Crazy Eights (Stacked Deck #8) - Emilia Finn Page 0,80

together to break me. “You removed me,” I rasp out. “You left me.”

“I’m making sure you’re safe! You were dating Evan McGrady, Bubbles! That’s not just stupid, that’s suicidal.”

“And by removing me, you signed our death warrants.” I lean my head back against the car and close my eyes. “You left me.”

“I didn’t fucking leave you! Dammit, Bubbles. Listen to my words.”

“You broke my heart.” Lock it up! “You did the one and only thing that would destroy me. And now…”

“Don’t be like that, Bubbles.” Will’s voice turns softer, but panicked. Quieter, but serious. “Don’t take this so personally. This isn’t about me not wanting you around. This is me making sure you’re safe.”

“Mom didn’t want me around either, did she, Will?”

“Quinn!” he pleads.

I open my eyes and meet Jamie’s. “You said Soph couldn’t find us. That’s because I was tossed into a dumpster. I was a toddler, in a plastic bag, and she tossed me into a dumpster.”

“Quinn!” Will’s voice cracks and makes my heart bleed a little bit more. “This isn’t like that, so stop!”

“She tied the bag closed,” I tell Jamie. “Made it so I couldn’t breathe. Then she got rid of me.”

“Bubbles!”

“She didn’t want me around. So she removed me.”

“Quinn!” Will shouts. “I still want you around. I’m doing this to make sure you stay!”

“You removed me.” My voice cracks, but my tears dry up as I whisper and repeat, “You removed me.”

Jamie

In the Dumpster!

Quinn refuses to speak. She refuses to react. She refuses to look at me. She merely sits in the passenger seat and stares out into the night as we drive toward our first stop on this long-ass road trip back home.

“He’s doing the right thing,” I murmur. My face stings, my shoulder burns, and my wrist is connected to Quinn’s again. But I know now not to underestimate her. She’s going to run again, but instead of running to save Will, she might be running to kill him herself. “He’s doing what needs to be done.”

“He’s already dead,” she replies without feeling. “It’s already done.”

“He’s not dead. He has Soph on his side now, which means he has unlimited access to technology and cash. I promise, he’s gonna be fine.”

“Don’t make promises.” She turns and studies the trees whipping by outside her window. “Makes you sound stupid.”

“Makes me sound stupid?” I glance to her for a brief second. “How does that make me sound stupid?”

“Because promises are like hopes and dreams.” She lifts her knees and turns away from me.

She’s shutting me out. She’s completely removing herself from this bubble we have.

“Hopes,” she murmurs. “Dreams. Promises. They’re all stupid words that stupid people use to fool themselves into thinking the world doesn’t suck as bad as it does.” She folds her unbound hand across her stomach, and exhales. “Stop talking to me. I’m done.”

“Quinn.” I spin my hand so instead of us being bound together, I try to intertwine our fingers. “Hey. Look at me.”

“No.” She closes her hand into a fist and makes it impossible for me to hold on.

Then she closes her eyes and shuts me out.

Hours pass as we pass cars, small towns, gas stations, and fast food restaurants. I think to turn music on at some point about four hours east of the city we began in, but Quinn doesn’t react.

Once upon a time, music was like a religion for her. She couldn’t help but wiggle, she had no choice but to smile, sing, dance.

All she manages now is to meet my eyes for just a second, but hers are void, dead, flat.

“Talk to me?” I stroke her leg. Not in a creepy way, but just to prove to us both that we’re really here. “It’s been a long time, and we have a long drive ahead of us.”

“No.”

“You got your own studio.” I peek in her direction, but my eyes inevitably have to go back to the road. “That made me happy.”

“No.”

“Why does your shoulder hurt? What happened to you?”

She shakes her head, and turns further into the door.

Maybe Will and I had good intentions when we got her out of that club and city. But is it worth it if, by doing so, she’s traumatized beyond comprehension? Is this just another tantrum, or did we cause damage that neither of us will be able to fix?

“Quinn?”

I wait in the darkness, in the silence, for a full minute, and hope she’ll answer.

Though of course, she doesn’t.

“Alright, well…” I draw a deep breath. “I guess I’ll talk anyway.