Something Like Love by Monica James

Author:Monica James [James, Monica]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Limitless Publishing LLC
Published: 2015-02-02T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

You Can’t Handle the Truth

I wake before Lucky and Quinn, but don’t have the heart to wake either of them.

Quinn’s confession last night near broke me, and it makes me even more determined to find out about his past. If we’re to move forward, then I need him to trust me with his secrets, because once they are revealed, they’ll no longer be secrets, but form a part of his past.

Silently slipping out of bed, I dress in my jeans and Quinn’s sweater, and just before I open the door, I stop and inhale the collar, loving his scent.

As I mutely close the door behind me, I look out into the long hallway and realize I have no idea where to go. There is an old wooden staircase to my right, so I decide to venture downstairs in hopes of stumbling across some well needed coffee.

Downstairs is small, but cozy, and it’s everything I would expect a holiday home to look like. A low fire is crackling away, warming the floorboards, and my cold feet instantly thaw out with the heat. I take a quick look around the living area and see a few family photos sitting on the mantel. Curiously walking over, I pick up a dainty silver frame and see the face of a juvenile Polly, a happy Cynthia, and a handsome man, who I presume is Chandler. They are standing in front of the cabin, smiling broadly while holding onto a fish, looking mighty proud of their catch. They look so normal, but I can’t help but wonder, behind Cynthia’s smile does there lay an unhappy, broken soul, with a shitload of baggage, just like me?

After the events of last night, I decide to go easy on her, as she’s the only family I have. She and Polly came through for me, and if it weren’t for Cynthia looking for me, and Polly waking up Quinn, I hate to think where Tristan and I would be.

Every time I envision Tristan beaten, bruised, and begging for my life, an anger so fierce overtakes my senses, I need a minute to calm down. But I’m not here to dwell on the past. I’m here to focus on the future, and be pleased about how I showed Thomas and Phil that I’m a different girl than the one they once knew.

The smell of coffee reaches my nostrils, and I realize the aroma has floated in on the light wind, which drifts in through the open backdoor. I gently replace the frame on the mantel, and almost break out into a victory dance when I enter the kitchen and see a coffeepot brewing fresh, liquid gold.

I have no idea where anything is, and feel incredibly nosy going through the cupboards, but I strike it lucky when I find the mugs above the stove.

I pour myself a huge cup of much-needed coffee, and the moment I take a small sip, my body instantly unwinds. I decide to take a look outside and peek out the window above the sink.

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