“Yeah!” We both yell at the same time.
Quinn and I look at each other for a moment before laughing.
She hops down from the table and starts rummaging through the cooler. “It has to be warm enough by now, right?”
“I’ve got no fucking clue. It’s fire, isn’t it? Aren’t pretty much all levels of fire hot enough to cook on?” Do I have to turn in my man card for not knowing how to grill? It’s not really a skill I put a lot of thought into alongside killing, threatening, torturing, and running illegal shit around the country.
We lost a lot of time, and I hope to God she never learns half of what I did while she thought I was dead, but in some ways Quinn and I aren’t that different. We both spent a lot of time following someone else’s rules, and now we have to figure out how to be our own people. Her life looked amazing from the outside but was hell behind doors, mine was a violent nightmare most of the time, but it’s amazing what you can get used to. As long as I did my job and followed the rules, I had more freedom.
Neither of us are what I’d call well-adjusted enough to know how to cook a hot dog, but maybe we can get there.
Colt jogs over. “Out of the way. I’ll do that.”
“What’s my job, then?” Quinn asks.
“Keep the drinks stocked, look pretty, and suck my—” He glances at me. “Dick.”
Quinn flushes bright red.
“For a second there I thought you were going to be respectful,” I say dryly. “Seeing as she’s my sister.”
He shrugs. “Put in the work and I’ll think about it.”
“That’s the plan.”
39
Chapter 39 - Quinn
“CanI get you something to drink?” I ask Roger. “Or I could make a pot of coffee if you want.” I put my hand on the fridge handle, still getting a little thrill out of being a person with her own apartment that can say stuff like that.
After Mom was arrested, the guys helped me clean out our old place. We boxed up her personal things and shoved them into a dark corner of a storage room in the Outlaw Sons barracks. Sinner suggested throwing a party and burning it all, but I’m not quite ready for that. Instead I’ll leave them to get musty in the dark, and if a time comes in the future where I’m ready to give them back or throw them in the ocean, well, I know where to find them.
There wasn’t much of my own I wanted to save. Shoeboxes full of little things I saved over the years to remind myself of the happy times. Programs from every theater production I’ve ever been in. Tickets if they had them. A dried flower from the first boy I everkissed, not knowing exactly how much better things would get in that particular department.
Furniture and the rest of it I listed online for free and gave out to whoever was willing to come pick it up. The mismatched things I got from the girls at the club already have happier memories associated with them than anything from before.
“Sparkling water? Anything diet? I’ve been assigned a physical therapistanda nutritionist. Both of them faint at the mention of sugar and I have to report every drop of alcohol and caffeine like I’m a recovering addict,” he grumbles.
“If you’re looking for sympathy, you’re not getting it here. I’ve had enough changes this summer. I donotwant to add looking for a new agent to the list.” I take a diet soda out of the fridge and pour it into a glass for him with some ice. “Besides, I want to keep you around for as long as possible.”
Priest comes out of the bedroom wearing nothing but a towel around his waist as he finger-combs his hair. “Hey, Q? Where’s—Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you were already here. Be right back.” He vanishes, probably to go get dressed.
“I could make that boy famous,” Roger says, completely serious. “Give me a month and he’d have half the female population eating out of the palm of his hand, and more of the men than would ever admit it.”
I laugh, imagining how that would actually go. “I think you’d find him difficult to work with, and his background check would be a little sketchy.”
“With that body? People would forgive just about anything.” Roger sighs. “But I suppose I’ll have to make do with being theagent for the new Cassandra Wright. Ladies and gentlemen, may I present, Quinn Callahan!”
“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” I scream. “I got it? Seriously?”
He nods, grin stretching practically from ear to ear. “If you want it. We can go over the contract on Monday. They don’t start filming until after Saving the World season two wraps, and it’s only three episodes, but you’re their top choice. You have a week to let them know.”
“Um, let me think. Yes?”
Cassandra Wright is the main character in a new series of gritty, queer crime novels. It’s the sort of thing Mom would never have let me audition for, and it won’t earn the same sort of money as whatever the next big studio blockbuster would, but I made my choice and I’m happy with it.
Roger and Mom weren’t wrong. Choosing to keep Priest, Sinner and Colt in my life means that I’m not everyone’s cup of tea. But that’s okay, because I don’t want to leave this city, and there are plenty of people out there who don’t mind that I don’t live a white picket fence, two point five kids sort of life. There are even quite a few people that seek me outbecauseI bring a more interesting vibe to the table.