about my sister.”

“You think losing someone gives you a free pass to be a raging asshole? It doesn’t. You’re not the only person who knows loss.”

He’d hit a nerve. Tyler was breathing heavily now, his fists clenched. “Shut up, Merrick.”

“No, you shut up. You want to hate us because of what we are? Fine. Hate us. Punch me, burn me, call the Guides, whatever. But I know the truth. I know what you are. I know what you can do.”

“You don’t know anything.”

Nick knew Tyler was a breath away from snapping, but he couldn’t stop. Standing up to Gabriel had changed something in him. For the better, for the worse, he had no idea. But just like Adam poking him in the side this morning, demanding to know what Nick wanted, Tyler’s presence was like a constant jab, over and over again.

And Nick wanted. It. To stop.

He leaned forward, holding Tyler’s gaze. “I know you’re probably scared to death that the wrong person is going to find out you’re just as cursed as the big, bad Merricks. Guess it’d be pretty hard to cry to Mommy and Daddy, then, huh? Or do you think they’d pull the trigger themselves? God knows they’ve been dying to do it to us for years.”

“I’ve never killed anyone,” Tyler hissed.

“How do we know?” said Nick. “It’s not like you don’t spend every waking moment consumed by hate. God, for all we know, you could have been behind the fire at Seth Ramsey’s—” Nick broke off and stopped short. “Holy shit.”

The fire at Seth Ramsey’s. Five years ago. It had killed Seth’s parents.

And Nick’s.

“Shut up!” Tyler yelled. His eyes were wide and panicked, his expression fierce. “Shut the fuck up, Merrick. I didn’t start that fire.”

Nick almost couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t even identify this emotion. Rage. Bewilderment. Shock. Sorrow, all over again. “It was you. You started it. Not Gabriel.”

“Wrong,” said Tyler. He was shaking his head fiercely. “Wrong.”

“I’m not wrong. It was you.”

“It was both of us,” he cried. “Don’t you get it? Just like last night. It was both.”

Nick stared at him.

Tyler climbed down from the risers. He headed for the door.

Quinn and Adam had gone still in the middle of the dance floor. Nick had no idea how long they’d been watching.

Quinn glanced between Nick and Tyler, and finally ran after Tyler. The front door to the studio slammed.

It left Nick reeling, unsure where his emotions wanted to settle.

He was very aware of Adam’s eyes still on him.

Nick looked at him. He couldn’t speak. He wasn’t sure what he would say.

“So,” Adam said. His expression was some amalgamation of curiosity, pity, and resignation. “More secrets, huh?”