“I need a drink,” Mr. Cole mumbled.
Quinton rubbed at the back of his neck with his hand and said, “I could go for a drink right about now, too.”
Nobody needed a stupid drink, it was early afternoon for goodness sake. They didn’t need a drink, but I sure needed an explanation.
“You have magic?” I whispered in shock. I’d been living with him for months and I had never noticed anything, I felt stupid.
“I’m not practicing anymore and haven’t been for years.” He said shortly as he walked out of the living room.
I looked at Quinton to see him scowling at the doorway Mr. Cole had just walked out of.
What just happened? Mr. Cole seemed fine one second then upset the next. Maybe he didn’t want his secret out there either. I could relate.
Like a whisper on the wind, there one second and gone the next, fingers gently traced down the strap of my tank top.
“Come on,” Quinton murmured.
He pushed harder on my shoulder, herding me towards the door. As we walked down the hallway, following the noise, Quinton’s hand slid down until it rested against the small of my back. The heat from his palm warmed my entire back and I fought the urge to shiver while he guided me towards the kitchen where I assumed Mr. Cole was.
Quinton’s lips brushed my ear as he whispered, “He’s not gonna want to talk about magic with you so don’t push him. It’ll just piss him off. I’ll push so he doesn’t get mad at you.”
I did not like the sound of that.
Why would talking about it upset him? Magic was what made us special. Why would he stop practicing? I didn’t have a very good feeling about this and a knot formed in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t think I wanted to know if Mr. Cole had lived through some kind of tragedy. I could handle no more heartbreak. Not when it came to the people I cared about.
We walked into the kitchen in time to see Mr. Cole pour himself a glass full of amber liquor.
I swallowed past the lump in my throat as I watched him throw back the entire contents in three long gulps. I had never seen him drink before and I wasn’t so sure I could handle seeing him drink now.
Watching him chug down his drink reminded me too much of my mother. She’d drink a whole bottle of vodka and then she’d get mean.
My hand, as if it had a mind of its own, raised to my forehead. I ran my fingertips lightly over the small scar there. The last time I had been around my mother when she’d been drunk she had thrown her glass at my head and her aim had been spot on. That had been the last time she’d hurt me while intoxicated, but not the last time she’d hurt me. It happened almost every time she got drunk and I had the misfortune to be alone with her. The last time she had been completely sober. Just crazy.
Seeing Marcus Cole work towards getting drunk in the early afternoon did not sit well with me.
“I’ll take one of those, Marcus,” Quinton said from beside me.
My body tensed, and I had to fight the urge to flee from the room.
Quinton must have felt me stiffen because he crowded me. He was just suddenly in my space, all around me. He had a habit of doing that.
“What’s wrong?” He breathed into my ear.
I wasn’t going to go there with him. I hated being asked that godforsaken question. My life was chaos, always. I didn’t need to spell it out for him, he was smarter than that. And, he’d been there for most of the recent chaos.
Mr. Cole filled another glass half way full of amber liquor and slid it across the counter towards us.
Quinton wrapped his arms around my shoulders and walked me over towards the counter whe
re the half full glass sat. One arm left my shoulders, so he could pick up his glass.
“Babe…”
I shook my head. Now was not the time for him to be relentless and push me. This one time I would be unbendable, and I would not break.
“My sister was a witch,” Mr. Cole surprised me by saying. He stared into his newly refilled glass with a lost look on his face.
I leaned back into the solidness of Quinton’s body and tried to relax. I didn’t know either of them as well as I would have liked to, but I was smart enough to know neither of them would hurt me. They weren’t my mother, they weren’t going to get drunk and abuse me.