QUINN

I'm debating if I need to call an ambulance or not because I think my brain has fried to a crisp at the same time my heart is flying around like a caged bird.

Since when does someone put me first? I don't know if I should trust it or not. Like, that's just not a thing. It's never been a thing.

Even when Dylan was around, he still did what he needed to do for himself before coming to anyone's side. Always said that sometimes you need to be selfish.

Does Cash even have a selfish bone in that ginormous body of his? Is he even real? Maybe I snorted some bad coke and have been imagining his existence this entire time. A twisted fever dream, maybe?

Mama's revolted face looks about right. That stupid stain in the carpet wouldn't be in my dream since I have such a deep hatred for its existence. And my organs wouldn't be throwing a rager, making me nauseatingly uncomfortable.

Cash is friggin real, everyone. I'd punch him just to verify it if he was still within range, but he's gone. I'll just have to trust myself on this one for now.

"How involved are you with this boy?" Mama grinds her teeth as she inspects me.

In my world, I don't get to bask in the good for too long. But I want to, damn it!

"Mama, don't start. If you don't have anything nice to say, I don't want to hear it."

What in tarnation was that? Was that my voice?! I said that out loud?

Judging by her slack jaw and skyrocketing eyebrows, I'd say I certainly did. I just talked back to her for the first time in my entire life. I don't think either one of us knows what to make of that.

"Um...please?" I add, hoping manners will ease the blow a bit.

She studies me as intently as she does with the alcohol content percentage on a bottle of liquor. After taking a swig of vodka, she sets it down on the coffee table with too much force. Her strides are a tad wobbly, but she ends up standing in front of me.

Her palm caresses my cheek, but it doesn't feel comforting and warm like when Cash does it. I swallow hard and a clammy sensation develops on my hands.

"Does he make you happy?" She rasps, not out of emotion, but because she smokes too much.

I nod, still too startled by her cold touch to open my mouth and say real words.

"Does he treat you well?"

Another nod.

"Good."

She serves me a tightlipped smile and backs away, providing me with my own breathing space once again. That's it? No physical altercation? No snarky remarks?

"Enjoy it while it lasts." She sings over her shoulder, going back to her spot at the kitchen table.

My throat tightens. I am enjoying it. But will it last? Will it hurt when it ends? Because it will end. Right?

I...I think I might already be in too deep. I started off splashing around in the kiddie pool, but I feel like I'm cannonballing off the high dive over the deep end now. What if I sink?

My tingling legs carry me over to the chair across from mama and I sit down with the grace of a drunken toddler. My fingernails dig into the cheap wood varnish, chipping it away.

"I love you, mama. You know that, right?"

"Of course." She rolls her eyes. "We're all we've got, Quinny. If we didn't love each other, we'd have nothing left."

No, you'd have nothing left. I'm good.

Now there's a thought I didn't think I'd ever have again after Dylan died.

"If you love me, can you please respect my relationship with Cash? I've never..." Oh jeez, she's not going to like this part. "I've never had someone treat me the way he does. And maybe it won't last, but it feels really good to have someone see me again."

I can't even look her in the eyes as the words spill out. My mouth has gone rogue. I have no control over that sucker.

"You think I don't see you?" She cracks her glass as she slams it down, and my hand automatically shifts towards my phone. "You'd do well to remember that blood is thicker than water, sweetheart."

That phrase is one of my biggest pet peeves.

"The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb." I correct her, all emotion stripped from my voice.

"What? You're always going off on stupid tangents." She waves me off and it makes me irrationally angry.

No, you don't see me at all. Not anymore.

"The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb. That's the real saying, mama. It has the complete opposite meaning of what you're saying." While my fingernails continue to drag across the table leg, my other hand grips my phone.

She shakes her head in a way that makes me feel stupid for even speaking, but then I see her eyes starting to water.

I hurt her. And that's a double-edged sword because it hurts me too. I feel like something is ripping me apart from the inside right now.

"I'm sorry." Shame coats my words. "I just really like him."

"I can see that." She snaps before smoothing out her tone. "I just don't want to see you get hurt, Quinny. It's happened far too often for my liking."

And you've played a role in that, too.

But I don't say that because this is one of the rare moments of her showing an inkling of compassion. Smothering that flame would be foolish.

"I know. But you should know that I don't allow myself to get hurt. Not anymore."

She lays her hand in the center of the table, palm up, so I place mine in hers. When she squeezes, I finally meet her eyes. They're softer than earlier.

"We can't choose to not feel hurt, baby. If he hurts you, you'll feel it. I know you felt it all those other times, too. You're a beautiful young lady with so much to offer but offering yourself will always come with consequences. I just hope you'll be able to handle them."

"Maybe...maybe it doesn't have to come with consequences this time." I whisper hopefully.

"Oh, Quinny. You love him, don't you?"

Being capable of loving him would require the presence of the forbidden organ. But I do still feel...gross heart things. Like a phantom organ instead of a phantom limb. Even though it's not inside my chest anymore, I still feel it sometimes.

My nose wriggles while I try to find the best response and mama giggles.

"Such a stubborn girl." She says with a smile. "Love will destroy you. Let it. It's worth it."

Is the world coming to an end? Is this the apocalypse? Am I in an alternate reality? Did my penis-hating, maneater mama just tell me to fall in love?

"Do you need more alcohol?" I blurt out in a frenzy, still completely and utterly confused by this conversation.

She laughs again and pulls her hand away.

"Why don't we go sit in the living room? I'll braid your hair, if you want."

Mama hasn't done my hair since I was a little girl. My phantom heart swells and deflates and repeats until I think I might pass out.

I nod eagerly and we head toward the couch. I sit on the floor between her legs as she brushes through my rebellious waves with her fingers.

I could fall asleep to this. It's almost like I entered some kind of time warp and I'm back in my childhood home. The voices on the TV fade as my eyes flutter with every memory I relive in my head.

The white curtains flutter around the open window while rain taps rhythmically against the sidewalk outside. Dylan sits on the floor opposite me, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he cheats to win at Go Fish, all while mama pulls my hair into a braid. His laughter mixes with the distant thunder. Daddy steps through the front door, drenched, and plants a kiss on mama's head, declaring my beauty before the braid is even complete.

Mama is done with my hair all too soon and I move up to the cushion beside her. She holds my hand as we silently watch whatever sitcom is playing on the screen.

"I can't wait to see you graduate." Her groggy mumble fills my soul as she fights sleep.

"You'll be there?"

"Of course. I wouldn't miss it for the world, baby."

Despite all the changes she's been through over the years, she's never let me down when it comes to the big stuff. Every event, she's been there. Mama has been present for every milestone in my life, even when I thought she wouldn't remember.

My cheeks hurt from smiling. When I hear mama snoring, I text Cash. He shouldn't only expect to hear from me when things go bad. I don't want to only bring doom and gloom.

Quinn: Calm down, old man! Everything is fine!

Quinn: Just wanted to tell you to take your time. And that I think your kind of cool, I guess.

Bearaffe: You sure? Nothing is on fire? Both shoes are still accounted for? Nobody's dead or injured yet?

Quinn: All parties are alive and both shoes have passed roll call.

Bearaffe: Sooo...shits on fire?

Quinn: Your man-berries will be on fire if you keep pushing me.

Bearaffe: Man-berries...

Quinn: Yours are pretty...until I burn them.

Bearaffe: Alright, I'm tapping out of this conversation. I don't know if I should feel flattered or emasculated.

Quinn: I miss you.

Oh jeez, why did I write that? It's been like...an hour. You can't miss someone you just saw.

Quinn: I miss your body***

Quinn: I miss Oreos*** Damn autocorrect!

Bearaffe: Ah, autocorrect. Of course.

Bearaffe: But the Oreos miss you too. They'll be done doing Oreo business at the club soon.

I smile, imagining a bunch of rogue Oreos with little arms and legs doing shady stuff at Shadow. Then they all pile into the truck to come pick me up. Jeez, how awesome would that be?! Well, until they're all screaming for mercy as I eat them.

**************

The annoying sound of clinking glass wakes me up and I'm slightly dazed as I try to take in my surroundings. Mama is passed out at the other end of the couch. So, who the hell is in the kitchen?

With cheetah stealth, I climb to my feet without making a sound, prepared to sneak up on the intruder. Luckily, the broom I was sweeping with earlier is next to the couch. I plan to use it as a weapon, just like how Tanya taught me. No buttholes are safe.

Sneaking around the sliver of wall that separates me from the burglar, I raise the broom and ready myself for the lunge.

"Put the broom down, Quinn." Cash demands over his shoulder while standing at the sink.

The makeshift staff falls from my hands and rattles against the floor. He really needs to stop sneaking up on me like this. I'm going to obliterate him one day.

He continues finishing up the dishes I didn't get to earlier.

"Cash!" I hiss, trying not to wake mama. "Why didn't you tell me you were on your way back?!"

"I texted you, but I think you were sleeping." He responds, his back still to me.

My ears pick up on something that I feel like I wouldn't usually notice. His voice sounds almost the same, but there's an undertone of distance in it. I'm not sure if I've ever seen Cash stressed out before, but I have a gut feeling that's what's going on right now.

Maybe the sex synced our bodies up in some weird way. That must be how he knew I was about to sneak attack without even turning around. And how I'm hearing the very subtle difference in his tone. That's the only logical explanation.

My palms start rubbing against my jeans, unsure of what to say. I care about whatever's going on with him, but I'm not usually one to address these types of things. I distract and run and avoid until the issue disappears. I don't think I can do that right now, though.

"Do you uh...wanna go for a walk around the campus or something?" I ask nervously.

"Gotta get back to work after I drop you off at home." He sounds unhappy about this as he shakes his head to decline my offer.

"Call out sick."

"I was just with Max. He knows I'm not sick."

"Do it anyway." I suggest with a hardened tone. "Stop working yourself to death."

"I can't just bail out on –"

"If you keep arguing with me, I swear I will hand you over to Tanya, Cash. And trust me, you won't like what she has planned for you. Don't test me."

His shoulders stiffen and he peeks over at me as I prop my hands on my hips. The corner of his mouth turns up before he shuts the faucet off and makes his way over to me. His hands cover mine and he stares down at me like I'm the only thing that exists in this world.

"You'd let her steal my dick for her collection?" He asks, astonished.

"Damn right I would. Unless you call off work."

"Guess I don't have a choice then." His hands move to cup my cheeks, leaning down to kiss me.

When I climb into Cash's truck, there's a pack of Double Stuf Oreos sitting right in the middle of the bench seat. My eyes flick up to his side profile as he turns the key, the engine rumbling to life.

"You got me Oreos." I say tenderly, still flabbergasted.

He nods instead of speaking, furthering my suspicion that something is wrong.

Whatever you need, I'll get it done.

His words ring through my head until I feel the urge to follow his lead. I want to give him what he needs too.

"Cash, I need something."

"Hmm?" He asks absently.

"I neeeed yoooouuu....to tell me what's wrong."

His hand flexes around the wheel for a quick second and he huffs out a laugh. He knows I have him beat.

Check mate!