No, here, right here. John pointed out to the asphalt. Here.
Blay shifted his eyes to the windshield only because he was too tired to argue. Out in front of the flatbed, the headlights illuminated everything, the snow-covered landscape blindingly white, the figure walking at the side of the road like a shadow thrown.
Red drops of blood marked the path of the footprints.
Qhuinn’s hands were bleeding from when he’d bashed up the dash—
Abruptly, Blay frowned. Sat up a little higher.
Like puzzle pieces sinking into their proper slots, the random details about where they were, from the bend in the road, to the trees, to the stone wall beside them, came together and completed a picture.
“Oh, shit.” Blay banged his head back against the rest. Closing his eyes briefly, he wanted to find another solution to this, anything other than him going out there.
He came up with a big, fat nada.
As he pushed open the door, the cold rushed into the warm interior of the truck cab. He didn’t say anything to John. No reason to. Things like going out into a snowfall after someone were self-explanatory.
Taking a deep drag, he clomped through the accumulation. The road had been plowed earlier, but that was a much-earlier kind of thing.
Which meant he probably had to act fast.
Here in this rich part of town, where the tax base was as broad as the rolling lawns, you’d better believe that another one of those house-size yellow muni plows was going to come by right before dawn.
No need to play this out in front of humans. Especially with the pair of leaking, dead-and-gones in the Hummer.
“Qhuinn,” he said roughly. “Qhuinn, stop.”
He didn’t yell. Didn’t have the energy. This…thing, whatever it was between them, had gotten exhausting long ago—and this current side-of-the-road showdown was just one more episode he didn’t have the strength for.
“Qhuinn. Seriously.”
At least the guy slowed down a little. And with any luck he was so pissed off, he wouldn’t put all the clues to their location together.
Jesus Christ, what were the chances, Blay thought as he glanced around. It was right about in this next half mile or so where that Honor Guard had done their business—and Qhuinn had nearly died from the beating.
God, Blay remembered tooling up that night, a different set of headlights picking out a dark figure, this time bleeding on the ground.
Shaking himself, he gave the name game one more shot. “Qhuinn.”
The guy stopped, his shitkickers planting in the snow and going no farther. He didn’t turn around, however.
Blay motioned for John to kill the headlights, and a second later all he had to deal with was the subtle orange glow of the truck’s parking lights.
Qhuinn put his hands on his hips and looked up to the sky, his head tilting back, his breath escaping upward in a cloud of condensation.
“Come back and get in the flatbed.” Blay took another drag and released the smoke. “We need to keep moving—”
“I know how much Saxton means to you,” Qhuinn said gruffly. “I get that. I really do.”
Blay forced himself to say, “Good.”
“I guess…hearing it out loud is still a shock.”
Blay frowned in the dim light. “I don’t understand.”
“I know you don’t. And that’s my fault. All of this…is my fault.” Qhuinn glanced over his shoulder, his strong, hard face set grimly. “I just don’t want you to think I’m in love with her. That’s all.”
Blay went to take a hit off his Dunhill, but didn’t have enough draw in his lungs. “I’m…sorry—I don’t get…why…”
Well, that was an awesome reply.
“I’m not in love with her. She’s not in love with me. We are not sleeping together.”
Blay laughed harshly. “Bullshit.”
“Dead serious. I serviced her in her needing because I want a young, and so does she, and it began and ended there.”
Blay closed his eyes as the wound in his chest got ripped open all over again. “Qhuinn, come on. You’ve been with her this whole last year. I’ve seen you—everyone’s seen you two—”
“I took her virginity four nights ago. No one had been with her before that, including myself.”
Oh, there was a picture he needed in his head.
“I am not in love with her. She is not in love with me. We are not sleeping together.”
Blay couldn’t hold still any longer, so he paced around, the snow packing under his boots. And then from out of nowhere, the voice of the Church Lady from SNL came into his head: Well, isn’t that speeeeeeeeeecial.
“I’m not with anybody,” Qhuinn said.
Blay laughed again with an edge. “As in a relationship? Of course not. But do not expect me to believe that you’re spending your off time crocheting doilies and alphabetizing a spice rack with that female.”
“I haven’t had sex in almost a year.”
That stopped him cold.
God, where the fuck was all the air in this part of the universe?
“Bullshit,” Blay countered in a cracked voice. “You were with Layla—four nights ago. As you said.”
In the silence that followed, the horrible truth raised its ugly-ass head again, the pain making it impossible for him to hide what he had so diligently been burying for the last few days.
“You were really with her,” he said. “I watched the library chandelier going back and forth under your room.”
Now Qhuinn was the one closing his eyes like he wanted to forget. “It was for a purpose.”
“Listen…” Blay shook his head. “I’m really not clear on why you’re telling me all this. I meant what I said—I don’t need any explanation about what you do with your life. You and I…we grew up together, and that’s it. Yeah, we shared a lot of stuff back then, and we were there for each other when it mattered. But neither one of us can fit into the clothes we used to wear, and this relationship between us is just the same. It doesn’t fit in our lives any longer. We don’t…fit anymore. And listen, I didn’t mean to get pissy in the truck, but I think you need to be clear on this. You and I? We have a past. That’s it. That’s…all we’ll ever have.”
Qhuinn looked away, his face once again in the shadows.
Blay forced himself to keep talking. “I know this…Layla thing…is a big deal to you. Or I’m guessing it is—how could it not be, if she’s pregnant. For me? I honestly wish you both well. But you don’t owe me any explanations—and what’s more, I don’t require them. I’ve moved on from childish crushes—and that’s what I had for you. Back then, it was just an infatuation, Qhuinn. So please take care of your female, and don’t worry that I’m slitting my wrists because you’ve found someone to love. As I have.”
“I told you. I’m not in love with her.”
Wait for it, Blay thought to himself. Because it’s coming.
This was classic Qhuinn, right here.
The male was incredible in the field. And loyal to the point of psychosis. And smart. And sexual to distraction. And a hundred thousand other things that Blay had to admit nobody else came close to. But he had one serious defect, and it wasn’t his eye color.
He couldn’t handle emotion.
At all.
Qhuinn had always run from anything deep—even if he didn’t move. He could sit right in front of you and nod and talk, but when the emotions got strong for him, he would leave the inside of his skin. Just check right out. And if you tried to force him to confront them?
Well, that wasn’t possible. No one forced Qhuinn to do anything.
And yeah, sure, there were a lot of good reasons for the way he was. His family treating him like a curse. The glymera looking down on him. Him having been rootless all his life. But whatever the stressors, at the end of the day, the male was going to run from anything that was too complicated, or required something from him.
Probably the only thing that could change that was a young.
So no matter what he said now, there was no doubt he was in love with Layla, but having been through the needing with her, and now waiting for the results, he was losing his mind from worry and pulling away from her.