Under the Moon (Goddesses Rising)

Chapter Fourteen

Even when a goddess’s power source seems unlimited, her own physical resources are finite. We encourage you to test your limits under controlled, safe circumstances.

—The Society for Goddess Education and Defense, New Member Brochure

…



“…too much at once.”

The soft voice was Marley’s, Quinn thought, struggling up through fog. Then came Nick’s, harsher, skeptical, shaking like he was running on caffeine and fear.

“I don’t like this. That was too easy.”

“Too easy? You’re insane. Fran was shot, Tim has a broken arm, Quinn’s unconscious—”

“Not anymore.” Her voice croaked, and she didn’t think anyone would hear her. But a second later Nick and Marley both bent over her.

“How you feelin’?” Nick asked. “I gotta tell you, this fainting shit isn’t very impressive.”

Marley gasped. “Nick!”

“It’s okay.” Quinn tried to sit up. Nick supported her with an arm around her back, and she saw she was on one of the stiff flowered sofas in the parlor. “He’s right.”

“He’s a jerk. You saved us all and nearly killed yourself.”

She shook her head. “He’s right,” she repeated. “It was too easy.” When she swallowed, her throat grated like sandpaper. “Got anything to drink?”

Nick handed her a bottle of water. It was lukewarm, and she realized the lights were off.

“No electricity?”

“No. I think your energy wave knocked it out.”

“How long was I unconscious?” She swung her legs off the cushion and shifted so Nick could lean back next to her. The water, warm as it was, felt like silk on her abused throat.

“You don’t know?” Nick sounded incredulous.

“I—” She stopped. She didn’t. That was bad. “No.”

“Only about twenty minutes,” Marley soothed.

“How are the others?”

“Fran will be okay. She’s weak, but I don’t think she needs a transfusion.”

“Push fluids.”

“We are. Tim broke his arm. Nick splinted it, but he’ll need to see an orthopod. I don’t think it’s displaced.” Her face tightened. “I don’t have the healing power you do. I can’t—”

“I’ll take a look.”

“No, you won’t.” Nick looked weird, and it took Quinn a minute to realize it was worry. He normally hid it well. But not tonight.

“If I can help him, I will.”

“Quinn, you’re completely drained.”

“I’ll be okay.” That might be a lie. “I could at least check him, see how bad it is.”

She could tell Nick didn’t believe her. “What else?”

“Bobby’s fine. The attackers are gone, every last one of them.” Nick stood and paced a few feet away. “When I got you back to the house, they’d disappeared.”

“How?”

He shrugged. “No idea. They all puddled onto the ground when you did your major goddess mind-meld thing or whatever it was.”

“It must have been the goddess. The one who cast the flame.”

“She what, teleported everyone?”

“No, but I think she cloaked them until she could get them out. Now please stop trying to divert me and tell me what’s wrong with Sam.”

Nick and Marley exchanged a look that said they knew how she’d react. Nick sighed and sank down next to her again.

“He’s still out.”

A sob welled in her chest, trapped. “Where is he?”

“Upstairs.”

She raised her eyebrows. “How did you get him there?”

“Wasn’t easy. Needed a Hoyer lift.” The joke fell flat. “He hasn’t moved. But it’s only been half an hour.”

“Let me see him.”

She expected Nick to say no, but he bent and hauled her into his arms to carry her upstairs.

“I can walk.”

“You need to rest.”

“What about your ribs? I know they were hurt.”

“Marley took the edge off. I’m fine.”

He wasn’t, of course. His legs shook, and his abs were rock hard against her side from his effort. She wasn’t exactly petite. But he was halfway up the flight of stairs already, and struggling would send them tumbling back down, so she held him around the neck and tried to balance her weight for him. She was so exhausted her need to recharge was on hold, but she knew it would be intense once it hit.

Plaster dust and shattered wood fragments littered the hallway at the top of the stairs. Quinn glimpsed a small hole in the common room ceiling before Nick turned right and set her down at the doorway to the room Sam was in. He clearly tried to mask that he was out of breath. Quinn squeezed his shoulder in thanks, but her attention went to her assistant, lying ghostly pale in the moonlight. She sat on the edge of the bed and put her hand on his chest, but Nick grabbed her wrist.

“Don’t, Quinn. You don’t have the energy.”

“I know.” She felt his heart beat under her palm. “Even if I can check him, I can’t fix him.”

“He’ll be okay.”

But he didn’t know, and neither did she.

“What I’m more concerned about,” Nick said, “is what that attack was supposed to accomplish.”

“I’m thinking the same thing.” Anson hadn’t been there. No one had tried to take Quinn or even harm her. The action had been peripheral, targeting the support team.

“I don’t know what the purpose was or if they accomplished it,” he stated. “But I know one thing for sure.”

Quinn finished for him. “They’ll be back.”

…



“You need to rest, Quinn.” Nick set his hand on her shoulder, but she didn’t move.

“I’m not leaving Sam.”

Marley spoke from the doorway. “Quinn, I’m not as depleted as you are. I can watch over him.”

“You’ve got your own people to take care of.”

“We’ll manage. You’re no good to anyone like this.”

Quinn tried to turn her head to argue, but it hurt too much to look over her shoulder. Her entire body throbbed and ached from channeling so much energy through it, making their point for them.

Quinn didn’t know what to do. She’d never felt so incapable in her entire adult life. Anson knew she was here, so her presence endangered everyone. Nick would never let her leave without him. He’d stand over her and fight to his last breath to keep her safe, but she’d rather lose her abilities to leeching than lose Nick forever. But the stakes were higher now. Anson obviously didn’t care whom he hurt.

Sam would tell her the despair she felt, the enormous weight of responsibility, was so heavy because of her fatigue. She smiled a little, hearing his voice in her head, but then she wanted to cry, watching him lying so still.

Nick’s cell phone buzzed. Frowning, he checked the display, then answered. “Yeah.” He cursed. “When?” After a few more one-word queries and responses, he hung up and shook his head. “Dammit.”

“Who was that?”

“John.”

His boss. “What happened?”

“He hit again.” Nick didn’t look over when Marley gasped.

“Another goddess was leeched?” Quinn squeezed out. “Where?”

“Boston.”

She stared at him for a few seconds, not getting it. “When?”

“Half an hour ago.” He walked stiffly to the wall and leaned against it, as if too tired to stand on his own anymore. “Which means he wasn’t even close to this battle. I don’t know if this was supposed to be a distraction or if he just wanted a shortened timeline, or maybe more juice to come after you himself.”

“Who did he get?” Quinn managed to ask. Her voice was barely audible, her body shutting down despite her struggles to focus on what Nick was telling them.

He named a goddess she didn’t know. “He didn’t drain her completely. He’d barely started when her protector stopped him, doing some damage he’ll have to recover from, according to John. Protector couldn’t hold on to him, though, and apparently he has a concussion and a busted hand. Goddess has been pulled in to the Society offices.”

“We have to get down there.” Quinn lurched to her feet, but her head swam and she hit the floor with a thud. She was barely aware of hands helping her down the hall to another bedroom, where she collapsed on the bed. No. Have to go. Can’t let him…

And then she was out.

The first couple of hours were dreamless. She woke briefly, struggling to calculate what time it was based on how long she’d been asleep. It was still scarily difficult, and her eyes closed against her will.

This time, though, she dreamed. The unprecedented amount of power she’d channeled that night had overloaded her system. Now, with a little rest, she was rebounding, and her body clamored to recharge, desperate when it had been denied for so many cycles. First, it hummed, an engine driving a clawing hunger. Her pulse throbbed in her neck, her groin. She rolled onto her side and squeezed her thighs together. Her bra constricted around her heavy, swollen breasts. She ached—her throat, her nipples, between her legs.

There was no one here to address the need, so her subconscious punished her for it.

She dreamed of Sam, standing by the river back in Ohio. His bare toes curled into the silt at the water’s edge. The light was early-morning dim, so the green leaves and grass and water were dark while his skin looked like carved marble. His naked legs, ass, back, shoulders were all achingly familiar and daring her to touch. He shook back his shaggy dark hair, then dove into the water. He surfaced facing her, an abandoned grin on his face.

“C’mon, Quinn. Have some fun.” His tone left no doubt what kind of fun she should have.

Her body craved what had so often nourished it. Even as she stood unmoving on the bank she could feel the cool, silky water on her bare skin, then Sam’s strong, hard arms and legs around her. His penis inside her, stroking and pumping until she bit his neck, cut into his back with her fingernails, and exploded in a shower of light.

“You don’t kiss me,” he said, annoyed, and it was like the orgasm hadn’t happened, like the dream reset.

“I’m sorry, Sam. I can’t. It’s wrong.” Wrong to accept from him what she really wanted from someone else.

“It’s never wrong.” But he threw her away from him. She sank deep into the water, caught by the current that dragged her along, whirling and spinning up against rocks and surfacing only long enough to get a breath before being sucked under again. The maelstrom didn’t scare her, though. Even asleep, she knew the drowning was metaphorical, punishment for not slaking her lust. Drowning in need, not water.

She washed up onto shore on a bed. Everything was dry, but she was still naked. Silk bound her wrists to the bedposts and Nick sat next to her, fully dressed. His hands rested on his lap and she arched toward him, her body begging. He shook his head.

This was her dream. She could have what she wanted here, guilt free. The restraints disappeared and she grabbed the sides of Nick’s open flannel shirt and yanked him to her.

The woods and river vanished, and she was in her room at Marley’s inn, dimly lit with moonlight. She was naked and panting…

And she held Nick over her, his shirt fisted in her hands.

“Are you awake?” he murmured, his lips brushing hers.

She nodded, shocked.

“Good.”

His mouth crossed the last centimeter between them and closed over hers. At first it was simple, welcoming, but after a few seconds Nick opened his lips, parting hers, and dipped his tongue inside, just a touch. Quinn tightened her grip and pulled him closer, but he’d braced his arms on either side and held his weight off her. He concentrated on the kiss—the slow, devouring, savoring kiss.

Quinn had never been kissed like this before. It was as if that was all Nick wanted from her, all he would give. Yet the bold stroke of his tongue and the slight moan in the back of his throat told her there was going to be much, much more.

His right hand came off the bed and cupped the side of her face. His fingers stroked her hair behind her ear. He backed off a little, nipping at her mouth now while his hand caressed the side of her neck and top of her shoulder. Then he slipped it under her shoulder blade and lifted her against his chest.

He was so warm. Smelled so good. Need subsided into want, a low, rhythmic hum instead of a driving scream. Quinn loosened her grip on his shirt and pushed it back. He sat up and stripped it off, then pulled his T-shirt over his head before bending back to her.

Now she had flesh to touch, smooth skin rippling over powerful muscle. The low-burning embers caught. Her hands roamed across his chest, around to his back, where she gripped muscles and dug her nails in next to his spine.

“Nick,” she whispered, lost in him. Emotion trumped irrational hunger, and she wanted him because it was him, not because she couldn’t control her body.

“Quinn.” He came back for more kisses, their bodies rocking against each other. Nick rolled across her to lie at her side, his arms circling her. Quinn’s legs tangled in the sheet and she cursed. His mouth curved in a smile against her lips. She’d never felt anything so erotic. Need flared higher again, hotter, and she fought to get the sheet away, to unbutton his jeans, eliminate anything that kept them from being skin to skin.

“Slow down, baby.” He held her head with both hands now. “We’ve got time.”

“I can’t.” She stripped off his jeans and the briefs underneath, but when she would have taken him into her hand, he caught her wrist.

“I’m not a tool, Quinn.” His voice was hard and cut right into her. She stilled.

“Then maybe you don’t want to be here.”

“The hell I don’t. This is the only place I want to be.” He let her push him onto his back, but when she moved to straddle him he blocked her. “I want more than your body.”

He already had more. He had everything. How could he not know it? Her throat tightened. She wanted to tell him, to explain that years of pent-up longing combined with the moon lust were driving her insane, but the words wouldn’t squeeze through. She ran her hands across his broad chest and down his abs, watching the moonlight paint his skin with flickers. She raised her head to meet his eyes, letting him see everything she couldn’t say. This time, when she swung her leg across his hips, he didn’t stop her. His lips parted as he drew in a sharp breath, and his fingers tightened on her hips, his thumbs in the creases of her thighs.

Then he grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her down to him, meeting her mouth with a hot, plunging kiss. Quinn moaned and straightened her legs so she lay fully on top of him, touching everywhere. His arms wrapped around her back, his hand tunneling up into her hair.

Quinn bent her head to his collarbone, inhaling as she tasted him. Leather, musk, salt, and sin. She slid down, running her tongue along ridges and nipping with her teeth, reveling in the harshness of his breathing. His fingers tangled in her hair, massaged her scalp, then wrapped her hair tight around them. He tensed as she went lower and jerked when her hand brushed his cock.

It was longer than her hand, hot and silky, and hard as stone when she squeezed it. When she wrapped her lips around the head, he stopped breathing and froze. She licked as much as she could reach, then pushed her mouth down. Licked again, took him deeper, as low as she could go. She sucked hard as she moved back up.

“F*ck.” Nick grabbed her shoulders, pulled her up, and flipped her onto her back. “I knew you were going to have your way.” But he didn’t sound angry about it anymore.

Quinn bent her legs and lifted her hips. Nick ripped open a packet with his teeth, used one hand to cover himself, and then dropped his head into her neck and thrust deep with a long, low groan. She let out half a scream, her joy and ecstasy overwhelming her.

Nick’s mouth moved against her neck, his breath hot, as he pulled out and sank deep again. Pleasure sizzled, white-cold and red-hot, all the way to the tips of her fingers and toes. Quinn squeezed him as hard as she could, and he gasped.

“Jesus, Quinn.” With his arm under her back, that hand gripping her neck again, and his other hand clutching her hip, he began thrusting. She held on to his sides with her knees and his back with her arms and sobbed into his shoulder while her vision went black and she lost herself in him, in the tension he built inside her.

“Oh god, Nick.” She pressed upward against him and he moved faster, thrusting harder, more frantically. “Please, Nick, now.”

With a shout he threw his head back, his hips hard against her. Everything tightened into a point, then burst out to the edges of her existence. Pure white light, moonlight, filled her body and her vision. She couldn’t breathe, the pleasure and the beauty were so exquisite. They lay, still holding each other tightly, still tensed against each other’s bodies, as their world expanded again.

Nick sighed and rolled to his side without letting go of her. He tucked her against his chest, but said nothing.

“We should go,” she murmured, “before Anson leaves Boston again.”

“John said he was hurt. You need some more sleep. We’ll go in a couple of hours.”

Quinn tried not to sink, but it was a losing battle. This time, when the darkness overtook her, she healed.

…



She woke a few minutes after dawn, snuggled in blankets and laying across the backseat of Nick’s car. She stretched, pleased to find her body fully recovered from the battle. Her outlook, too, was a full one-eighty from where it had been the night before. She’d been ready to leave, to try to face Anson alone so no one else would be hurt, but now she realized how backward her thinking had been. Her safety wasn’t more important than anyone else’s, but she wasn’t the only one with a stake in stopping Anson.

Marley and her friends had fought hard last night, and Quinn could no longer question her motives. They’d all worked well as a team, and that was the only way they were going to win this. It was time to go on a full offensive.

She sat up, catching Nick’s attention. “Morning,” he said.

“Apparently.” She freed herself from the tangle of blankets and climbed over the seat. “Where are we?”

“Halfway to Boston.” He handed her a large cup of coffee. She sniffed it and smiled. French vanilla. It was still hot.

“How did you get me into the car without waking me?”

Nick snorted. “You were out deeper than Sam. Who’s fine, by the way.”

She perked up. “He’s awake?”

“Just. Marley says he’s still a little fuzzy, but she’s feeding him energy drinks and as soon as he can walk without toppling over, they’ll come down to meet us.”

“Good.” She sighed and settled more comfortably on the seat, watching the woods they sped past and wondering what, if anything, she should say about last night. Nick would probably tell her he knew she needed to recharge and he was the only one available, but there had been an intensity he couldn’t deny, an intimacy that terrified her. Everything had changed between them, but nothing had changed in the outside world, not yet. She couldn’t face Nick rebuilding the wall.

“How do we know Anson is still in Boston?” she asked.

“We don’t. But even if he’s on his way to Maine, we won’t be there.” He glanced at her. “We should go to the Society.”

Her first reaction was refusal. “You really think they’d help us?”

“Not necessarily, but they may have information we don’t. It could help us find him.”

“I doubt we’ll have any trouble with that.” When Nick cocked an eyebrow at her, she said, “He’ll find me.”

Nick scowled, but he seemed to have accepted the inevitable. “Then it could help us battle him. It’s worth trying.”

“Okay.” She looked down at herself and grimaced. “I look horrendous.”

“Sorry. I just put on you what was available.”

She blushed, remembering why he’d had to dress her. The jeans held grass stains from when she fell to the ground during the battle, and her green T-shirt, while cleaner, was faded and thin in spots.

“We can stop for you to change,” Nick offered.

“I don’t have anything to change into,” she said. “It’s all at Chloe’s.”

“Marley sent some stuff. Nothing fancy, but clean, at least.” He pulled into the parking lot of a fast food restaurant. “This okay?”

“I’ll make it work.” She leaned into the back for the bag behind his seat.

“You want anything?”

“No, thanks.” She couldn’t handle food right now.

The bathroom wasn’t the cleanest one she’d ever been in, but it wasn’t horrifying, either. She found a pair of khakis and a yellow button-down shirt and cleaned up as best she could at the sink. Marley had included a brush, but Quinn wished she had a little makeup to combat how washed out she looked.

Especially when she emerged from the restroom. Nick had changed into clean jeans and a white collared shirt, and his hair was damp. He leaned against the wall only a foot away from her and smelled marvelous, like bay rum.

Quinn squinted at his face. “Did you shave?”

He tilted his head a little, sheepish. “I was getting pretty scruffy. Thought if we were going in to convince the Society to help us, I’d better not look like the rogue they claim I am.”

“Good thinking.” She rose up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. His eyes bore into hers with an emotion she couldn’t define if she tried. After last night, she had no remaining moon lust to battle, but the magnetism between them had nothing to do with goddess/protector and everything to do with woman/man. It took effort to break eye contact and back away.

Traffic into Boston moved smoothly, and soon Nick parked across the street from the Society building. He stayed at her side through the lobby, up the elevator, and into the Society’s offices, a solid strength that kept Quinn calm as she walked into the reception area.

Alana sat at the reception desk. Worry lines creased her forehead and held tension around her mouth, but when she looked up to greet them, shock smoothed her features. “Wha-what are you doing here?”

“I’d like to talk to Barbara.”

Alana looked ready to argue but then seemed to change her mind. She hurried down the hallway without another word and returned less than a minute later, motioning them back.

Barbara Valiant rose behind her desk as they walked in. She was an imposing woman, tall and straight, her lightly lined skin not betraying her advanced age. She didn’t invite them to sit, nor did she bother with polite greetings.

“I’ve been apprised of the events of last evening,” she said without preamble.

“She was incredible,” Nick responded immediately. He stood with his feet braced, his hands at his sides, a battle position.

“So I hear.” She focused on Quinn. “Why do you think he has targeted you with such intensity?”

She and Nick had talked about this on the drive, and she knew it would be easier to get what she needed if she gave a little first. “We think he might have marked me from the beginning.” She briefly explained Sam’s college connection and the things Marley had told them, but her resentment grew as she spoke. “You know, if you hadn’t been so determined to keep me sidelined, maybe we could have put all the pieces together weeks ago.”

Barbara sighed and sat, finally motioning for them to do the same. Quinn accepted the invitation, but Nick stood at her shoulder.

“We were trying to protect the Society. Your relationship to a goddess with ties to a suspected leech—the most heinous of all criminals associated with our world—put us in danger.”

Part of Quinn, the rational board member, understood that. The rest of her was still angry. “Why couldn’t you just tell me that? I didn’t even know I had a sister. When this started, all I knew was that goddesses were in danger, and I wanted to help stop it. But you ignored me.”

“Much to our regret, I assure you.” Suddenly, she looked closer to her age than Quinn had ever seen her. “Why are you here?”

Quinn cleared her throat. “If Anson wants me, he’ll be coming after me soon. The moon is at its peak. We want to be ready for him. To stop him. But we don’t have enough information.”

Barbara didn’t hesitate. She picked up a folder from her desk and handed it over. “This is all the information we have on Anson Tournado. The security team—”

“No, thank you.” Quinn took the folder but didn’t let Barbara complete the offer Quinn knew she was about to make. She didn’t have any reason to trust the security team or time to become comfortable with working with them. “We’ll handle it.”

Barbara nodded, and then her face went tight and slightly cold. “Please understand that you’re not being given license to act outside the regulations of the Society. Should you be deemed to have caused harm or broken any other edicts, you shall be punished. Regardless of the final result of your actions.”

Her jaw tense, Quinn said, “Understood.” She wasn’t promising to place a priority on Society regulations, only acknowledging what she’d been told. She’d deal with any consequences later.

“Your sister is another matter we should discuss.”

Quinn tensed again. “In what regard?”

“She will have to answer for her role in the leech’s creation.”

“I understand that, but I need her. She knows Anson better than any of us, and we’ll need her help taking him down.”

Barbara nodded. “No sanctions will be made until this is over, but at that time, we must take into consideration the contributions of all involved in the leech’s creation.”

Quinn went cold. She might mean Sam, too, since Anson was his old college roommate. “Including the Society? Because we all believed leeches to be legends. The Society of Goddess Education and Defense failed in both halves of its mission. Marley may have made a terrible error in judgment, but she’s not evil, and the Society is as complicit in all of this as she is.”

Since Barbara didn’t seem inclined to respond to that, Quinn stood and indicated the folder. “Thank you for this.”

“Good luck.”

As they headed back to the elevator, Quinn took a deep, slow breath to dissipate her tension. “That was both harder and easier than I expected.”

“Hopefully there’s something in there that will help.” Nick’s phone beeped, and he checked the text message. “They’re here. Parking.”

Quinn willed the elevator to go faster and then hurried outside, looking both ways. She smiled when she saw Sam striding up the sidewalk, looking whole and healthy, Marley walking beside him.

“How are you?” Sam and Quinn asked at the same time, and laughed.

“I’m fine,” Sam said. “Everyone is. Or will be.” He looked down at Marley. “She fed me, like, six energy drinks since I woke up. I’m ready to go.” He took Quinn’s elbow and steered her a few feet away from the others, lowering his voice. “How are you really doing?” he asked.

“I’m fine. I’m more worried about you. I was so scared.” She skimmed a hand over his head and checked, using a small stream of energy. No trauma that she could find. When she dropped her hand to his chest to examine his body, he caught her fingers and wrapped his hand around hers.

“I told Nick before, I’m back to normal. But you tapped into a lot of power last night. I can’t believe you’re still standing.”

“Oh.” She understood where he was going and tried hard not to look at Nick. “I’m fine, really. I got a good night’s sleep.” If he thought she was evading, he didn’t pursue it, either, simply pulled her into a tight hug, her head against his chest. His heartbeat was slow and steady under her ear. He pressed his lips to her head and murmured something she couldn’t hear, then let her go, shifting to bring the other two back into the conversation.

Quinn passed him the file folder. “This is everything the Society has on Anson. See if there’s anything that can help us.”

“What’s the plan?” he asked.

“We need showers and food and then we have to find a safe location to face him,” Quinn said. “The moon’s up and he’ll be coming soon. I want to be prepared, and I want control. We won’t get that unless we draw him to us, on our terms.”

“I know a hotel,” Sam said. “From the research I did before you guys came out here before.”

“Okay, we’ll follow you.”

They split up, Sam and Marley turning around to go back to Chloe’s Prius that Quinn spotted a couple of blocks up the street. Her throat swelled a little. It was so like Sam to think of that, rather than leaving her car all the way up in Maine. Now it would be easier to get it back to her when this was all over.

“How are you feeling?” Nick settled his hand on her waist, his arm a solid support against her back as they crossed the street to the Charger.

Quinn shivered, remembering the night before, drawing in a slow breath full of his leathery scent. “I’m good. Except for road fatigue, I feel the best I’ve felt in months.” They walked in silence, and she tried not to think about what would be next for them. After this was all over, she had no doubt it would go back to the way it was before. Or worse. She didn’t know what the Protectorate would do if they found out they’d slept together. John might have someone else assigned to her and keep Nick away.

A few minutes later, they pulled to the valet behind the Prius. Quinn smiled at the hotel staffer who took their disreputable duffels, mild distaste curling his mouth until she handed him a hefty tip.

“Quinn.”

Marley’s soft entreaty stopped Quinn inside the doors to the marbled lobby. Nick shot her an inscrutable look, then a commanding one at Sam before heading to the check-in desk. Sam took up a stance a few feet away, facing the doors.

“I’m sorry,” Marley said.

Quinn sighed. “I know you are.”

Marley shook her head. “I know you don’t understand. Why I did this. How someone could fool me so easily.” She stared out the etched glass doors, blinking fast. “Not all of us are as confident as you are. Or lucky enough to have two guys who love you and would do anything for you.” Bitterness colored her tone now, jealousy that might have been a driving force in her bad decisions. Not necessarily jealousy of Quinn, but of anyone who had what she didn’t.

But she was right. Quinn didn’t understand. “You have Tim and Bobby and Fran and a whole compound full of people.”

“Pfft. They don’t care about me. You know how many people come to my place because they hear I can help them get back on their feet, and then leave and never contact me again? No one stays. Fran, yes, but…” Her eyes filled with tears and she shook her head again. “Sam would do anything for you. That’s clear after talking to him for five minutes.”

Quinn watched Sam’s shoulders tighten and knew he was listening.

“I thought I had that with Anson,” Marley lamented. “I just wanted—”

“You wanted to keep him,” Quinn interrupted. “You got desperate and let him talk you into something you knew was wrong. We all do that.” Her circumstances had been different, but how could she condemn Marley when Quinn had held on to Sam just as tightly? “But we can’t control other people’s feelings.”

Marley nodded and walked to the counter where Nick still stood.

“You let me go.”

Quinn turned to Sam, who watched her sadly. “What?”

“You’re not like her. You let me go.”

It was Quinn’s turn to blink back stinging tears as Sam, too, walked away. She had a new empathy for her sister. Of course people would do anything to avoid being alone. The crushing loneliness her relationship with Sam had held at bay threatened to descend on her, and now was the worst possible time to let it. She had to be strong. There was work to do.