C H A P T E R   F O U R T E E N

Lincoln

That image, the one where she puts that last bite of cheesecake between her lips, the same lips that have given me more pleasure in four days than in my whole life, is burned into my brain like a brand.

The penthouse is humming. Players surround the tables. Chips click together, a constant drumbeat as players either toss them into the pot or fidget with their stacks, or as dealers pull or push them to and fro.

Same sounds I’ve heard every day of my life for longer than I can remember.

But today, the temperature feels different.

The noises are harsh. They crack against my eardrums like gunfire.

And for the first time in my life, the smell of cigar smoke and false hope sickens me to the core.

None of it matters. Not the money. Not the image. Not the illusion of power. I’m an icon of nothing that matters to me anymore, and there’s a hole opening inside of me that cannot be filled.

Except it could, and I know it.

It could be filled by her.

But I make my peace with the deep black hole of my existence, because she and I can’t be. There’s no way to keep her safe if we continue. No route out of this place with my name intact and her tagging along. Deal was, I disappear, no trace. No attachments. At the time, it was the cherry on top of a very lucrative transition-of-my-business sundae.

Now, it’s the very thing that’s killing my soul.

“Boss.” Walrus doesn’t even look up from the ledger open in front of him, his fountain pen swirling names and dollar figures into columns only he can understand. If he’d ever wanted to screw me over the years, I’d be fucked. He’s the one person in my life I trust. And we speak barely ten words to each other a day, even when we’re working in the same room.

I hear him laugh, and it draws my attention. With a sigh, I sit down in the chair in front of his desk, cross my arms over my chest and look.

He’s smiling.

The cigar barely stuck to his bottom lip.

“What the fuck is with you?” I grunt.

“You don’t think I know.”

Five words and I understand exactly what he’s saying.

“I couldn’t tell you. How’d you find out?”

“I see clues. I have eyes. No one has to tell me. I waited for you to tell me, but I figured there must be some good fucking reason you didn’t.”

Walrus notices things that even someone with X-ray vision and the ability to read minds couldn’t catch.

“I’m fucked.” A long exhale tears from my lungs. The weight of this decision on my shoulders leaves me in that one breath.

“Yeah?”

He doesn’t know everything.

I tell him the deal. The details.

Then I stop and he shifts in his chair, pushing back and standing up. He never fucking stands up except to leave the room at the end of the night or when he has to piss. He slaps his thick hands down on the desk and leans over.

“You taking her?”

Fucker doesn’t miss a trick.

“That’s the ‘I’m fucked’ part of this. Can’t take her. Can’t risk her.”

“I got this,” he hisses.

“What the hell do you mean, you got this?”

“You shoulda told me sooner. You better get ready to send my mom a shit-ton of flowers. She likes orchids. Oh, and peonies. Pink.”

Walrus groans as he stands back upright. Centering his hands into the small of his back and stretching with a pained rumble.

He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out his phone, then turns and walks to the windows, bringing it to his ear.

A minute later, he’s back in his chair, giving me a stare.

“What the hell did you just do?”

“I called my mom.”

“I got that part.” I’m getting fucking annoyed right now. “What the fuck does your mom have to do with anything?”

“You’re an asshole, you know that? You’ve always been an asshole, but you don’t know everything, motherfucker.” He shifts the cigar butt to the opposite side of his mouth. “My mom and his mom, that piece of rat shit you sold your world to, sit next to each other every Thursday night at the fucking bingo. They get their fucking hair done together every Monday morning. Meyer won’t fuck with you if you take your girl. Not now. I guarantee it. I just told my mom, ‘Lincoln found his one. Rudolf needs to back the fuck off if he takes her with him. Fix it. They’re leaving tomorrow. Don’t ask anything else, just tell Norma.’”

“That’s it?” I shake my head, my hands coming to rest on my knees, gripping hard. I’ve been a fucking idiot.

“The power of the mom. Do not ever doubt what a good mamma’s boy will do.”

“Fuck. You know what?”

Walrus just stares. He’s done talking. I know the exertion of all those words has already set him over his limit for the next year.

I don’t wait for his response. “I thought about killing him.”

Walrus lifts one eyebrow. That was our one pact when we started down this life all those years ago. We’d do a lot of stuff. Fuck, whatever it took. I’ve broken my share of noses and extracted debts in ways I’m not proud of, but we vowed never to take a life. And we never did. Never even came close to that. The idea hadn’t really ever been a possibility until the last three days.

I rub my hands up and down the tops of my thighs as my friend waits for me to finish. “But he’s got reach. I kill him, it comes back on her. On me. On you.”

He nods, looking down at the open ledger, then begins scribbling again.

A loud “whoop” comes from a newbie at table three, and you can see the collective eye roll from the seasoned players at his outburst. But at the moment, I’m ready to follow his lead and do a fucking yee-haw with a set of pom-poms waving around.

“I love you, man. Thank you.” It’s the last thing I say before Walrus raises one hand and flips his fingers toward the door, dismissing me without another word.

In my car, I make a call to confirm with Rudolf what just happened. He’s less than interested in discussing the details of his conversation with his mother, but with a few clipped words, he confirms we are in the clear. I can take her and I have to still leave, but I don’t have to go completely ghost.  Just lay fucking low, stay out of town and I’m good with that.

So with that one small detail of our arrangement altered, it’s just enough that if I play my cards right, Holli and I can start living our lives.

Together.

Now I just need to get to her. And hope she’s really feeling what I’m feeling. Hope she trusts me enough to fly away with me and start over.

Ten minutes later though, and she’s not replying to my texts. Not answering my calls.

I consider heading back to my house. After all, she could just be busy. Or out. Left her phone somewhere and not know that I’m trying to get a hold of her. I can head home, settle a few last details, and pick her up in the morning on the way to the airport. In my head, that makes sense. But that’s no longer me. My life no longer makes sense. The next left turn will take me back to my place. Instead, I spin the wheel right and head to her apartment.

A few minutes later, I’m taking the stairs two at a time, making my way to her. But when I reach the second-floor landing, that’s when I hear it.

Her voice.

“Stop it, you ass. Let go.”

My heart jumps in my chest. It’s far off, but it’s her. At least two more flights up but something’s wrong, and I have to go to her.

By the time I get to her fourth floor, every breath is burning my lungs. My heart nearly shatters ribs from the exertion and the fury that someone has a hand on her.

I sprint down the hall, try the handle, but the door is locked.

Nothing comes between us. Nothing. I’ll move the fucking earth if I have to. A second later, my foot becomes the universal key, breaking the lock and sending shards of wood flying. The door swings open, and there’s that Cruzer guy with a hand holding hers above her head, his other one squeezing her chin, holding her face secure.

“Let go.” Her muffled words are shut down by his hand over her mouth, and all I see is red.

“Just shut up.”  Cruzer says.  “Listen, just shut the fuck up, we can be in on this hustle together.  Make a shit ton of money with your looks and my set ups.  Maybe we can be more too.”

The promise Walrus and I made to each other never to take a life flashes through my mind and flies out the window.

His hands move to lock around her, pulling her against him, and bile hits my tongue as I lunge forward. My fist hits the side of his eye socket with a crunch.

Holli’s wide eyes go from Cruzer to me, then back.

She ducks, spins, and ends up off my left side, smart enough to know when it’s time to get the fuck out of the way and let things get handled.

“What the—” Cruzer’s hands fly up to his face.

I don’t let the piece of shit get another word out before he gets two more shots. He shrieks as the first one lands on his chin, then the next smacks right into his cheek. Blood courses through his fingers as he brings a hand to cover the pouring crimson liquid, whimpering, backing away.

“Stop! What the fuck?”

Two seconds later, I’m stuffing his bleeding ass out the front door with my foot.

“Your face. In my sight never again. You even think about her, you’ll be in the fucking river wearing a Buick as a collar.”

I slam the door behind me, and I’m on Holli like a rocket.

I don’t think of anything but getting my lips on hers. Feeling her breath in my mouth. Her body under my hands.

She’s shaking, and I hold her tighter, trying to take all the tension from her. Squeezing her against me as our lips move and open to each other. Our heads shifting back and forth as the intensity grows. My dick is thick and ready. I need to be inside her, need to provide proof that everything is okay. That we will be okay.

“One second.” I pull back, looking down into those magical eyes, and step to the door. The knob is fucked from my kick, but there’s an inside latch that will secure it from anyone else coming in. I need to be inside her in the next few minutes, or I feel like I am going to come undone.

She’s standing there with pink cheeks, and a questioning look crosses her face.

“He set it up.” Her words give me a moment of pause, the sadness behind them tightening a knife in my gut. “All of it.”

“What?”

I step to her, holding her cheeks in my hands.

“Cruzer. He set me up. Those guys at your game? The three that shoved me out?”

I draw my brows together and let her continue, but already I’m rethinking my decision to let that piece of shit live.

“They split what they took from me. And then they just did it again in an online game.” Her eyes dart to the monitor that still has the game in progress.

“How do you know?”

“I was leaving the apartment after I just lost in some online game he set up. Lost nearly every dollar I had left.” She meets my eyes. “I was saving it for my school fund. I got out the door, and he was yelling at me to come back down the hall, but I flipped him off, said a few words, and kept going.”

Her hands come up to cover her face on a deep breath. I put mine on top of hers, feeling the shaking, and draw them down, placing them against my chest.

“And?”

“But I decided I needed my bag. My keys. Stomping out without anything maybe wasn’t the smartest idea. So I went back. The door was open, and he was on the phone.”

The rage inside me builds as her eyes shimmer with tears. She’s so fucking tough, but inside there is the little girl I need to care for. The one I need to hold on my lap and tell her I’ve got this. I’ve got her back, today and every other fucking day, until I draw my last breath.

When she continues, I’m ready to peel the plaster off the walls.

“He was talking about setting me up. The three guys at your game? Same three were in this online game. They gang up on me, push me out, then Cruzer gets a cut of the winnings they take from me. And...”

She stops, her shaking stops, her tears stop, and she’s suddenly a tigress.

“Apparently, his other motivation...was to make sure I didn’t have any money to leave. He didn’t want me to be able to pay for my school because then I would have to stay here, and they would keep playing me, or bring me in on the hustle and he could also—”

She stalls on that last word, but it doesn’t matter. As a man, I can’t help but hear the meaning in her silence.

“He fucking thought he could have you.”

I finish for her. That point is moot, but if that fucker even salivates on a fantasy of her, I’ll know, and he’ll be wearing his dick as a hemorrhoid.

“There is one good thing.” A flicker of hope twinkles behind her eyes. “Angela, my roommate.” She meets my eyes. “She didn’t know anything about it. She may be a horrible person, maybe even a lost cause, I don’t know, but she’s not evil. When I came back through the door and started yelling at Cruzer, asking him what the hell he was up to, he said she didn’t even know, had no idea. That he was just keeping her happy to stay close to me.” She shakes her head, the memory coming back fresh, and it breaks my heart. “I ran out again and down the hall, but he followed me. Dragged me back in. That’s when you came through the door like the Lone Ranger.”

A soft giggle passes her lips, and I can’t take it anymore.

“Kick. Baby. You gotta trust me, right now. Two things are about to happen. Your clothes are getting torn off that magnificent body, and my dick is going into that cunt. I’ve never been so goddamn hard, and I’m going to lose my fucking mind if I’m not inside you in the next few seconds.”

“You may be hard.” Her hands move slowly up and around my neck. Her eyes turn darker, and that smoky vixen behind the Kewpie doll emerges. “But I’m so wet, I’m like a slip and slide between my legs.”

I’m done. There are no more words. Two seconds later, she’s naked and on all fours on her bed, with me right behind her.

“Ouch, Jesus...that’s too much.”

“Just breathe, so fucking deep. I want to be inside every part of you. Do you understand how that feels for me? To want to be part of you in every fucking way. Just take it, breathe and feel me.”

I withdraw a few inches. She’s taking nearly all of me, and in this position, I know that’s tough.

I slide forward, giving her time to adjust herself, because it’s going to be my balls slick and stuck to her pussy lips in a few seconds. I want them dripping with her, want to hear them slapping wet and fast against her flesh. The filthy sounds of two people turning into one. Something I’ve never thought about before, but now I can’t fucking stop.

Her pleasured moans turn to high-pitched whimpers as I set myself nearly to the base. I’ve never felt anything more beautiful. Taking this last bit of her, slow and as deep as her body can accept, is like the final signal of my ownership.

“That’s it, shh, just a little more. Breathe. Your pussy is owning my ass. You’re never getting rid of me. You know that, don’t you? You run, I’ll chase you down a thousand times and drag you right back. No way am I ever living without this...without you. Not again. Not for a minute.”

She yelps at my words, and the last inch sinks into her, her walls nearly choking the base of my dick until it hurts.

I reach down and around, start to strum the tight hole of her ass with my thumb.

“I’ll be in here soon. There’s no part of you that won’t take me. No part of you I won’t know. You get that, don’t you?”

With a gentle push, my thumb is inside, and I draw back and start fucking into her faster.

Her hips meet my strokes, matching my rhythm as her body undulates, throwing her head back against her neck before letting it hang down between her shoulders. Then her arms give way and she falls forward onto her elbows, but it is the most beautiful position I have ever seen: ass high, back arched, face planted on the mattress as she gives every part of herself to me.

The slick juices from her pussy cover my dick. I look down to watch her opening sucking and giving as my thickness stretches her. The sight of her body drawing me in then releasing me, as more and more of her arousal coats me, sends me nearly to the brink.

But my rules stand.

She comes first.

Or even better, we come together. But never will I take my release before hers. Never.

With another push, my thumb goes inside her ass to the first knuckle, her tight ring of muscle squeezing hard, and I imagine taking her here with my dick someday, and I have to draw a deep breath to hold myself back.

I reach under her with my other hand, my chest coming down onto her back as I attack her clit with my fingers.

“Come on my cock. I want to feel that right now. I need it.”

My hips move like a storm, my thumb inside her and my other fingers working her cunt. I’ve never been in so many places I want to be all at once until now. They say, when you die, you do whatever you were doing at that moment forever.

If it didn’t mean I would leave her, I’d fucking do anything to go right now. Living in this moment forever with her would be a kind of heaven I could accept.

She goes out on a wail, and I lose it. I’ve never screamed when I’ve come before, but she’s turning me into her bitch. I let out a feral roar, and my body starts to shake. Then I drive as deep into her gushing cunt as she can take, feeling her cervix against me as I blow my load.

She drenches me then, and her ass undulates around my thumb. Her hips convulse, and we both come so hard and so long that I lose track of even where we fucking are for a few minutes.

When I finally connect back to reality, I slowly withdraw as she releases a long, grateful sigh before collapsing onto the bed, with me crawling on top of her. My elbows locked, on my knees, looking down at the most beautiful face God ever created, I can’t believe my luck. This is the face I will wake up to for the rest of my life.

“You need to tell me,” I say on a hard breath. My body aches from the force of my release, covered in a sheen of sweat that spreads and cools as her hands come up to stroke up and down my arms.

“About what?” The question in her eyes matches the confusion on her face.

“About what size your finger is. About who you want to invite to the wedding. About just how many kids you want? Where we will go on our honeymoon?” With each word, her green eyes sparkle and widen.

“Are you assuming I would marry you?” She toys, but her plump lips give away her tell. She’s all about yes to my sideways proposal.

“How about a wager? I win, you marry me. You win, you marry me. I’m all about win/win these days. I’m a changed man, it seems.”

The lightness of her laughter is matched by the brush of her fingers on my shoulder.

“Lincoln Kirk, I accept your bet and raise you a—”

Just then, the sound of a text message coming in on both our phones rings in the small space of the apartment. We look at each other.

“Who would be texting us both?” She looks toward the table where her bag sits and her phone right beside it.

I shrug. “I have no idea.”

“You get my phone, and I’ll get yours, okay?” With shimmering green eyes, she turns on her side as I shift my legs to the edge of the bed and stand.

“Deal. But don’t look until we look together.”

We are both stepping toward our phones. Mine is in my pants pocket on the floor next to the bed, and hers I grab from the table.

A moment later, we are both back on the bed. She’s on her knees, and I’m sitting next to her.

“Okay, let’s see.”

We turn our phones up. As I look down at her phone screen, I can’t believe what I’m reading. I glance up to find her looking right at me, then take another look at the screen. Then our eyes meet.

I see the question in my mind reflected in her face. For just a moment, it’s replaced with anger. Then, something like a realization.

“Something you want to tell me?” she says, holding up the screen to my face.

“Something you want to tell me?” I do the same.

“I don’t know what’s going on here, but if I’m reading these correctly, there is something bigger than us at work here.”

Both our screens show the same image, just a few details have been differ. She’s booked in coach, I’m in first class.

But we are on the same fucking flight. To Provo. Tomorrow.

I can’t hide the grin. It’s like it was always meant to be. “Told you. You’re never getting away from me.”