I now understood the fear in his eyes. Quinton and I did not know each other very well even though we’d been through some serious situations together and I spent most of my time running away from him.
From what I had been told about Annabell, I knew she was a horrible person. The twins claimed that if you were a female witch you were treated differently than the males because there were so few of them. They’re given whatever they want and supposedly can pick whatever coven of their choosing. And every coven wants their own girl. Their own girl to share. Yes, you heard that right, they all share their girl. That way there would be no fighting over who got the girl. Female witches were precious and, I’d been told, every coven wanted one. So much so they were supposed to have no problem with sharing her amongst them. Considering I’m female and a witch, I had a bit of a problem with this.
Annabell, it seemed, had had no such problems. She’d wanted her own coven to rule over but she didn’t want a pre-made one. She wanted to pick and choose her members, stealing them away from the covens they were already a member of.
She went from coven to coven, seducing specific members with her beauty and her magic. She liked the rich ones who were willing to give her whatever she wanted. And she wanted to be some kind of queen.
It was unfortunate for my guys that she’d showed up so soon after the death of Tyson’s parents. They’d been too devastated and grief-stricken to see her for what she really was.
She got to Tyson, Julian and Damien. My Salt and Pepper twins hadn’t liked her at all. They talked to Quinton. Quinton investigated her. And, well, Annabell ended up with half of a ruined face as a result.
I sighed and looked Quinton straight in the eyes. Apparently, he needed reassurance. Not that I blamed him, I did bail on him, on them, for weeks.
“Quint, I’m not Annabell and you’re not my mother.” He snapped his mouth shut and stared at me with wide, startled eyes. It was a cute look for him, though, I’d never call him cute. He was dark, broody, sexy even, but not cute. It looked good on him. “And for some weird reason, I’m not afraid of you either. Now, forget about Chucky and forget about The Not So Beautiful Anymore Annabell. I’ve got something bigger to worry about.”
The corner of his lips curled up on one side of his face. “Just like that,” he snapped his fingers, “we forget about Annabell and the douche bag?”
I shrugged. “For now, yeah. Mr. Cole is selling the house and moving. He wants to live closer to his family. He wants to take me with him, Quint. I don’t want to lose him, but I don’t want to go with him either. But I also don’t want to be homeless. I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing. What am I supposed to be doing? I don’t have a mother anymore to make those decisions for me.” I lifted my arms and spread my hands wide. I sounded as desperate as I felt when I begged, “Tell me what I’m supposed to be doing.”
His body heat engulfed me as he surged forward and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. He pulled me into his chest and I didn’t hesitate to wrap my arms around his middle.
I inhaled deeply. He smelled like incense and spice. Like Tyson, only darker. It matched his personality.
He kissed the top of my head and whispered, “Just breathe, baby. Everything will work out how it’s supposed to, you’ll see. You’re not alone and you don’t have to figure it out on your own. We’re all here for you.”
He sounded like he really believed his words. I wasn’t so sure. It sounded like another one of their promises they were so fond of dishing out. I wasn’t entirely sure I deserved his kindness since I ran from him, ran from them all and cut them out.
“I don’t think you should be nice to me. Not when I haven’t been very nice to you these past few weeks. I mean, I even turned my phone off so that-”
One thin, scarred finger covered my lips, silencing me. How did he get those scars? I wanted to know but wasn’t brave enough to ask.
“We get it. Every one of us gets it. Take as much time as you need. We aren’t going anywhere.”
And wasn’t that the problem? Time. I was running out of it. He said to take as much time as I needed but what if I needed more than I had?
Quinton’s hand went to the side of my face and he ran the backs of his knuckles down my
cheek. Soft, gentle, barely a whisper of a touch across my skin.
My lips parted in surprise as I watched his eyes darken and fill with a heat I’d never before seen.
“What-”
“Quiet, baby,” he murmured as his eyes dropped down to my mouth.
Did he… did scary dude Uncle Quinton want to kiss me?
I think he did.
Did I want him to?
He didn’t give me the time to think about it.
He kissed me.
My lips parted in shock when he leaned in. His soft lips brushed mine and he took advantage of my parted lips, darting his tongue inside.
I gasped. It came out as a strange noise due to the fact he had his lips fused to mine as his tongue explored my mouth.