Give Me Strength by Kate McCarthy Page A

by. Another five
minutes and the police were there doing a brief canvas of the area,
asking questions, calling up prior assault records, and verifying
the restraining order that should still be in place.
    I was told that if they managed to pick him up,
he would do another ninety days for the violation, as if that was
supposed to reassure me.
    My phone rang.
    “Excuse me,” I murmured and answered it.
    “Quinn? You’re late!” came Mac’s
admonishment.
    My voice shook as I gave my apology.
    “Is everything okay?”
    I looked around my townhouse. It wasn’t safe to
stay here. Not now. The younger officer met my eyes. I could see
hopelessness in them, as though he saw this shit every day and it
was beating him down. Was it hard to offer nothing more than empty
words of encouragement and fill out paperwork?
    “Actually, nothing’s okay right now,” I admitted
to Mac, too tired to pretend.
    “Quinn?” Her voice lost its familiar intensity
in favour of apprehension. “What’s going on?”
    Rufus whined pitifully at the back door. “I
don’t think I can make it today. I have to pack,” I told her.
    “Pack? For what? Where are you going?”
    “My place isn’t safe anymore. I have to
find—”
    “You’re not safe?” she half yelled. “Who—”
    Mac was cut off this time, and after brief,
muffled words, Travis came on the line.
    “Quinn, are you in danger?” His words were harsh
and urgent, yet hearing them had calm washing through me, as though
his voice alone had the power to leap tall buildings in a single
bound.
    “No, I’m not. The police are here.”
    “The police? I’m on my way.”
    “No, Travis, everything’s under control—”
    “Stay on the phone,” he told me. “Give me the
keys to your bike,” I heard him order someone. Mitch’s muffled
voice replied and after a moment, the throaty purr of an engine
growled to life. “Hang on,” Travis yelled at me over the noise. The
sound of a beep and clicking noise came through. “You there?”
    “Yes, I’m here.”
    “Tell the police not to leave until we’re there,
okay?”
    They promised they would stay, and after
relaying that to Travis, I offered the officers a drink.
    “No thanks, ma’am,” said the older of the
two.
    I picked up the container of biscuits still
sitting by the front door and sat it on the kitchen counter. Prying
off the lid, I held it towards them. “Biscuit?”
    The younger man looked at the older of the two.
He shrugged and they both reached forward and took one each.
    “Quinn, you still with me?” Travis yelled in my
ear over the noise of a horn blasting and someone shouting. “You’ll
have to speak up, okay?”
    “Still here,” I replied loudly.
    “Holy shit,” the younger officer barked out.
“These are f—ah, nice biscuits, ma’am.”
    His eyes were focused on the container, so I
offered him another. He reached for one and when his responder
crackled to life, he spoke into it around a mouthful of
biscuit.
    “Keep talking to me, Quinn. Tell me what you
like to do when you’re not working,” Travis ordered.
    “Oh…” Even with the fear and panic, my belly
still fluttered just speaking to him on the phone. “Not much at all
really. I like going to the beach or the movies, or just lazing
around. Maybe that sounds boring to most people, but that’s my kind
of thing.”
    The sound of an engine gunning roared in my
ears, then I heard, “If that makes you boring, then you can bore me
stiff any day, sweetheart.”
    The officers were focused on their paperwork,
yet I still spun around to hide my flaming cheeks from their view.
Oh my God the visions that his words evoked. Was he trying to
distract me? If so, it worked. After a few more minutes of
answering his random questions, my cheeks cooling, a loud throaty
growl came thundering down the street and Travis said, “I’m
here.”
    I flew to the window and my mouth fell open, the
phone still glued to my ear despite the fact that Travis had
already