A Right to Remain Read online

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “Fine,” he muttered, removing his free hand from his homemade tourniquet to pick up the tequila bottle sitting by his side. He brought the bottle up to his mouth and took a swig, and I could feel my own throat burning just imagining how that felt going down.

  I nodded and began to make my way back to the house when something made me stop once again and ask, “Do you need a first aid kit? I have some gauze you can wrap that in, instead of that dirty old towel.” I knew I should have kept on walking, but for a brief moment when I saw that blood soaked towel, I was filled with memories of wishing someone had been around to help out Aaron when he’d needed it. He didn’t respond, staring straight ahead, taking another chug of his tequila. Without even thinking, I placed my bag down on the ground and walked over to his truck. “Ca-can I take a look?” I asked gently. I figured it was okay when he didn’t protest as I began to unwrap the towel to find a deep straight slice right through his hand. “I think this needs stitches,” I said, examining it closer.

  “It’s fine. I’m not going to the hospital to get stitches.”

  “Well, can I at least bandage it for you?”

  He stared at me before hopping off the tailgate. I picked up my bag and he followed me inside. After placing my grocery bag on the counter, I went right to work, placing his hand under the steady stream of cold water coming from the kitchen faucet. I went into the bathroom and grabbed the first aid kit and returned to the kitchen. His hand was still gushing with blood, and I was still fairly certain he needed stitches. Since he refused to go to the hospital, I was going to do the next best thing. I got all of the supplies I needed and lined them up on the kitchen table before laying out a towel. He stared at me with questions in his eyes when I began to rummage through my sewing kit for a needle and thread. Without saying a word, I found the pack of matches sitting by the candle on the mantle, striking one up. I held it on the edge of the needle before wiping it down thoroughly with rubbing alcohol.

  “What are you doing with that?” he finally spoke.

  “You need stitches. So, you can go to the ER and get them there, or I can do it real quick now.”

  He shook his head and began to back away. “Umm…no offense, but I think I’d rather take my chances bleeding to death.”

  A small smile broke on my face. Something that didn’t happened too often these days. “I know what I’m doing. My grandmother used to give me homemade stitches all the time when I was younger.” I lifted my arm to show him the scar from when I’d fallen off my bike. “See, and I’m still alive.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to numb it or something?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m sure another swig of that tequila may help a little with the pain.” He stood there in silence, looking like he was having an internal battle with himself. When he held out his injured hand freely to me, I knew I’d won. I finished up with all of the prep work and was ready to start the sewing. Before I started, I handed him the tequila bottle and got that same burning feeling in the back of my throat when he swallowed a swig down with ease. “Ready?” I asked.

  He nodded, flinching ever so slightly as the needle pierced his skin. I finished up with four stitches and held his hand in mine for a moment, admiring my medical work. “How did this happen, anyway?” I asked.

  “I was cutting my fishing line and the knife slipped.” He looked down at his hand, examining the stitches closely.

  “Well, you’re all better now. Just keep it wrapped up when you take a shower. You don’t want to get it wet.”

  “Thanks.” His deep blue eyes pierced mine with his intense stare.

  “Welcome,” I replied, clearing my throat, immediately tending to my bag of groceries. My back was to him, but I could still feel his eyes cast upon me.

  “Guess I’ll see you around.”

  I swiveled around only to find myself face to face with him. There was no doubt he was nice looking. Broad shoulders, razor stubble face, dark wavy hair and mysterious deep blue-gray eyes. Put all those traits together to form the handsome man standing alongside me. A man most women would give a second, maybe even a third or fourth look, but I wasn’t like most women. I was damaged, and still so in love with a man I could no longer have. And no matter how handsome he was…no other man alive would ever cause me to look at them the way I looked at Aaron.

  ***

  The week flew by in the blink of an eye, and it was hard to believe I’d be starting my teaching job in just two more days. I was nervous and excited at the same time. I had my degree in elementary education and had taught first grade back at home for five years. I was looking forward to being around little ones again. They put a smile on my face. I found they were not only learning from me, but I would learn something new from them each day as well. It would be my first time back in the classroom since my world crumbled two years ago, and I was hoping this was the next step in bringing some type of normality back to my life.

  I was just finishing my walk with Gus when Quinn came pulling in the driveway with his radio blasting. I hadn’t seen him since the day he’d injured his hand. He kept strange hours, sometimes staying out all night or being gone for days at a time. I was somewhat curious if that was his lifestyle or if it had to do with his job. By the way he put the alcohol away, I would say his lifestyle was a safe bet. Even though I hadn’t a clue about what he did for a living or if he even worked at all. Again, that was none of my business. Gus immediately ran up to his truck while I stayed back. I hated that Gus had to acknowledge him every time we saw him outside, which in turn forced me to acknowledge him as well.

  “Come on, Gus,” I commanded, but he chose to ignore me, jumping all over Quinn as he petted him behind his ears. Gus finally obeyed my wishes and was at my side after getting a little more attention from Quinn.

  “How you doing?” Quinn asked as he took a bag of groceries from his truck.

  “I’m well. Thank you.”

  “Good luck with the new job,” he said while slamming the door to his truck shut.

  “Excuse me?” How in the world did he know I was starting a new job? I had never told him that.

  “Small town. You better get used to everyone knowing your business.”

  I shook my head, not liking the sound of that at all. I stared at him for a second longer than I should have, taking in the fact that for the first time since I’d met him, he looked clean-shaven. His demeanor was also different. He was smiling and he seemed happier than the few other times I’d encountered him. “Well, thanks…I guess.”

  “If anyone gives you a hard time, just tell them you know me.”

  My eyes widened before blurting out, “Well, that would be a lie.”

  He extended his free hand to me and his smile grew wider. “Should I reintroduce myself?”

  “No…no…I just meant…” I inhaled deeply. “Oh, forget it. Have a good night.” I salvaged some semblance of a smile and headed inside with Gus.

  Closing the door behind me, I couldn’t escape the rattled feeling creeping up on me. Hopefully the town folk were only interested in my present. The last thing I wanted was for them to go digging up my past only to have the stares and whispers behind my back that I’d just escaped from. I couldn’t think about that now. Instead, I was going to think positive. I was moving on with my life and starting over as best as I could. I pulled the wine I had chilling in the fridge and uncorked the bottle. “Well, Gus, the first step in thinking positive is pouring yourself a big old glass of liquid confidence.” I filled the wine glass and held it up in a toast as Gus looked up at me, hanging on to my every word. “Here’s to thinking positive and starting over,” I said, gulping it down and immediately pouring myself another. No amount of wine in the world could ever bring my confidence back nor help me think positive again…but for now it temporarily numbed the pain, which was the next best thing.

  Chapter 5

  Quinn

  “Quinn, you can’t just fly off the handl
e and put the house on the market,” my attorney advised. Robert had been my family’s attorney for years. I had finally taken the first step. A step I had been avoiding for the sake of saving my marriage, but Sara and I seemed to be moving backward instead of forward, and the bombshell she had dropped about moving to the city was the final straw. I knew a lot of it had to do with my pride. I was sick of looking like a chump who sat around waiting for his wife to come back to him.

  “Why not? She’s not living there anymore and neither am I, so why am I paying a mortgage on a house no one is living in?”

  “That’s not how it works. If you decide to proceed with the divorce, then all of the joint assets will have to get divided equally.”

  “Okay, what if Sara is in agreement with selling the house?”

  He shook his head and let out an annoyed breath. “Quinn, you’re upset, and that’s understandable given the circumstances, but you and Sara have been through a lot and you’ve always been such a great couple. Give it time. I’m sure you two can work it out.”

  I was sick of everyone telling me to give it time so we could work things out. They didn’t know how I was feeling on the inside or the slow torturous ache in my heart every time I would think of my wife with another man. I was supposed to sit around and wait for things to get better while she traipsed all over New York City with the man who was a big part of the problem in our marriage. My anger grew even more when I thought back to all the times I had the perfect opportunity to be unfaithful to Sara. Beautiful women, not looking for any type of commitment, throwing themselves at me, but I turned them all down because I loved my wife. It was hard to believe not too long ago we were at the top of the world, preparing for the baby until it all came crumbling down. Now, here we were, two strangers to each other and ourselves. I had given myself time to cool down from that day in the restaurant, but even two weeks later I was still fuming over her total lack of regard for our marriage.

  “Just think about it for a little while longer before you jump the gun, and if you’re still feeling the same way a month from now, I’ll draw up the papers.” I nodded in agreement, even though I was ready to have him draw up those papers right at that very moment. “You know, your parents are going to be devastated if you go through with this.”

  He was right. My parents were the ones who instilled the strong values of marriage into me. They truly believed in for better or for worse, regardless of the circumstances. Divorce was a four letter word to them. “Well, my parents aren’t living my life. They don’t know how I feel.”

  “I know.” We both stood up at the same time, and he placed his hand on my shoulder. “Just try and hang in there, Quinn. You know you’re like a son to me, and I hate seeing you go through this. Try and focus a little more on work and a little less on the drinking.” I furrowed my brows. If there was one thing I wasn’t much in the mood for right then, it was a lecture. “Your mother and father, they’re worried about you. We all are,” he clarified.

  “Well, I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.” And right then, I was going to take care of myself by meeting up with a few of the guys from work at Bobby’s Tavern.

  ***

  “Hey, Quinn, what’s going on?” Liza asked. In addition to being a regular bartender at Bobby’s, Liza and I had somewhat of a history. She was my first back in high school, and I was hers. Even though she wanted more to come of it, I didn’t. I was a typical teenage boy with raging hormones ready to move on and sample the next chick who would allow me. Since that time, Liza had grown up in all the right ways. She wasn’t that flat-chested girl with braces anymore. She was a tall, double D, hot as hell woman. She never married and would always flirt with me each time I came in, not caring at all about the fact that I was married. Most normal guys would have taken her up on her flirtatious behavior, but I wasn’t one of them. I didn’t care if the guys at work called me whipped for not testing the waters once again with a more mature Liza. But now, given my current circumstances and staring at Liza in her formfitting T-shirt that emphasized her assets, the rules were about to change.

  “Not much,” I replied, chugging down the last of my beer and not hiding the fact I was checking out every inch of her body.

  “Well, I just got off, and I really don’t want to walk out in that dark parking lot all by myself. Can I request a big strong police officer to escort me out safely?” I gave her a grin and stood up, happy to meet her request. We walked out of the bar to the catcalls of my coworkers, cheering me on for what I was pretty certain was going to happen if I wanted it to.

  “Where’d you park?” I asked.

  “Right over here.” She led me over to a white SUV. “Well, this is it,” she said as we reached the passenger side door. I looked her over once again and without saying another word, I slammed her against her vehicle and my tongue was down her throat. It had been four long months since Sara and I last had sex, and even though I took care of my own needs from time to time, it still wasn’t the same as being with a woman. She responded just as eagerly, immediately sliding her hands down my pants and under my boxers. This was all so surreal to me. Once Sara and I were married I had never imagined myself being with another woman. My mind and my heart were on the same page for once, both telling me this was the wrong thing to be doing. My body, on the other hand, was telling me a completely different story.

  “Liza,” I whispered as her tongue slid down my neck.

  “Hmm…” she whispered back.

  “I can’t do this.” God, I was such an idiot. Any normal guy would just fuck her and forget her, but all I could see each time I closed my eyes was Sara’s face. The thought of getting revenge on Sara for what she had done to me had crossed my mind a million times, but now that it was actually happening, everything about it seemed so wrong.

  “What the fuck, Quinn? She cheated on you!” She grabbed the back of my neck and our tongues were entangled once again as her hands moved about my body. I pushed her away at the sound of voices approaching us. I cleared my throat and raked my hand through my hair, shocked as hell when I found myself staring into Lacey’s beautiful blue eyes. Even with only the glow of the streetlight they were just as bright as ever as she and another girl I vaguely remembered from school stood there in silence, staring at Liza and me.

  “Oops, sorry! We were just passing through.” The girl she was with giggled. Lacey’s eyes locked with mine once again, giving me a sympathetic smile as they skirted by us.

  I pulled it together, feeling like a total ass for what I almost let happen. “I have to go, Liza.”

  “Wow, she really fucked you up in the head, didn’t she?” she shouted as I walked off. I sat in my truck for some time. Why couldn’t I just man up and get even with Sara for what she had done to me? Why was it so hard to move on from her and my past? How was it so easy for her to do it without even blinking an eye? And, why did my thoughts keep going back to Lacey and wondering what was going through her mind just moments ago?

  Chapter 6

  Lacey

  “Oh my God, Quinn Lavery is back on the market!” Julia screeched as we walked to our cars. Julia was a second grade teacher at the school I was working at, and she was also the official welcome wagon. In the past week of working, she had filled me in on the personal life of all of the staff and every one of my students, whether I wanted to know or not. She talked nonstop and was a bit overbearing, but I knew she meant well. I would have much rather gone home and crawled into bed after Back to School Night, but she was relentless that I go out with her for appetizers and drinks. Since I hadn’t eaten dinner, I didn’t protest much before finally giving in.

  I debated on telling her that Quinn was my landlord for one brief second, then thought better of it. It wasn’t like I would ever be inviting her over to visit. “Oh, did he have a girlfriend or something?” I acted clueless, even though I had seen the wedding band on his finger that day at the lake.

  She shook her head, looking like she was ready to explode with t
he information. “He married snotty ass Sara Mason. I always knew they were a mismatched couple. Sara was a book worm, national honor society. I figured she would marry someone on her level.” She must have sensed the confusion on my face and continued to yammer on. “Don’t get me wrong, Quinn is hot as hell, but Sara seemed like she should be with a doctor or a lawyer, not a police officer.” He was a police officer? I wasn’t sure if I took comfort or displeasure in that fact. “They had a baby that was born prematurely and he died.”

  “Oh, wow, that’s so sad.” I was suddenly forming a newfound sympathy for my neighbor above.

  “Yeah, well, to make matters worse, Sara cheated on him. I think she really messed him up bad.”

  I looked down at the ground, thinking about all the times I had seen him with a bottle in his hand. My suspicions were correct. He was using alcohol to take away the pain. “Well, thanks for inviting me out. It was fun,” I said as I got into my Jeep.

  “Oh yeah, for sure! We need to make this a regular thing,” Julia replied as she entered her car.