“No. We will meet you here tomorrow morning at 9:00 a.m.”
“It’s only for the night, buddy,” Luke said to Nixon as they prepared to leave. “You’ll come home with us tomorrow.”
Nixon nodded, but no emotion showed on his face. Luke felt sick watching him leave.
“He’ll be okay. Buchanan and McMillan are good people. I asked Sheriff Dans about them,” Dylan said. “They’ll make sure he’s safe until tomorrow. One of the deputies gave me a motel recommendation so let’s go.”
“You okay to stay in Lyntacky, Quinn?” Jack asked her.
“Sure. I’ll call Dad and tell him we’ll return in the morning.”
They headed out of the clinic and got in a taxi. Minutes later, they were checking into a one-level motel. It looked like any number of them you’d see in towns all over the state.
They booked three rooms. Jack and Dylan would take one, Luke and Joe the other, and Quinn the last one.
“Sorry about this,” Luke said.
“It’s okay. No worries,” Quinn said to him as they walked to a diner.
She’d been quiet most of the day, but more so now. He wondered again if that fight had horrified her.
“Want to tell me what you’re thinking? Because I have no clue.”
They were last in their group, walking beside each other, and Luke was aware of her like he had been since she arrived back in Ryker Falls.
“I just wish you’d broken his nose.”
“What?” He stopped in the street to look at her.
“That bastard deserved a broken nose,” she snapped. “Nixon needed a hug from his father, but instead he was told that Grill didn’t want him.”
“He did deserve a hug, you’re right, Quinn, but it wasn’t right, what we did. And I think Grill’s nose made a crunching sound when I hit it, if that helps?” He smiled but kept it small, as his cheek was sore. “So chances are his nose is broken.”
She didn’t smile. “I bet that man is used to intimidating people. That show of strength didn’t hurt him to see. If he comes for Nixon again, he has to know it won’t go easy.”
“He won’t. Joe said he wouldn’t. Said he would respect the wishes of Nixon’s mother.”
“Your mother,” she said as they resumed walking.
Her fingers brushed his, and the awareness shot through him.
“I don’t think of her that way, but yes, she was my mother. Dylan told us that we needed to try to understand her more. That maybe she ran because she was suffering too.”
“It’s hard to change your mindset when you’ve thought one thing your entire life,” Quinn said. “And all of this must be bringing back memories?”
“It is, but we’ll work on it for Nixon’s sake.”
As they’d reached the diner, conversation stopped. They sat in a booth, Luke waving Quinn in before him so she was wedged between Joe and him.
“I could eat seven hamburgers,” Jack said.
“Why seven, though, and not a nice round number like ten?” Dylan asked.
“And fries. Lots of fries. Then I want pie of some kind,” Joe added.
He was hungry; it felt like forever since he’d last eaten. He liked being wedged into the booth with Quinn pressed in next to him. She smelled good, and her thigh was warm against his.
“Hi, my name’s Linda, and I’ll be your waitress.”