Give Me Strength Page 11

  I rubbed a hand over my eyes, startled when the door flew open and Travis stormed in the room in his jeans, his bare chest heaving. His eyes flashed anger.

  I sat up. “What is it?”

  “This,” he growled and shoved a file of papers in my face. I barely caught a glimpse of all the photos before he snatched them away. Seeing those once had been enough. My stomach lurched. Those photos had sent David to jail—my bruised eyes in a face so beaten and swollen I could barely be recognised, stitches through the back of my head, a broken arm, broken ribs, and bruising all down my obviously pregnant belly.

  “You knew I’d been assaulted.”

  “Assault?” he shouted. “That’s not assault. It’s attempted fucking murder! He would have kept beating you and kicking you until there was nothing left. You lost your baby,” he whispered. “And three years was all he got.”

  “How did you get those?” I whispered, staring at my hands.

  “We requested the records. The police faxed them through this morning.”

  “Uh huh.” I nodded carefully, rolling my shoulders to relax my body, reminding myself I was an adult who could control her emotions. “And who’s we?”

  Travis thrust his arm out wide, his fingers gripping tight to the folder. “That doesn’t matter. You almost died!” He threw it against the wall and photos and papers scattered everywhere.

  “It does matter!” I shouted back, all care of control gone in an instant. “It does. Did you see those? Did you have a good look? My baby died. My baby!” I shrieked, now up on my knees on the bed, the sheet clutched in my fingers. “He broke me. He took every piece of me I had left, and he smashed it apart. Nothing fits properly anymore. That’s what those photos are, and that’s what I don’t want anyone seeing.”

  Mac stormed in, Henry hot on her heels. “What the fuck is going on in here?”

  Travis pointed at the door. “Out, Mac.”

  She folded her arms as Henry came to stand next to her. Both sets of eyes dropped to the photos scattered on the floor. Henry paled and Mac drew a hand to her mouth. Then she looked at me, horror filling her expression.

  I turned dull eyes on Travis. “Are you happy now?”

  “Out!” Travis yelled.

  Mac flinched. She took Henry’s hand in hers, and they left the room, the door closing with a soft click.

  The silence felt too still as Travis sank to the edge of the bed, running his hands through his hair as he hunched over.

  “Travis?”

  He shook his head as though he couldn’t speak. I swallowed the lump in my throat and climbed off the bed to stand between his legs. He wrapped his hands around the backs of my bare thighs, tugging me closer, running his hands up and down the smooth skin as he fought to find the words. He pressed his head into my belly, and I felt him shudder.

  “I’m sorry, Quinn.” His voice was muffled against my shirt. “I’m so angry this happened to you.”

  “I’m angry too.” Travis looked up at me from beneath his lashes. “But I don’t want to be angry anymore.” I looked away, tired enough to not want to be anything. He let go of me, and I backed away, hating that I was letting everything David had done dictate my life. “That’s about the only thing I know, apart from the fact that I can’t be anything to anyone right now. I don’t know if I ever can.”

  Travis stood, his eyes red and tired, and he nodded as though he understood what it was I was trying to say. “You’ll need to go down to the station today. I’ll get Mitch to take you.” He inhaled deeply as he looked away. “I’ll see you, Quinn.”

  ***

  A week later I was in the basement, curled into the couch with the laptop as Jamieson worked through new material.

  Wanting to upload some photos to their Facebook page, I lifted the camera in my hands and aimed it at Cooper.

  “What a minute, Quinn. I’ll take my shirt off.”

  “You do that, Coop, they’ll shut our Facebook page down from the fan backlash,” Evie piped up.

  I took the photo just as Cooper was giving Evie the finger.

  She smirked at him. “Good comeback.”

  Uploading the photo to the laptop—Cooper was snarling from his perch on the amplifier and Evie, guitar slung over her back, was hunched over laughing at him—I fiddled with the lighting and colour until a vintage look was achieved. I hit upload on Facebook with a grin and waited for the comments to roll in.

  Monday had passed by with Mitch taking me to the police centre to formalise the incident report. Now it was a waiting game to hear the outcome. Tuesday was spent off work packing and moving, breaking my lease with the real estate agent, and formally changing my address. The rest of the week was immersed in work, and I wouldn’t have had that any other way. I loved my job and now that I lived where I worked, I could sleep in more. Lucy’s plan was to stop by two early mornings a week for us to exercise together. Early morning jogs in Coogee were different. People jogged along beach pathways. They smiled or gave you the “joggers club” nod. On Monday morning Mac and Evie had come with us. Lucy was thrilled because on Friday a paparazzi snapshot of us appeared in a national women’s magazine with the caption: Evie moving on.

  “How’d your night go last night with that whatshername chick?” I heard Henry ask Frog.

  “Waste of time,” Frog announced.

  “Well that’s it.” Evie threw up her hands. “You’ve been through all the women in Sydney. There are none left.”

  Cooper pointed at me. “We still have Quinn.”

  Hearing my name, I glanced up and he gave me a wink.

  Henry shook his head. “That ship has sailed.”

  Cooper and Frog turned wounded eyes on me. “You hooked up with someone and didn’t tell us, Quinn?”

  I glared at Henry. “No, I’m not ‘hooked up’ with anyone.”

  “Quinn!” Mac shouted down the stairs. “Where’s that run sheet for next Friday?”

  “It’s uploaded into your calendar, Mac! Trying to cut down on all the paper,” I called back, ignoring the chatter around me to focus on the laptop.

  “Too fucking efficient,” I heard Mac mumble as her shoes clicked back towards the office.

  When Evie was singing a few trial bars and trailed off into silence, I looked up. She was staring at the entrance to the basement with wide eyes. Turning my head, I saw Casey standing there, his blue eyes drinking Evie in.

  “Casey,” she whispered. “You’re back.”

  He gave her a short nod.

  She whipped her guitar off her shoulders and a moment later was folded in his arms.

  “Hotdog!” Cooper whooped.

  Casey chuckled and the basement chatter got louder.

  I looked sideways at Jake when he flopped down on the couch next to me. “Why do they call him hotdog?” I whispered.

  He laughed at my pink face. “It’s not why you think. It’s just a joke term used for flashy surfing. Evie started it.”

  “Casey surfs?”

  Jake nodded. “He and Evie started surfing together before he went overseas.”

  The computer beeped an incoming email, and I flicked it open, starting to read when Jake nudged my shoulder. “So who’s the guy?”

  Without taking my eyes from the screen, I said, “So what’s going on with you and Mac?”

  He patted me on the thigh. “I’m glad we had this conversation.”

  “Me too,” I muttered at his retreating back.

  When Casey and Evie stood alone again, I heard him ask, “Is everything good now?”

  Evie nodded, saying softly, “Everything’s good.”

  Casey grinned before tipping his chin at the guys. “Catch you all later. Surf tomorrow, Evie?”

  She gave him two thumbs up. “You bet.”

  Then Casey turned those blue eyes on me. “Quinn. Walk me out?”

  “Oh.” A few sets of eyebrows rose, and I fumbled with the laptop, sitting it on the couch next to me before standing up. “Um...okay.”

&n
bsp; I followed him up the stairs, frowning when he led me into the back office rather than the front door. When he shut the door behind us, I folded my arms as he walked towards me to lean casually against the edge of the desk.

  His eyes searched my face. “How are you doing, Quinn?”

  My brows drew together. “Sorry?” Then I remembered Mac telling me that Casey was a partner in Travis and Jared’s consulting business.

  I stared at my feet. “You know about David too?”

  He sighed heavily and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Quinn, I know we don’t know each other, but I wanted to be the one to let you know.”

  My brow furrowed. “Let me know what?”

  “David only got sixty days.”

  “I see,” I whispered softly, but inside my mind was reeling. After only a week I’d felt safe here, but safe was just a big, fat lie.

  “He’ll be out in a little under two months.”

  My hands shook and I turned, blindly searching for the chair and sat down.

  “Quinn,” Casey said softly. His eyes were on me, and they looked strained. “I wanted to let you know because I understand what you’re going through. I’ve been there too.”

  “You have?” My eyes ran the length of him. He was almost as tall as Travis and just as wide. Muscles rippled beneath a soft, grey shirt and dark jeans. Casey was good looking enough to suck the air from a room, but that didn’t mean anything when it came to abuse. Pain didn’t discriminate.

  He nodded, sagging into the desk. “I know what it’s like to lose what you love and have nothing left.” He paused. “So if you need to talk to someone who understands, I’m here, okay?”

  Turning in my chair, I faced the view of the backyard from the window. Rufus and Peter were splayed out on the soft grass, taking in the heat of the morning sun. How easy they made life look. “How do you escape it?”

  “I don’t know, Quinn. I haven’t figured that out yet.”

  My chest tightened as I turned back to look at him. “I’m going to have to move, aren’t I? Not just from here, but further away. Interstate, maybe.”

  “It’s an option,” he replied.

  Helpless rage rushed through me, and when my eyes fell on the stapler sitting harmlessly on the desk, I picked it up and threw it against the wall. It hid with a loud, satisfying clank.

  Casey’s eyes shifted from the stapler to me. “Feel better?”

  I ground my teeth together. “No. Yes.” I looked at him. “No.”

  “Quinn,” he said, his eyes softening.

  “Don’t!” I shouted. The urge to fall apart whenever Travis gave me that look was enough. I didn’t need Casey doing it too.

  “Don’t what?”

  “Nothing.” My lips pressed together. “Shit. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t.”

  “You can.” He took hold of my shoulders. “You can. One day at a time.”

  I shook my head at Casey.

  “Breathe, Quinn.”

  I sucked in a deep lungful of air.

  Shouting could be heard outside the door, and then it was slamming open as Travis yelled at Mitch. “…completely fucked up. Two months Mitch, and you can’t do shit.”

  Mitch threw his hands up in frustration, storming off as Travis stood in the doorway wearing his leather and dark jeans, customary sunglasses hanging in the neckline of his shirt. His chest was heaving, anger making his eyes wild.

  He held out his hand, palm up and commanded, “Quinn. Come with me.”

  My hand was in his before I could think. When his fingers closed around mine and held tight, I was pulled from Casey’s hold and led up the stairs and into my bedroom. The door slammed shut behind us, and letting go of my hand, he turned to face me.

  “I don’t want to talk about David anymore today, Travis.”

  He searched my pale, drawn face. “What do you want?”

  You. Because you’re the one that eases the ache in my chest. It’s you that takes my mind off everything that hurts. You that makes me lose all sense just from wanting you. And if I can’t have you, I want to be like Rufus and Peter and lie out in the sun as though I didn’t have a care in the world.

  “I want a day where David doesn’t exist.”

  He nodded, his mind ticking over. “Okay. You told me you liked the beach, so pack your shit.”

  “My shit?”

  “All that crap you girls pack in those giant bags and cart to the beach with you.”

  “You’re taking me to the beach?”

  His eyes skimmed me over in a way that left me tingling. “Don’t forget your bikini.”

  “My bikini?”

  Travis started walking towards the door. “And pack snacks with your shit. I’m hungry.” He opened the door. “Don’t be long,” he said over his shoulder with a wink.

  I blinked.

  I was going to the beach. With Travis.

  How did that just happen?

  I opened the bedroom door and yelled for Mac.

  She breezed in a minute later in a pair of navy Lorna Jayne sweats and a white tank top. “You called?”

  “I was thinking about going to the beach today.”

  “Congratulations,” she replied. “Isn’t it a bit cool now? Winter’s coming.”

  “I’m going with Travis.”

  “Oh my God.” She hurled herself on the bed and a pillow flew off the other side and landed on the floor. “This is just like old times! What are you wearing?”

  I picked up the pillow and tossed it back on the bed. “Old times?”

  “Yeah, when Evie and Jared got together.” She grabbed the pillow and stuck it under her head, wriggling her shoulders to form a groove. When she was comfortable, she sighed deeply. “That took some serious fucking work.”

  “Well this isn’t like that. Travis and I are…”

  Mac arched her brow. “Are what?”

  My cheeks puffed out as I tried to think while I opened the wardrobe door. My eyes ran over the contents, forgetting what I was supposed to be looking for.

  “I have no idea,” I said eventually.

  “Well I’m sure Travis has enough ideas for the both of you. Now show me what bikinis you’ve got.”

  At the reminder, I rummaged through the shelving of clothes inside the wardrobe. “I’ve only got one,” I said absentmindedly.

  “What?”

  “I’ve only got one bikini,” I repeated.

  “What?”

  “Mac!”

  She laughed. “Okay, okay, but seriously though. That’s fucked up. We need to fix that.”

  “I don’t even know where it is,” I told Mac when I walked from the wardrobe empty handed. It was probably a good thing. The suit was faded and tired looking. Lucy may well have thrown it out like she’d threatened to do last time we went to the beach.

  “Quinn!” Travis called out from downstairs. “Let’s go.”

  “I’ll be right down!” I called back.

  “Mac is that the phone ringing?” Henry asked, wandering into my room, head down as his fingers flew across the keypad of his phone.

  “Rubbish. My phone is right here, so that only means your shitty guitar playing skills have sent you deaf. Now get out. Quinn’s getting dressed.”

  Henry hit a button and jumped on the bed. “Awesome.” He snatched the pillow from underneath Mac, and her head snapped back. With a growl, she wrenched it from his arms. “I haven’t missed anything yet, have I?”

  The pillow smacked Henry in the face. “We’re picking out a bikini. Quinn’s going to the beach.”

  “We’re not picking one out. I only have one,” I reminded her. “And I can’t find it.”

  “Cool.” Henry’s phone buzzed a reply, and he propped himself up on an elbow to read it. “Can I come?”

  “She’s going with Travis.”

  He sighed dramatically. “The plot thickens.”

  Opening a drawer from my dresser, I snorted and yanked out a pair of denim shorts. “There is no plot. Bes
ides…” I waved my shorts around “...at this rate I’ll be swimming at the beach in my underwear.”

  Mac scooted to the edge of the bed and sat upright. “Alright, Quinn. Show me your boobs.”

  “Um, what?”

  “You heard me.”

  “Yeah, you heard her,” Henry repeated. He tossed his phone into the middle of the bed and widened his eyes at me in expectation.

  Mac reached over and punched him in the arm. “Out, Henry. I need to see what I have that will fit Quinn.”

  “Ouch, Mactard. You really need to get laid.” He crawled off the bed, rubbing his arm, and as he reached the door, called out, “Hmm, so does Jake for that matter.”

  His phone was hurled at him and with an outstretched arm, he caught it effortlessly in his left hand, laughter following him out the door.

  “Mac!” Travis shouted up the stairs. “Leave Quinn alone.”

  Mac grinned.

  “What?”

  She shrugged and said airily, “Travis just seems impatient to get his hands on you.”

  Ten minutes later—dressed in a pale blue floral bikini with a centre tie courtesy of Mac, my shorts, and a rose coloured tank top—my bag of “shit” was stowed in the black Subaru, and I was sliding into the passenger seat.

  Travis, wearing nothing but a pair of long boardshorts, gunned the engine. The throaty growl of it vibrated through my body as I buckled myself in, careful to keep my eyes averted from all that naked skin. Instead, I fixed them on the clean windows and upholstery, marvelling that his car bore no ill will from Rufus.

  “All good?”

  I gave him a nod. “All good.”

  Arriving at the beach, Travis grabbed my bag and started for the sand.

  “You’re not actually serious about swimming, are you?” I asked, my toes digging into the soft sand as I trudged after him. A cool breeze was gusting in off the ocean, and the horizon revealed a set of monster waves making their way towards the shore.

  He looked at me sideways as I caught up to him. “Sure.”

  I looked around. The beach wasn’t overly crowded except for the relative few I could see bobbing about in the waves. Death by chilly monster waves obviously wasn’t on most people’s list of things to get done today.