Chapter 2: It's been a long time coming…
Quinn left work earlier than usual that day. Samuel — she felt a chill running down her spine when she thought about the guy — had been their one of their very few clients that day, and Annelise had sent her home because she was closing earlier. The blonde had spent most of her day trying not to think (and cursing herself when she did) about that handsome stranger who had made her knees feel like jelly. It was so annoying to think that he could have that type of effect on her. No one had ever attracted Quinn that much, not even the guys on TV or the singer of her favorite band. But there was something about Samuel…
Maybe it was the way he stood, tall and strong, the face of a man who had seen more in his young years than anyone should have. Or his voice, husky and low. Maybe his boyish smile, something Quinn would only find out when he was leaving the place. And yet, she couldn't figure out what changed his mood; from serious and "I-hate-the-world-including-you" to all smiles and "Well-maybe-the-world-isn't-so-bad". Quinn giggled as she thought about that, and the sound echoed down the empty street she was walking, towards Amelia's friend's house.
The sound of her own laughter made her feel warm inside. She couldn't remember the last time she had laughed, giggled even; she had to admit the sound suit her well, all girly and young.
Quinn wished she could laugh more often.
Standing in front of the white, simple house of the Williams, Quinn pressed the doorbell and stood back on her sneakers. Usually she would hear Amelia's squeals when she knew she was around to pick her up, but today there was no sound. The blonde frowned, but shrugged right after, thinking that the girls were probably inside. A minute or so later, Mrs. William opened the door with a polite smile.
— Quinn? Hi, darling, what's wrong?
Quinn offered her a smile and a shrug.
— I'm here to get Amy, Mrs. William. Can you ask her to come out here?
The woman's polite smile was gone a second after, and she rubbed her hands together, trying to smile again. All people in Lima were like that; all smiles, no matter what, so the outsiders wouldn't see their broken insides. But Mrs. William looked more guilty than anything and Quinn frowned.
— What's wrong…? — She asked, feeling her mouth dry and the bittersweet taste in her tongue. She knew what was wrong. — Where's Amy?
— Well, you see honey, your father picked her up earlier today.
No. No, no, no. Shit, fuck. No. Little Quinn Fabray, one that never swore, couldn't think of enough curse names right now. She had already talked to Mrs. William about that, about not letting Amelia go with him, about waiting for her to pick the girl up. What in the world was wrong with that woman? Amelia wouldn't be going back there, she knew for sure.
Without saying a world, Quinn turned on her heel and ran down the street. The walk from the Williams' to her place would be about five minutes, but in less than three she was there, hands trembling as she turned the key and got in the house. Quinn's lungs were on fire, her throat was dry and her head wouldn't stop pulsing with the beat of her racing heart. She was scared, mostly, of what she was going to find there.
And scared she should be, because as soon she walked into the kitchen, she found a mess. There was broken glass everywhere, red wine poured on the floor and a little, tiny blonde that looked too much like their dead mother for her safety curled up in a ball, right in the corner. Quinn's heart broke, she hated herself and the world they lived. Amelia was shaking and as soon she saw Quinn, her eyes opened widely and she stood up.
Quinn didn't let her walk to her, because of the broken glass on the floor and the girl's bare feet, and she ran towards Amelia. A second later, she had her little sister wrapped around her, sobbing into her chest as Quinn rocked her back and forth. She felt the sting of salty tears in her eyes, and she knew she was crying as well. Amy couldn't see her cry, she always did her best to not let her do, but right now… Right now, it was impossible to not cry seeing how hurt and broken her baby girl was. Amelia was her world, her everything. She would never forgive herself if something happened to her.
— Amy, look at me. — She asked, and the girl did so. — Are you okay? Did he hurt you? Baby, tell me he didn't hurt you…
Amelia thought about it for a second and bit her lip, looking a lot like what Quinn could remember of their mother. She sighed.
— He yelled a lot, Quinny. And he threw bottles on the walls. And then he pushed me and... Why does he hate us, Quinny?
Quinn swallowed back a sob, holding Amelia close to her chest. The girl wasn't hurt, not physically at least. Right now, she felt like she could kill him with her own bare hands.
— I love you, isn't that enough? I love you with everything I have in my heart, little Amy.
Amelia giggled, and the older girl couldn't help but smile. That sound, it meant the world to her.
Later that day, as she put Amelia in bed after a long bath and a story, Quinn went downstairs to clean up his mess. She cleaned the kitchen and rolled her eyes at the smell of alcohol that filled everywhere. It wasn't all because of the wine, but he was probably drunk already when he did it. The thought of his dirty hands pushing Amelia away, yelling at her… Quinn felt sick and had to take a deep breath to not vomit right there.
After that job was done, she sat down on the kitchen floor and cried. Cried and cried, nonstop, sobbing and groaning in frustration. Her whole body shook and the little voice inside her head kept yelling at her to be strong, don't let him do that to them. But she wasn't so strong, she was only a child herself. Without thinking, Quinn stood up, put on a coat, locked the house and left.
Her destination wasn't clear to herself until she was confronted with the view of the bar that Russell always went. The loud music, talks and drunk laughter coming from the place made her nauseous again, but she shook it away. A minute before, she didn't know what she was doing there, but now she did — very well.
Gathering all the bravery she could manage, Quinn stepped into the place, looking around to find him. It was obvious how miserable his life was when she found the man leaning against the counter, talking to the bartender, while he swallowed back a yellow liquid. She didn't know what was that, maybe a whiskey? She almost felt sorry for her father.
That is, until she remembered finding Amelia so scared, hopeless because of him. Her view went red and she wanted nothing more than to stab him right there.
— Hey! You! — She surprised herself with the tone of her voice when she yelled that. All eyes turned to her, some drunk men catcalling the young flesh in the place. She didn't even respond to it. Quinn walked up to her father and grabbed his arm, turning him to her easily. Russell's eyes went wide; he never thought he'd see here. — You better never fucking touch my sister, you got it? Never, Russell, or I swear to God, I'll kill you with my bare hands.
The place went silent right then, except for the low jazz playing in the background. Russell took a minute to understand what was happening, but when he did, he wasn't pleased.
— What are you doing here?
— I asked you a fucking question, Russell, did you understand me or didn't you? — Quinn's heart was racing in her chest and she never felt braver than now. Her throat was on fire and she knew she would cry the moment she left the place, but right now, she had to get an answer from him. — She adores you! She loves you, and God only knows why since you're a fucked-up piece of shit, but she does. So no, you won't break her heart like you did to me. You won't hurt her like you hurt me, dad.
Russell never looked more sober in his life, even though Quinn wasn't fooled. He was drunk and he probably wouldn't remember that the next day.
— You shouldn't be…
Quinn cut him short, and she couldn't believe herself when she felt her palm colliding against his face, making a strong and loud sound.
— Stay away from her, dad. — She sobbed, not being able to control her tears any longer. She had slapped her father, she had stood up for him after years of abuse. Would that change things? Would he wake up and realize what he had been doing?
Clearly no, she found out a minute later. After recovering from the slap, Russell grabbed her arm so hard that she knew that there would be a new bruise there. Quinn winced of pain.
— Let me go. — She whispered to him, her voice weak with sobs — Daddy, please.
That didn't stop him, and Quinn knew it wouldn't. His arm lifted and she closed her eyes, waiting for the pain that would follow. What she heard, not saw, was the sound of a punch and something cracking. Quinn's eyes opened widely and she was faced with someone she thought she'd never see again.
Samuel.
— What the fuck did you…? Who are you?! — Russell yelled, his hand covering a bloody nose. — You're fucking dead, I'm gonna-
— Get the hell out of here right now if you don't want it to get worse. — The younger man said in a low tone, his voice sounding dangerous even to Quinn, who was safely hiding behind his broad back, eyes wide as she watched everything. Russell stood there, looking up at the slightly taller guy. — Go!
And with that, Russell ran out of the place, cursing the heavens for the pain he was now feeling. Quinn's heart skipped a beat when the handsome stranger from earlier turned on his heel and looked down at her with worried eyes. His bright green eyes were a deep shade now, looking almost blue. He gently touched her arm where Russell had grabbed. She winced of pain.
— Are you okay? Did he hurt you?
Quinn shook her head, not trusting her voice around him.
— Doesn't look like that. We should get you to a hospital.
The blonde snorted, shaking her head.
— It's nothing I'm not used to.
— You shouldn't be used to that.
Quinn shrugged, looking down at her hands. He was right, he knew he was, but there was nothing she could do. Maybe someday, but not now.
— So… are you following me, or? — She asked, trying to change the subject. Samuel grinned sideways and gently turned her around, resting his hand on the small of her back and leading the two of them out of the bar. Quinn didn't fit that place, and neither did him, but for some reason, he was there. When they were out in the empty street, she asked again. — So?
Samuel shook his head, not moving his hand from her back.
— No, Quinn, I was not following you. I was getting a drink, simple as that.
Quinn. She loved how her name sounded in his deep voice.
— I didn't know you can drink… — She whispered, surprised with herself when said the words.
Samuel chuckled softly, narrowing his eyes at her.
— How old do you think I am?
She shrugged, looking down at her feet again as they walked. She had no idea where they were going.
— I just turned 21 last month, to answer your question. I can drink, but I don't do it often. Thank God I decided to do so tonight.
He was so polite, so serious. He didn't sound 21, he sounded 30 at least. And Quinn couldn't help but smile softly when he thanked God for the opportunity to save her.
— Where are we going? — She asked after a couple minutes of comfortable silence. They weren't headed towards her house, and of course, he didn't know where it was.
Samuel smiled, and his mysterious smile turned out to be prettier than his boyish one.
— You will see.
For some reason, Quinn trusted the stranger she had met that morning more than she did with most people in her life.
A/N: Hi, my lovelies! I couldn't be happier with the amazing feedback I've been getting, so thank you. Sorry this chapter took some time to come out, I had a busy week but I promise I will continue posting. As for this chapter... Well, I like it a lot, so I hope you do too. Let me know and stick around for the next one!
