She sighed as if I’d asked the most ridiculous question. “He wouldn’t stop whining when I couldn’t get him down. It was the only way to get some quiet to think and work out how to fix this.”
“And isn’t the woman supposed to go on that thing?” I asked, hoping I didn’t have to get hands-on.
“We thought we’d try something new, but he got tangled up. It was a cheap swing. But it’s the first one I’ve ever purchased. I didn’t know how wrong it could go.”
“Remember that lingerie you bought with all the strings?”
She huffed. “It looked amazing on the model. How could I know it was impossible to put on yourself?”
“And I didn’t mind helping you.” I gestured to where I guessed Tom was hanging, one hand remaining firmly over my eyes. “This, on the other hand, is pushing our friendship.”
“You mean sisterhood,” she said and then did the unthinkable. She ripped my hand off my face. “There is nobody else I can call. You’re it.”
“I’m really going to do this, aren’t I?” I asked with a sigh.
She released my hand, and I let it fall down at my side. This would be forever burned into my brain.
“Fine. But you owe me. So how do you want to do this?”
She jumped up on the bed and waved me over. “I was thinking I could just cut him loose. But he doesn’t like it when I get too close to him with the knife, and he starts thrashing. Maybe if you hold him still, I can cut him out.”
Tom was scrawny, and I could probably hold him. Especially since he looked to be tired. “And why is the swing over your bed?”
“There wasn’t space anywhere else in my bedroom. And no way would I put it in the living room.”
“Of course,” I said and got up on the bed. “Totally makes sense.”
It only took us a few minutes to free Tom. He was a mess once we got him down. But if Quinn had just told him she was a chef, he might have had more trust in her abilities with a knife.
Guess the no talking wasn’t working out anymore. And I also guessed this would be the last time she saw Tom, judging by the way he ran out of her apartment half-dressed, carrying his pants and shoes.
“Let’s go eat. I’m hungry,” Quinn said, leaving the remains of the swing strewn across her bed.
Chapter5
Freya
I wassure someone was following me. My intuition had never steered me wrong. Well, except that one time when it told me to go out with Kevin in tenth grade. That was a colossally bad decision. Thank God for overbearing, overprotective brothers who decided to watch my every move and saved my ass from the date from hell.
It sure would be good if they were around right now. But since they lived two thousand miles away, them showing up here was pretty unlikely. They also didn’t know where I lived, making the chances of one of them coming to my rescue minus three hundred.
After spending a quiet week holed up in my apartment, I had finally ventured outside. Quinn had come over a few times, bringing pizza and cannoli with her. Since I was only ever mad at her for about two seconds, the sex-swing incident was firmly behind us as far as I was concerned. But I would never turn down her guilt gifts, especially if they included food.
I’d only ducked out of the apartment because I had no coffee left. The food Quinn brought me would last another few days. And I wouldn’t normally be out this late, but the thought of not having coffee tomorrow morning was enough of an incentive to risk it.
There were the footsteps again, this time getting closer. I pulled my keys out of my handbag and put them between my fingers. If they thought I was an easy target, they would be in for the surprise of their lives.
I’d been sparring with my brothers since I was six years old. And they hadn’t gone easy on me just because I was a girl. They’d also shown me some nifty self-defense moves that I would thank them for next time I saw them.IfI ever saw them again.
I hastened my steps and slipped around a corner, pressing myself against the wall in a crouch, waiting for whoever was following me. It didn’t take long for two big bodies to turn into the alleyway.
I immediately spotted their guns and familiar shamrock tattoos.I’m so screwed. The O’Donnells scared me as much as my mom calling a family meeting. But I wasn’t raised to be a damsel in distress. I was raised to be a fighter, and fight I would.
Even if it was likely I’d get my ass kicked. Those guys were huge.
Damn it, I should have just sucked it up and called my family. If it really was a trap to get them here, they could handle themselves.
At least I didn’t recognize their faces, which was a good sign. I knew all the major players, and if they’d shown up, I’d have been screwed six ways from Sunday.
