he would and wouldn’t have wanted!”
“I was just telling you what he would have, actually.”
“Fuck!” Quinn tried to pivot around, stuck her heel in the
same farging crack as before, and let out a yelp. She would
have gone down hard, but all of a sudden there were warm
hands and strong arms and the scent of grapefruit in her nose.
“Argh!” She shoved at those hands and fought those arms.
Dallas’ hands. Dallas’ arms. “Just piss off. Please,” she added,
because swearing and being mean didn’t come naturally to her.
She hated herself for that word after.
As soon as Quinn was upright and stable, Dallas let her go.
She backed off a few feet and stared. Quinn stared back. She
couldn’t remember the last time she’d ever been so angry. Or
so unnerved. Her entire body shimmered with that brief,
unwanted contact.
“Okay, well, since you don’t want to hear what I have to
say and you’re hell bent on killing yourself with that crack,
just listen for ten seconds. I really am giving the money to
charity. I have five different ones lined up to give them five
thousand dollars each. I swear to you, that’s what I was going
to do. I know I don’t deserve the money, but they do. I
volunteer or have volunteered with all of them and they do
amazing work. I know what a difference that money would
make for them. If it wasn’t for that, I would never have come
down here. I did tell the lawyer to donate it to charity, but he
said he couldn’t do that on his own. I had to sign for it first. I
didn’t know you’d be involved until I got here.”
“Jim Johnson is a poop lawyer,” Quinn sniffed. Why am I
sniffing? It’s hot out. Am I seriously that upset? Yeah. Yeah,
she knew she was. Huffing and sniffing and flaring nostrils