The little bell above the door rings, and I look up to see Lincoln walking into the café. I haven’t seen him for a few days. It was when I asked Ellie for help, because I know she has connections to the Iron Fury MC. Lincoln got wind of it, and wanted to be that person to help, and so I changed my mind. I like Ellie a great deal—she’s definitely going to become a friend, I can feel it—but I don’t need Lincoln getting involved with my business.

I wanted the bikers to help.

I didn’t think he was part of that.

He decided he was going to help anyway, but I refused to tell him what I needed, so he vowed he was going to find out even if I wouldn’t tell him, and come back. And here he is. But as far as I’m concerned, he can kiss my ass if he thinks I’m going to turn to him for help after what he did. He used me and tossed me aside like some cheap rag. I won’t be treated like that, and I certainly won’t be asking for anything from him. Not when it comes to this. Definitely not when it comes to this.

This is mine.

And it is something I don’t want him involved in.

“I’m not entirely sure what part about none of your business you’re not getting,” I mutter as soon as he reaches the counter.

“Good mornin’ to you too, Shania.”

“Why are you here, Lincoln?”

“You know why I’m here. You asked for help, and I want to know why.”

“Firstly, I didn’t ask for your help, I asked for the help of the club.”

“Same difference,” he says, pressing those huge hands onto the counter.

I remember those hands.

And how they felt on my body.

Snap out of it, Shania. We hate him, remember?

“It is not the same difference. If I wanted your help I would have asked. Oh, wait, no I wouldn’t have, because you put a fake number in my phone.”

His eyes lock onto mine, and his mouth twitches. “Still sore about that?”

“No, Lincoln, I’m not sore about anything. I couldn’t care less what you do, honestly. But I did not ask for your help. And I do not want your help. End of story. I really don’t care if I see you again.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Still sore.”

“Argh,” I cry out, frustrated. “What makes you think you’re so damned spectacular that I’d care what you did?”

“Because you’re actin’ like a brat.”

My mouth drops open, and I gape at him. “A brat? Are you serious right now? I don’t like you. I want you to leave me alone. That’s not being bratty, that’s being truthful.”

“And I saw somethin’ in your eyes when you asked Ellie for help, somethin’ that truly bothered you. I want to know what that is.”

“Why?” I snap, frustrated. “Why do you need to be involved in this so badly?”

“Because I don’t like fuckin’ monsters. Make it my damned mission to rid the world of them. And whatever had that look in your eye wasn’t good. You asked for help. You wouldn’t have done that if you didn’t need it.”

My chest clenches, but I say nothing. “I don’t need help from you, Lincoln Knight. I’ve got Ellie asking the club. They’ll help me.”

“Club and I are close—we work together. They help you, I help you.”

“Why are you doing this?” I whisper, my jaw tense.

“Already answered that.”

I shake my head. “I have work to do.”

“Come to the garage after work, tell me what you need. I’ll help you.”

My chest clenches. Because my pride, damn my pride, is screaming at me saying, hell no, you will not do that, you will not accept his help. But my heart, and everything inside me, knows I don’t have a choice. If I say no out of pride, I’ll never live with myself. I need help. Help the police aren’t giving me. And I know Lincoln has the resources. I believe him when he says that. And I know he isn’t going to stop, for whatever reason, until he gets what he wants.

I exhale. “I’ll come talk to you but know this, Lincoln Knight, I do not like you. Not one little bit. And if this wasn’t so important to me, I promise you I would not be allowing you to help me.”

He studies me. “Not sure why you don’t like me, done nothin’ to you.”

I raise my brows, and my lips part a little, which catches his attention. “You’re not sure?”

“Yeah, I’m not sure.”

“Firstly, you screwed me and then put the wrong number into my phone. As if I’m going to cling onto you. Which by the way, I am not. I have some self-respect and I can’t stand you. And secondly, you stole my damned panties. Like some sort of creeper. Also, you’re bossy. And mean. And grumpy. And I don’t like you.”

His mouth twitches. “You and I both know that wasn’t how you felt last time we were together.”

Argh.

Frustrating. Pain in my ass.

“Goodbye, Lincoln.”

I turn and walk out back.

“See you this afternoon, angel.”

Fuck him.

Jerk bag.

~*~*~*~