Page 38 of Callous Shot

“I told you. I had a disagreement with a rock.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No. It’s just a headache.” I didn’t know why I was bothering to respond to him. This fake concern was obviously a ploy to make himself look good in front of his uncle.

“Wait there.”

Well, it wasn’t like I was allowed to go anywhere else, was I? I might as well have been a prisoner in this gingerbread cottage of nightmares.

When he returned to the kitchen, he strode over to the farmhouse-style sink, and no, I did not watch the way the thin material of his grey joggers was clinging to the tight muscles of his ass. Okay, I did, but only because I was trying to work out if his ass looked better than mine.

Nah, it couldn’t be better. That was impossible.

Wait. Was he even wearing underwear? It didn’t look like it.

I quickly averted my gaze.

When he turned around, it took me a minute to realise that he’d managed to ditch his hoodie, and all those tattoos decorating his arms were right in my face.

I glared at him, but he ignored me, busy placing a glass of water on the counter next to my elbow. “Are you on any medication? Have you even seen a doctor?”

“No, and yes,” I ground out. “I already told you I’m fine.”

“Take these.”

“How do I know they aren’t poison?” I replied on autopilot, already popping two paracetamol capsules from the pack. Swiping the glass from the counter, I swallowed the pills, along with a large mouthful of water.

“You really think I’d risk poisoning you in my uncle’s house?” he shot back, already moving away from me. When he turned his back, I let myself slump on the stool, rubbing at my temples again. Fucking hell, I didn’t even have a good comeback. Between my headache and being deep in enemy territory, I was too discombobulated.

I twisted on the stool, laying my arms on the counter and burying my head in them. Maybe if I closed my eyes, I’d wake up and realise this was all a nightmare.

“Hoyton.” A cool hand cupped the back of my neck, making me flinch. “Turn around.”

Groaning into my arms, I shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut as tightly as I could. This isn’t real.

“C’mon.” The fingers squeezed in warning before a thumb rubbed over the short hairs on my nape. I barely repressed a shiver. Then a body was pressing into mine, an unwanted furnace that made my dick stir. Stupid involuntary reactions. He breathed across my ear, and really, was that necessary? “If Mike comes back down and finds out I haven’t followed his orders, we’ll both be in deep shit.”

Fuck him for reminding me of what was at stake. Pretending this was all a dream wasn’t working.

I opened my eyes and straightened up in one swift movement, spinning on the stool to face Lincoln. His eyes widened, his body jerking backwards to avoid a collision between us.

We both exhaled when we were a safe distance away from each other. His hazel eyes met mine, greens and golds and browns swirling together, fringed by dark lashes. Fucking hell. I couldn’t hold his gaze⁠—

“Stay still,” he muttered, and then all the much-needed personal distance between us shrank to nothing because he was suddenly standing between my legs, his calloused fingers smearing some kind of cream on the bump on my head. I had no idea what it was, but it was cool and soothing and made me sigh in relief. My headache almost instantly dissipated from an insistent pain to a dull throb.

“What’s that?” My palms landed on his hips. Fuck them for having a mind of their own. Again.

“Bruise relief cream.” He cupped my jaw roughly, yanking my head up. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Blame your uncle,” I said, dipping my fingers under the hem of his T-shirt. I tugged him closer. “Why did you pull a knife on me?”

His stubble scraped against my skin, his lips brushing over my ear as he leaned in. “I wanted to be prepared because I knew you’d have weapons. I didn’t— I wasn’t thinking straight, okay?”

“Why did you block me?” I whispered, and he exhaled harshly.

“You’re bad news, baby.”

My fingers tightened on his sides, digging into his warm, smooth skin. I gritted my teeth. “I told you not to fucking call me baby.”