Sorry for the late update, I've been busy preparing for my finals this upcoming week and I've been sick on top of that. So, not fun. Good news is that my spring break is soon and I'll be able to update more often. And for those of you reading Catching the Storm I'll try to get an update in soon, but so far I've only had the time to write up the update for Password Incorrect.
Again, I apologize. And hope you all enjoy!
Quinn takes a seat next to me on the couch and picks up a pair of glasses from the coffee table. She slides them over her eyes as she pulls back my shirt from the wound on my shoulder. She makes a face.
"So?" I question jokingly. "am I going to live?"
She gives me a flat look. "I think you're lucky it hasn't gotten infected so far," She grumbles as she pulls a first aid kit onto her lap. "Whoever tended to your wound only seemed concerned with stopping the bleeding."
"Yeah well, John was debating whether or not he wanted to kill me," I tell her.
She shakes her head. "I don't want to know who he is. I didn't hear that name. I didn't hear anything."
"Do you even have a medical degree?" Ryder suddenly questions as he watches Quinn.
Quinn nods. "I was a nurse for a while," She says absently. "I'm an artist now, but I keep up with everything I need to know. Plus, my parents and grandparents were all doctors. They made sure I know what I'm doing. For minor stuff at least."
She continues to dig through the first aid kit. "Besides, you have no idea how often I tear myself up with my artwork. Sometimes I like to do woodworking, sometimes metal working. If you're not careful well . . . I've got plenty of scars to show for it. I always take care of myself though. I've never had an injury that has forced me to actually go to a hospital."
I notice Ryder watching her cautiously as she tends to me. Like the same way he was looking at Sarah. Like she could attack at any moment. Quinn notices it too.
"Take a seat," She tells him. "Ask me whatever you want before you glare a hole through my head."
Ryder glares at the back of Quinn's head as she stays focused on my wound. "I wasn't glaring at you."
Quinn doesn't even have to turn around. "You are now."
Ryder takes a seat. He watches her for what feels like an eternity more before finally speaking up. "Nicky says you're not a criminal."
Quinn smiles even though he can't see her face. "And judging by your tone you don't believe her."
"You're living out here, on your own, in the middle of nowhere. As if you don't want to be found."
She looks over her shoulder at him briefly. "I like being on my own. Don't get me wrong, I like people. I enjoy socializing, but I need time to myself. This is where I can go by myself." She shrugs as she wipes something across my wound. I hiss out a breath as it stings.
"And you're not entirely wrong," She says as she starts rewrapping the wound. "I don't want to be found."
Ryder's eyes narrow in her direction. "Why?" He asks. "In trouble with the law."
She smiles again. "Yes," She admits. "But not in the way you think."
Ryder crosses his arms over his chest and glares at her when she says nothing else. "Care to explain?"
"Ex-husband's law enforcement," She says as she finishes wrapping my shoulder. "He has resources, and I'm pretty sure you can guess the rest. Bad marriage. Drunk husband. Domestic violence. None of which ever ended well for me. Charges against him were always dropped."
YOU ARE READING
I can't keep the smile off my face as I take my seat on the plane. I slide my bag under the seat and lean back. I close my eyes and let a blissful smile grace my face. He said I wouldn't be able to run. As if. I'm vaguely aware of someone taking the...