Quinn nudged me with his shoulder. “This is the part where you tell me what you’re doing here.”
“The post office on Oban called about a package they can’t deliver. It’s some electrical device that was sent by a big online retailer, but I never purchased anything. I’m going over to see what it’s all about.”
“Why can’t they deliver it?”
“Something about its value being over what they can put on the ferry for insurance purposes.”
Quinn’s brows furrowed. “Taran, I’ve never heard the like.”
I shrugged. “I checked, and the number that called me was the post office.”
He glanced at his watch. “I don’t need to be at the game until noon, so I’ll come with you to the post office.”
Irritated by his high-handedness, I straightened to full height to glower at him. “Oh, you will, will you?”
Quinn mirrored my stance. “Aye. Considering you’ve been broken into and almost mowed down in the space of a week, I will escort you to the post office for this weird and mysterious package.”
“Nothing has happened since. Has anything happened to you? I know Cammie hasn’t had anything else happen to her.”
“And you’d know that because you’re not avoidingher.” His tone was gentle, nonaccusatory.
Which made it worse. “Quinn … maybe if you told me your suspicions about who is behind it, it might go a long way to building some trust between us.”
He let out an exasperated sigh. “Not fair.”
“You’renot playing fair.”
“Fine.” He glanced over both shoulders to make sure there was no one else near enough to hear us. Then he leaned on the railing again, gesturing with his head for me to come closer. Despite the fact that his proximity befuddled my brain, I leaned in.
My preoccupation with how good he smelled, how handsome he was, was undone when I suddenly realized how grim his expression had grown.
“Quinn, what is going on?” I asked just loud enough to be heard over the ferry’s engine and the boat cutting through the choppy water.
He licked his lips as if they were dry and ran a hand over his beard, rubbing it like I’d seen him do when he was troubled or exasperated. “It was two days after I married Kiera,” he began.
My heart felt like it toppled out of my rib cage and into my stomach with a painful thud.
Quinn flicked me a wary look. “I have more than your forgiveness to earn, Taran. I was a selfish, fucked-up kid. Marrying Kiera was excruciating. Having to hide from her how excruciating it was, was hellish. Only Forde and Cammie really knew the extent of my depression during that time. Kiera was still pregnant, so Heather had yet to come along and give me purpose after losing you.”
Sympathy I never thought I’d feel scored through me in a burning ache. I nodded at him to continue.
“Forde suggested we go for a post-stag do since I’d refused to celebrate the impending nuptials. He thought it would help bring me out of my funk. In the end, three of us took out a small cuddy cabin cruiser we’d rented from the harbor to go fishing.” Quinn stared out toward Leth Sholas. “We took an icebox filled with beer and we did very little fishing and a lot of drinking.” He turned his head to me, and I sucked in a breath at the agony I saw in his eyes. “It was Forde, me, and Liam McCall.”
“Liam died,” I remembered. “That was the night he died?”
His hands balled into fists as he turned back toward the water. “We stopped not far from shore on the northwest side, got shit-faced, and passed out in the boat. Every one of us. Forde woke up to the sunrise and realized Liam wasn’t on the boat. He woke me and called for help on the radio. The search went on for weeks.” Quinn exhaled a shaky breath. “Taran … it’s a kind of hell not knowing what happened to someone you care about. If he was in trouble, if he fell overboard, surely, he would have shouted for help? Did he and we were too drunk to hearhim? We’ll never know. We can only torture ourselves with the unknown. And then, of course, there’s Forde’s theory.”
I’d reached out to cover Quinn’s arm with my hand, horrified for him that he’d gone through that. Liam had always been a nice kid, quiet but gentlemanly toward me. I’d always thought he kind of hero-worshipped Quinn.
Quinn stared down at my hand on his arm and as I lifted it to let go, he quickly covered it with his own. His calloused palm was rough against the top of my hand, his long fingers cool as they tightened around mine.
Goose bumps prickled on my skin and my breathing faltered as awareness rioted through me.
Our eyes met and held and everything else disappeared around us.
“Forde,” Quinn finally forced out. “Forde wondered if it was deliberate.”
I gaped, shocked at his meaning. “Suicide?”
