The Bold and the Beautiful: A Tale Of Demons And Undying Love.

Chapter Thirty Six: Quinn

            I was forever grateful to have a good hearted son like Wyatt. He didn't turn me in to the police as he said he was going to. He let me go. He gave me another chance. Most people wouldn't have did that. Not even Eric, had he knew that I was trying to kill that son of a hog, Liam. Wyatt loved me and I love him. Though he threatened to call Lieutenant Baker on me if I didn't stay away from that Steffy and Liam, which he ended up doing anyway, he still cared. The least I could do for my son was to obey his wishes and leave Los Angeles for good. To leave Eric forever? For Wyatt's sake and his sake alone I will do just that.

       I picked up the skirt of my sapphire blue dress as I stepped into the muddy water that would take me home. I had to swim my way out since there was a dead end in the woods that led me nowhere. The unfortunate part about all this was that I didn't know how  to swim. Originally as planned, Deacon was suppose to carry me on his back and swim with me back home. So much for that since that cowardly ass hole abandoned me. Once he heard my son mention the police he was the first to flee. That only showed me that Deacon wasn't a loyal man. He never  was when we were married and never will be. And he wondered why I loved Eric so much. It was because he wasn't bad like him or Dollar Bill. Eric was good and kind to the point that I didn't deserve him. After all, my stupid self left him without saying a word and yet that beautiful man still cared about me. Surprising it was but I believed that he loved  me more than he did Stephanie and Brooke. I could tell by how excited he was when I bumped into him while looking for Cressida and Deacon last night at that masquerade mess. Eric had that same loving look that he always gave me when we were married. The loving look that indicated that I was his wife again and that he was my husband. Only Satan himself knew how much I wanted to marry him again and wield his last name, but I couldn't. Quite difficult it is to explain but I couldn't pick up where we left off. Eric deserved better and it was better he will find.

      I wiped a tear from out my eye as I remembered how hurt Eric looked when I left him at the mansion last night. To think he'll remember me as the heartless bitch. It was okay for the Forrester's, Brooke and Katie to know me as one but not Eric. I sniffed as I was becoming more and more emotional thinking about Eric. I loved him and I always will but it was time to focus on me now. Time to figure out how to get home and leave this pompous Los Angeles city. I know I had to swim but I had a slight fear of drowning. You can thank papa Fuller for that fear because he was the reason why I did. 

       When I was around twelve or thirteen, my father tried to teach me how to swim. He told me that when I get to high school I will be taking swimming classes constantly, a lie of course, so I better learn now. So, while all the other kids were celebrating their birthdays, going to arcades, etcetera, I was stuck with my father at a private pool trying to swim. Now there were mainly two reasons why my tiny self didn't grasp the art of swimming. One, the water was too high and two, I often saw brown things floating around in the pool. Maybe some kids or adults made a poo poo before they left, I don't know and I still didn't. My father didn't care how high or what those brown things were in the pool. He was more concerned on how much money he was spending on taking me to that awful pool. His own fault it was since it was his dumb idea to want to teach me how to swim in the first place. Every time we went there,  I would hug myself in my bathing suit and shake my head at him, showing him that I didn't wanna get in that pool. My father was disappointed, of course, and would simply just tell me, "Next time." We went home and he tried again the next day and the next. As you guessed I was always telling him no and he was always saying "next time." One day, it was a Friday I believe, that next time died as I almost did. When my father and I came back to that empty pool place, out of anger and because he didn't take his medication, he took me by the head and shoved my head in the feces filled water. He called me "useless" and plenty of profane things that a child that age should never be called.  I swore, at that moment, my life would end the more forceful my father became. Thankfully, after a few seconds of cursing me, he realized that he almost drowned his only  child. He stopped his madness and pulled me out of the water, walking away after the hurt was done.