Over the Line Read online

  “Let the record reflect that the victim showed the board the scars from injuries sustained,” Commissioner Spector said. “Evidentiary photos of these injuries exist in the trial materials.”

  Quinn took a deep breath and continued. “He was carrying a jar of acid from car batteries. As a mechanic, he had easy access, and he knew from experience what it would do to my skin. Paramedics had to wait for over an hour before they could treat me because they didn’t know what exactly I’d been burned with, and it had to be neutralized on-scene by a hazmat crew. I spent two months in the University of Wisconsin Hospital Burn Center in Madison, and Cooper stayed with a state-appointed guardian at the Ronald McDonald House until I was able to leave.” That part was hard to talk about, because she had been forced by her injuries to rely on state assistance just to survive for a long time after the attack.

  “I suffered from deep partial thickness and full thickness burns. If my right eye hadn’t teared up right away I would have lost it. I lost the nipple on my right breast during surgery the first day. I’ve had three skin-graft surgeries, the most recent three months ago. The skin will continue to shrink and contract for the rest of my life, which will eventually make it hard for me to move and function. I will need to have many more surgeries.” She held the jacket open a little longer, turning toward Tracy and Gary for a moment before zipping it up, giving them a good look at what their precious boy had done. “These wounds will never go away, and neither will the emotional damage this assault has done to me. The only thing I have to be grateful for is that Cooper was not with me the day of the assault. He was at his day care, thank God.”

  Commissioner Spector, who bore a striking resemblance to Gomer Pyle, nodded as she sat back down, then straightened his glasses and asked, “Do you believe that Mr. McDonald would still be a threat to you if he were released?”

  “I have no doubt he would come after me again, or my son,” she said. “I believe he should never have been allowed to make a plea deal, to be honest, because the only reason he plead guilty at all was for the possibility of seeing the light of day someday.”

  The board members considered this for a moment, their faces impassive, revealing nothing of what they were thinking. Quinn regretted speaking so harshly but was glad she’d spoken her mind. “How much of the time you spent at the shelter did you spend in fear for your life?” Elsa Grande asked.

  “There wasn’t a moment that went by that I had peace. I didn’t sleep a full night through the whole time I was there. When he was arrested, I should have been able to rest easy but then I was in the hospital with my injuries so I still wasn’t able to feel normal.” Lightheaded, she wished she’d had time for breakfast before the hearing.

  The board members jotted down notes, then Spector addressed the room. “We will deliberate and make our decision based on the statements made today. In the meantime, the prisoner is to be returned to his cell.”

  As Mitch was led out of the room by the guards, he stuck his tongue out at Quinn in full view of the commissioners and waggled it at her. The parole board members scribbled more notes, Elsa shaking her head, then they retired to another conference room with their case folders. Quinn’s stomach rumbled and she crossed the hall to a bank of vending machines. She fed a dollar bill into one and chose a granola bar that looked less radioactive than the other options. From another machine, she got a bottle of water.

  “How is Cooper?” Tracy asked behind her, making her jump. At Quinn’s glare, the older woman apologized, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “If you cared about your grandson, you wouldn’t be here trying to free the man who tried to kill his mother,” Quinn said. She attempted to walk away but heard Tracy’s heels clicking along behind her and turned around. “If you’d showed any sort of remorse or regret over what happened to me, you could still be a part of his life. I don’t have anything else to say to you. Stop following me or I’ll have you restrained.”

  Tracy stopped in her tracks. To her credit, she looked heartbroken. Quinn felt a momentary stab of regret at her words, but it was an easy impulse to quash when the other woman was only here to free her monster of a son.

  Quinn took up a spot at a window, watching traffic on the distant freeway as she nibbled at her granola bar. If she ate too fast, she could get sick, so she took tiny bites until her stomach started to settle. Sips of water rehydrated her after the morning’s activities.

  The wait for the parole board to return seemed like it was never going to end, and listening to Gary and Tracy chat across the room as if they hadn’t a care in the world only further eased Quinn’s earlier guilt over shutting them down. After what seemed like hours, the doors to the sequestering chamber opened and the board members filed in. Mitch was led back in by the guards, this time showing much better behavior and barely looking at Quinn as he took his seat.

  “As you all know, we are here on the matter of State of Wisconsin v. McDonald. It is the decision of this board, based on the behavior of Mr. McDonald, inmate number four-one-one-six-seven-eight-two and testimony by the victim Quinn Hadley, as well as the lack of remorse displayed by the imprisoned, that parole be denied in this case. The imprisoned is to be remanded to Beecham Correctional Facility pending a future parole hearing, to be scheduled one year from today.” He whacked a gavel down on the table and the board members stood and filed out of the conference hall.

  Quinn took a deep breath as Mitch was led back to the hall that would take him back to his cell block. If she hadn’t been watching she would have missed it, but just as he crossed the threshold, he looked into her eyes and cast her a smile, the expression that of a spoiled little boy with a secret. A chill swept up her spine, and his smile widened as he saw her reaction. She left the prison with a sick feeling in her stomach, a desperate fear and anticipation, something telling her this wasn’t over by a long shot.

  CHAPTER 2

  Gabriel flopped down on his couch with his full weight, causing a spring to twang. He almost raised his hand to flip off the piece of furniture, but couldn’t find the energy to do even that. His knee throbbed, angry at him for running an extra mile before coming home. By the time he’d rounded the last corner of the last lap, he’d been hobbling. It would swell overnight despite the ice bath he’d taken, and tomorrow he’d be lucky if he could move it at all.

  He heard the front door open, then the pounding footsteps of his best friend, Micah Tremaine- a hulking offensive lineman with skin the color of dark chocolate and a quick smile that took up most of his face. He gave Gabriel one of those grins now, lifting up a brand new copy of the latest Call of Duty video game. “Grabbed it this morning before practice. Boy, are you ready for some ass-whoopin’?” He ripped the plastic off the case and popped the disc into his big hand.

  Micah moved around Gabriel’s house like he owned the place. The two had been friends since they were teammates at the University of Colorado Denver. After so many years of friendship, they were more like brothers.

  “As long as I don’t get an ass chewing like I did in practice today,” Gabriel groaned, squeezing his knee with his fingertips. It felt like a zip lock bag full of hot water, and he knew there would be no avoiding an ice pack tonight.

  “Coach on you again?” Micah asked, slipping the game disc into the Xbox.

  “Nothing else anyone can do. He gave me a month to improve by twenty percent or he’s going to put me on reserve. Might even cut me.”

  Micah tossed him a controller and they waited as the game loaded. There was a thoughtful look on Micah’s face as he considered the situation. “I don’t think he’ll cut you.”

  “Well, I’ve run myself out of options. I’ve tried everything I can think of. Did I tell you I even went to an acupuncturist a few weeks back?”

  “How’d that go?” Micah asked. The game was done loading and within a few minutes the two of them had made their first enemy kill.

  “Jury’s still out,” Gabriel said. “I think it did take down some of the swelling, but I need to make it stronger at the same time I’m letting it rest.”

  “My girl, Donnelle, she does yoga a few days a week,” Micah said, and at first Gabriel thought he was joking. “She had a knee replacement after a car wreck when she was in high school—”

  “So, six months ago?” Gabriel interrupted, ribbing his friend for his penchant for younger women.

  “Man, shut up! She is twenty-three, if you must know,” Micah said, blasting a tank with a loud boom through the surround sound. “Anyway, smart-ass, she said it always bothered her until she started doing yoga. Girl’s got muscles on her muscles, man.”

  “You saying I should take up yoga?” Gabriel asked, still thinking his buddy couldn’t be serious.

  “Worth a shot, isn’t it?”

  Gabriel had to concede the point, and throughout the rest of the game he tried to shake the idea and couldn’t. “Where does Donnelle the Infant go for her yoga class?”

  Micah punched him in the arm for the jab, and Gabriel laughed. “Her instructor’s name is Quinn. Don’t know her last name, but I could ask. Donnelle says she knows her stuff, real strong, good with injuries. I could get the number for you.”

  Gabriel nodded, hoping he looked noncommittal enough about taking on an exercise routine he’d always thought of as silly and feminine. He didn’t want his friend knowing just how desperate he’d gotten although he probably already understood.

  “You pick on me for my girl? You’re gonna fit right in at a yoga studio with them long, golden locks of yours, pretty boy,” Micah said with a laugh, tugging on the knot of blonde hair at the base of Gabriel’s neck.

  “Fuck you,” Gabriel said. The two focused on the game at hand until Gabriel’s stomach started grumbling.


  Micah ordered pizza and the two continued to play until it came. Gabriel saved the game and shut the console down and Micah got the door for the delivery driver, returning to the living room with two pizza boxes.

  “Where’d you meet this new girl? And whatever happened to Aspen?” Gabriel asked as he grabbed a slice of his pepperoni pizza. “Last time you were over, you brought that hot exotic dancer from Germantown.”

  “Ah, you know,” Micah said, which usually meant he got bored with her. He took a bite of his pineapple and ham pie. “I met Donnelle at Piggly Wiggly. We both reached for a can of beans at the same time.”

  “Still got Aspen’s number?” Gabriel asked, smiling over his pizza at Micah. His knee twinged and he grunted at the pain.

  “You don’t need a dancer’s number, dumbass,” Micah said, laughing. He took his phone out of his pocket to text Donnelle. He ate while he waited for the reply and when it came he held the phone out so Gabriel could see the name and number on the screen.

  “Quinn Hadley,” Gabriel said as he grabbed his phone off the armrest. He added the name and number to his phone’s contact list. “That’s a hot name. Is she hot?” he asked, a smile on his lips.

  “Psshhh!” Micah said, shaking his head. “I don’t know. Donnelle said she’s pretty. She could look like a mud fence and you’d still need to sign up for her class.”

  “You’re not wrong,” Gabriel said with a sigh.

  Micah stood and picked up the pizza boxes, sliding leftover slices into one box and walking it to the fridge. Gabriel heard the other box crush into the garbage can and Micah strode back into the living room.

  “Thanks for coming by, and for the number.” Gabriel started to stand, but Micah pushed him back into the couch with a big hand to the shoulder.

  “Take it easy, and put some ice on that,” he said, holding out a hand to shake Gabriel’s. “Don’t need that knee getting any worse.”

  “No problem, Doctor,” Gabriel said as Micah turned to leave. “I’ll see you next week, same time?” They’d met for dinner and video games every Monday since they were in college.

  “Yeah,” Micah said, waving over his shoulder as he headed out the door.

  Gabriel stared at his phone, contemplating calling Quinn. After a few moments he took a deep breath, then dialed her number.

  Quinn had just put her car in park outside her apartment complex when she heard the William Tell Overture, her ringtone for unknown numbers. “Quinn Hadley,” she answered, slipping the phone between her ear and her shoulder while she gathered up her gym bag and purse. The voice on the other end was deep and soft, and the ambient noise in her neighborhood almost drowned it out. “Please hold for a moment so I can get inside. I can hardly hear you.”

  Out of habit, she looked out for any of the dangers of walking through a parking lot alone in a not-so-good neighborhood. She hurried into the building, her bag weighing her arms down as she struggled to get up the rickety stairs to her door. She had to make sure she missed the right side of the fourth step, as it rocked and on more than one occasion had sent her bouncing into the wall.

  “Sorry about that,” she said to the man on the phone. “What can I do for you?”

  The voice came back to her, the soft tones as warm as melted caramel. “My name is Gabriel Miller, and I’m interested in taking up yoga.”

  “Well, I’m your girl,” she said, opening her door and slipping inside. The name rang a bell, but she couldn’t place it. She secured the deadbolt and locked the door. “I offer two classes a day, five days a week, and I also provide private lessons—”

  “That’s what I want,” he said too quickly and she had to stifle a laugh. It wasn’t the first time she’d been asked to provide lessons to a man who was embarrassed to take yoga in front of other people.

  “All right,” she said, still amused. She released her bags with a thump on the linoleum in the kitchenette. Putting him on speaker, she pulled up her calendar app and looked at the time slots she had available. “I’m available weekdays at eight a.m.”

  “That would be perfect! Can you take me on tomorrow?”

  “Absolutely. I would suggest beginning with two days a week. If you want to do one-hour sessions on Tuesdays and Thursdays that would work well to start. We can always work up from there once you’ve got the basics, or you can join a regular class.” When he agreed, she quoted him her rate for private lessons. “You can pay me through my website or with cash on arrival tomorrow. I can text you a link at this number, if that’s alright.”

  “Okay,” he said, and she could hear the skepticism in his tone. “Is there anything I need to bring?”

  “Nope, I have all the equipment you need to get started. You’re welcome to borrow it until you decide whether you’ll continue with yoga. I just need to ask a few questions and give you some prep instructions, so we both know what we’re getting into,” she said. “Can I get your current height and weight?” With a flick of her thumb, she turned the speaker off and put the phone back to her ear.

  “I am currently six-foot-two and weigh about two hundred and sixty pounds,” he answered.

  Her eyes widened, and then the name finally clicked. “Gabriel Miller, I should have known that,” she said with a laugh.

  Gabriel being drafter by the Marauders had been huge news when he was drafted, and he’d become a local superstar. It didn’t hurt that he was one of the best looking players in the league. Tall with long blonde hair, pale green eyes, chiseled features, and muscles that made every straight woman and gay man’s heart go pitter-patter. He made the covers of magazines normally frequented by models and movie stars. Quinn found herself looking forward to tomorrow now that she realized who was on the phone.

  “Well, that lets me skip some of the other questions I generally ask. You’re in great shape, probably a bit limited as far as flexibility due to muscle development, but overall that’s an excellent base to start with. What is your reason for wanting to incorporate yoga into your routine?” This was a necessary question, but also one born of her own curiosity. Football players participated in rigorous exercise regimens, what could he need with another discipline?

  “I blew my knee last year and it’s not recovering as well as I would like. There’s a good chance I could get cut from the team.”

  “Well, I am sorry to hear that.” Her words were honest. She was a lifelong Marauders fan who would hate to see him forced out of the league.

  “I’ve tried everything else I can think of.”

  “I understand. I’m glad I can get you in so soon. I’ll look you over tomorrow when you come in, and we’ll see what I can do to help,” she said. “Private lessons are the way to go when you have a specific concern, anyway. It lets me create custom routines and flows for you to optimize your results. I’ll do everything I can to help you with your knee.”

  “Great,” he said, still sounding skeptical but at least he hadn’t changed his mind. “Anything else I need to know?”

  “Come on an empty stomach, and bring a bottle of water.”

  “Can do. I guess I’ll see you at eight?”

  “See you then, thanks for calling.” She ended the call and added his information to her contact list. Booking a private yoga lesson with a professional football player made everything else that had happened today seem just a little bit better. After a morning spent dealing with every unpleasant feeling she’d ever had in her adult life, here was some pleasantness to help balance out the universe. Glancing at the clock, she realized she had some time to herself before Cooper would be home from practice. Taking advantage of the rare occasion, she lay down on the couch and closed her eyes for a quick nap.

  The door swung open with a bang sometime later, waking Quinn from her nap. Cooper walked in, all teenage sulk, with too-long brown hair covering up one of his blue eyes in a dramatic swoop that started over his left ear. Quinn sat up, her heart hammering in her chest in surprise. She hadn’t intended to fall asleep so deeply, but it’d been a damn long day. At fourteen, Cooper was already four inches taller than her and outweighed her by twenty pounds. He dropped his football pads on the floor by the door, where they fell over.