Hating Linc didn’t negate the profound sense of helplessness I felt watching him grimace through the pain as he worked on restoring the strength in both his legs. From the sidelines, it didn’t look possible that he’d be able to walk in six to eight weeks. Even with full sensation in one leg, he was limited. He could bear twenty-five pounds of weight on his good leg and couldn’t even touch his toes of his bad leg to the ground. Strapped to some sort of thing that resembled a treadmill, he kept his bad leg bent and performed all exercises with his functioning leg.
The physical therapist was pushing him hard, forcing him to kick his leg out repeatedly. By the third set, Linc was sweating like an animal and telling the therapist to go fuck his mother.
“How long you think until he kicks the guy in the face?” Nico asks beside me.
Not tearing my eyes from Linc, I question my cousin.
“Why didn’t you tell me he was hurt?”
“Would it have mattered if I had?” he counters, leaning his elbows on his knees. “I thought you were done with him.”
“I am,” I defend, turning to face him. “But, when you called to tell me your father had a heart attack, you could’ve informed me that Linc was in a wheelchair.”
“And when I told you about my father, you could’ve asked me to come get you out of whatever this mess this is,” he fires back, lifting a finger to point at the bruises under my eyes. “What the fuck, Kelly?”
“I took care of it,” I tell him, looking back to Linc.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I’m here, right? It means I’m no one’s punching bag, and I hightailed it out of there the minute that bastard raised his hands to me. I’m no damsel in distress, Nico. I’m not my mother.”
“No one said you were,” he argues,
“Actually, that’s exactly what you’re implying by asking me why I didn’t ask you to come get me. I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it since I was a kid.”
“All I’m saying is, you didn’t have to. I would’ve been there for you and if my father wasn’t laid up in the hospital, he would’ve been too.”
“I appreciate that.”
“Did you at least get a few good shots in before you left?” he asks, winking at me to diffuse the tension.
A smile ticks the corners of my lips.
“What do you think?”
We laugh for a moment before his gaze turns serious, and he tips his chin in Linc’s direction.
“So, what’s the plan with Linc?”
“There is no plan,” I tell him. “I’m just passing through until I figure what my next step is.”
“You could stick around,” he suggests. “Find a job and make a life for yourself.”
Looking at Linc, I shake my head.
“I can’t stay here.”
“Because of him,” he accuses.
Drawing in a deep breath, I don’t answer him. Mainly because I don’t want to admit Linc still holds that kind of power over me. Living under the same roof with him is a test of my own strength and the reason, I’ve been doing everything in my power to stay out of the house since I arrived. Yesterday, I rode my bike to the city, spent the entire day scoping out the skyscrapers and then got lost in Chinatown. I didn’t even get a decent egg roll out of the deal.
This morning, after seeing him struggle to get a mug out of the drainboard, I caved and offered to help him. His response was expected—well, to a degree. I expected the backlash of attitude. Linc doesn’t admit defeat. He doesn’t take to weakness, something he learned through years of mayhem and playing the Devil’s disciple. I watched him change before my eyes but, it never mattered at the time because when he came home and peeled the leather off his body, he was still the broken guy tormented by his youth.
The guy who had a soft spot for me.
He was a criminal on the streets but between the sheets, he was just the man who loved me. And, this morning his crude words reminded me of all the nights spent expressing that love. I don’t know what would’ve happened if Nico didn’t walk in when he did. As promising as the suggestion to ride his face sounded, I wouldn’t have taken him up on the offer. After all, I may be reckless and the queen of bad decisions but, I am not suicidal.
What concerned me more than straddling Linc’s face, was staring into his eyes and being reminded of everything I lost. I could handle two black eyes but, I couldn’t stand the idea of those old wounds being split open. Yeah, sticking around was most definitely not an option.
“With what the club has planned for him, it would probably do him a world of good if you stuck around,” Nico suggests, tipping his chin toward Linc. “If anyone can keep him on his toes and stop him from feeling sorry for himself it’s you.”
Turning my head, a fraction, I narrow my eyes.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask. Lifting a hand, I dismiss the question and ask another one instead. “Wait, how do you know any of this? Did Uncle Al, finally agree to let you prospect for the Knights?”
He laughs flippantly.
“Yeah, right,” he admonishes. “I know things. Leave it at that.”
“My God,” I mutter. “You’re just like your father.”
“Keep it up and I won’t tell you everything I know,” he warns teasingly.
“Tell me,” I demand, slapping his arm for extra emphasis.
“From what I’ve overheard, they’re sending Linc into the devil’s lair. Over the last few months, the club has been attacked several times. The bomb was just the beginning.”
“What bomb?”
“Wait, how do you think Linc ended up in the chair?”
“All your father said was that there was an accident and a lot of people were hurt.”
“Someone blew up their clubhouse on the day of the president’s wedding,” he reveals motioning to Linc. “He was trapped under the debris.”
“Oh my God,” I whisper, lifting my hand to cover the gasp.
“Yeah, it was bad and the guy responsible is a sick fuck. He’s into some pretty sick shit too, like kidnapping little girls. A real scumbag.”
“Where does Linc fit in?”
“Well, the guy is a fucking phantom they can’t seem to catch but, he’s into cards. They’re going to try to send Linc into the card game he hosts.”
“How does that help anything?”
“I’m not sure it does,” he admits. “between you and me, I don’t think they know what they’re doing. If you ask me, they’re grasping at straws and he’s going to be the next one they bury,” he adds solemnly, drawing his gaze back to Linc.
“Don’t say that,” I reprimand.
“C’mon Kel, look at him. The man don’t give a fuck if he lives or dies.”
The wounds I was trying so hard not to open, split wide at Nico’s words and I swallow the lump in my throat.
“Why do I still care? I mean what’s wrong with me?” I grimace, realizing I’ve spoken aloud the questions I meant to ask myself. Eyeing Nico, I shrug my shoulders. “I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I hate that I still feel anything for the bastard and if you tell him that, I’ll kill you. Cousin or no cousin.”
“For what it’s worth, I don’t think he ever got over you either.”
“Wrong,” I deadpan. “You have to care about someone to get over them and Linc never cared about me. Not really. I was just someone he used to pass the time. Someone who made him forget the girl he really loved.”
Nico looks at me for a moment before shaking his head.
“For a smart girl, you’re really fucking naïve,” he mutters.
About to question him, I get distracted when Linc curses loudly.
“Fuck you,” he shouts at the therapist as he drops his body into the wheelchair. Panting through clenched teeth, he turns to me and Nico. “Get me the fuck out of here.”
“Tomorrow,” the therapist tells him. “And I want you in a pool until we can put weight on those legs.”
“Fuck you,” Linc repeats. “Fuck your pool. Fuck everything,” he calls over his shoulders as he wheels himself toward us.
“See what I mean?” Nico says, rising to his feet. “He needs someone who isn’t afraid to put him in line. He needs you and, fair warning, I call dibs on front row seats to the show.”
Linc doesn’t need someone to keep him in line. He needs someone to understand him, someone who can show him how to live again. He needs to learn to let go of the things he can’t change and embrace his blessings. Linc needs to remember how he felt when he was eighteen. He overcame the hopelessness he felt then and, he can overcome it now.
Only this time he has to do it without me.
I won’t make the same mistake twice. I’m not the girl I once was. I’ve learned from my mistakes and know no matter how hard you try to change someone, you can’t. They’ll never see themselves the way you do and all you can do is move on or at least try.
You need to know when to quit. Sometimes the cards are just bad and, you need to fold before you lose everything. I won’t go all in only to be discarded like a bad hand.
“No show,” I correct. Following Nico’s lead, I stand too. “I’ll be gone by the end of the week,” I continue as Linc comes to a stop in front of us.
Come hell or high water, I am getting the fuck out of Brooklyn and away from the disgruntled man staring up at me.
“You willing to bet on that?” Linc questions.
“Absolutely,” I say. “I play to win.”
“I should know, I’m the one who taught you,” he replies cockily.
You also taught me when to fold.