Crazy Eights (Stacked Deck #8) - Emilia Finn Page 0,65
glass, and often amasses a crowd of pedestrians walking by. “My name is Victoria, and you’re toeing the line that borders on sexual harassment.”
“Your name was then Eloise.” He follows me into the hall. He’s the lion, and I’m the idiot who left herself wide open in a prairie. “Eloise is such a pretty name. Not a boy-girl name, but it was your real middle name, wasn’t it?”
He grabs my arm when I refuse to stop walking, and slams me against the brick wall with a painful thud. “Quinn Eloise. So the next time you needed a name change, you kept Eloise. You’re loyal, so even when you want to run away, you can’t help but hold onto the things you consider special.”
“You’re wrong.”
I arch my head back when he leans in and… sniffs me? His nose glides along the warm skin behind my ear. His lips feather along the sensitive skin of my throat.
“You’re wrong, Jamie. My name is Victoria.”
“Yeah, Victoria the Virgin.” He scoffs. “I’ve heard of her. Not sure your boss has been told the whole truth, though.” He presses his hardened crotch against my stomach until I whimper. “Not a virgin, are you, Prima?”
“Don’t call me that,” I hiss. “And you don’t know any damn thing about me. I’m only going to ask you once more to leave, after that—”
“What?” he challenges. “What are you gonna do?”
“I’ll slice you open from ballsack to sternum with my pocket knife.”
He laughs, low and deep in his throat. “See, while your threat is, indeed, a threat, it’s also an admission of guilt. Because that girl I once knew, the scrapper from the ghetto, she also brought knives to fistfights. Old habits die hard, huh?”
“Obviously.” I shove him off again, and escape the hall into what I guess could be called my office. In reality, it’s a storeroom for random shit and outgrown shoes. “There was a boy I once knew, and he didn’t know how to take a hint either. Old habits, huh?”
He follows me into the room and leans against the doorframe with an arrogant smile. “I think you’re confused about who you’re supposed to be. You say you’re not her, but you call me Jamie. You say your name is Victoria, but your eyes grow darker, more beautiful, when I call you Quinn.”
“That’s not my name!” I shout. “Stop calling me that. Dammit, Jamie!”
I drop into my chair, because despite my rage, my anxiety, my bone-deep hunger to walk into his strong arms and lean for just a moment, the pain in my heart reduces me to a weak mess. I can’t stand all on my own anymore. I can’t look him in the eyes and pretend like I’m some kind of victim in this little scenario.
“I’m sorry I lied to you,” I whisper. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
“When?” he demands on an angry hiss. “Then, or now?”
“Always,” I choke out. “I’m sorry for ever hurting you. I’m sorry for ever meeting you, because if I hadn’t, then you wouldn’t have wasted four years looking for someone who doesn’t exist.”
“You do exist,” his voice snaps like a whip. “You fucking exist, Quinn! You’re right here in front of me, tall and strong, beautiful and real. So don’t you dare try to feed me the same bullshit everyone has been feeding me for four years. Maybe Cameron wasn’t your name, and maybe Cameron had a massive secret she felt obligated to keep from me, but you exist!”
“Why are you here?” I sit back in my chair and sigh.
I’m exhausted. I’m weary. I’m scared, and need to run home to find Will and make sure he’s okay. If Jamie could find me, then who’s to say the cops can’t? But below the exhaustion and the fear is a girl who fell in love. And for just one moment, one single moment, I wish I could hit pause on the world and step into his embrace and take comfort.
“Why didn’t you tell me you needed help?” Returning my sigh as though he feels my change of emotion, Jamie steps into the room and crouches down on the opposite side of my desk so he rests his arms on the tabletop. He purposely places the desk between us to give me the space I asked for, but he comes down to my level, and makes it personal. “I could have helped you, Quinn. I would have helped you.”
“You can’t help me.” Swallowing, I bring the heels of my hands up and