Page 83 of Forbidden Eyes
What the fuck? I need to do this now I’ve started, need to explain so she knows it’s not her. She shoves me onto the sheets easily, more strength in her hold than I’ve ever felt. Short of her hitting me in the goddamn jaw. I turn to carry on talking, trying to make sure she understands. “Please, Carter. Not now, okay? Just stop,” she says, spinning on her heel and walking to the door. “NURSE!”
Two of them run in, one of them straight over to my side and fiddling with machines again while I try to bat her away.
Jesus Christ.
“Get the fuck off me,” I snap, annoyed I can’t get to Fia, and physically shoving her to the side.
Quinn appears in my line of sight and stares at me before looking back to Fia. She shakes her head at him and keeps walking, her ass leaving before I get a chance to explain anymore.
“Get her back in here, Quinn. I haven’t finished with her yet. She needs to understand and…” I don't know what else I want to say, but I want to goddamned say it.
He just walks in and closes the door, eyes focused on me without looking back.
“You’ll see her on the plane. For now, you rest.”
Twenty-Four
Seeing Carter in the hospital helped to heal the piece of my heart that had broken apart when he was unconscious and beaten on the floor in that warehouse. Just when I think I’m getting to grips with my emotions, he goes and breaks another part by dismissing me like he did. Sure, he tried to explain what he feels for me, but really, after everything that’s happened, how can he have anything but regrets when it comes to me. If my feelings weren’t confused before, they are now. I don’t know what to think, how to act, but I do know that he means more to me than I’m familiar or comfortable with.
The journey to the airfield is quiet, and I can’t bear to make eye contact with Carter. Looking at him and the purple marks marring his beautiful face reminds me of everything my father put him through, everything he is. A well of sadness brims over inside me when I remember the look on my dad’s face, when I saw what he was capable of.
Running away was something I had no choice but to do. My sanity demanded that I look for answers and seek my own kind of freedom, but I never expected these repercussions.
We arrive at the airfield and Carter, despite struggling to walk, hustles out of the car and onto the plane without a second glance. By the time I’ve grabbed my bag and made it up the steps, he’s eased back into his chair with his eyes closed. If that’s not a hint, I don’t know what is, and it's fine because I couldn’t handle sitting next to him anyway.
At least that’s what I tell my fragile heart.
Uncle Quinn’s company is a safer option right now. He’s handled everything. I did as Mom said and made sure I stuck to Carter until he arrived, and I didn’t speak to anyone. As soon as Quinn turned up, the police and the hospital stopped hovering. He took over, and I could finally take a breath rather than worrying about how to handle everything.
“Hey,” I greet, as I drop down into the plush leather seat opposite him. Quinn just nods at me and carries on rolling his dice. “Why do you do that?” I tilt my head and look at the two cubes rolling in his palms.
He takes a moment to answer, as the flight crew work around us to get us on the journey back to Chicago.
“What, specifically, are you talking about?”
“The dice. You always have them.”
“Lucky charm of sorts.”
“Can I see?” I ask,suddenly interested to see if they are regular dice or have some special markings carved on them. I can’t remember a time when I’ve seen Uncle Quinn without them.
He hands them over, and I take a look, rolling them between my fingers. As far as I can tell, there’s nothing special about them. They feel warm, though, worn, as if he’s been rolling the same dice in his hands for years, which I suppose he has. The dots on them aren’t as clear as they should be, the little black bits disappearing.
“Thank you.” I hand them over, and he raises his eyes to me.
“What for?” His confused look is endearing in its own way.
“For coming to help. I wouldn’t have known what to do without you or Mom.” The panic that gripped me sets my pulse alight for a moment, even now.
“You’re smart. You’d have figured it out.”
“Seriously? Handling the police, the hospital staff questions? Having book smarts does not mean I’m cut out for dealing with these situations. It’s hardly a regular occurrence, although perhaps for my father it is. I certainly don’t want to see the man I…” I pause, not sure how to classify Carter. “Another man beaten half to death by my father any time soon. There isn’t a book to help you with that in school.”
“And what exactly is Carter?” Quinn’s eyes scrutinise me, and I want the ground to swallow me up rather than havethisconversation with my uncle.
“He’s… a friend. Who I like. A man. Not a boyfriend. Of course, he’s a man. You know that. It's not like…” I stop my verbal spew and shake my head, embarrassed at how lame and pathetic I sound. Carter stood up to my father for me. Took a beating for me. And in return I protected him the best way I could—firing a gun at my own dad. Yet, I can’t even tell Quinn that I like him? More than like him.
He goes back to twisting those dice in his hand, and I look out through the cabin window at nothing but air. The view doesn’t help, and I squirm in my seat, my fingers rubbing the healing marks on my skin that have scabbed over. I look between the gap at Carter. His body is relaxed, his head to the side, exposing the white scar that runs from his neck down onto his chest. My fingers itch to run through his hair, to provide some form of comfort to him after all he’s been through. To show him that I don’t see him as weak, but rather incredibly strong and resilient for having both the courage and the strength to do what he did. For me.For us. My heart whispers the last thought, and I grasp hold, desperate for it to be true.