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He squints at me in the darkness, leaning closer as he stares at my face. Then he nods, his jaw clenching. “I know. We should’ve told you.”
“He tried to—”
“I know.”
One of his arms still holds me securely to his body, but the other reaches up to brush my hair back before sweeping down the side of my face. His knuckles trail over my jawline, and the look on his face makes my heart beat painfully hard. His expression is tender and fierce at the same time, and that’s just what it feels like when he presses his lips to mine and kisses me.
Tender and fierce.
For the moment, it doesn’t seem to matter that a few days ago, he caught me having sex with one of his best friends. It doesn’t matter that he and the others neglected to tell me their entire surveillance of me was for my protection.
It just matters that I’m alive. That he came for me. That they all did.
My hands grasp at his broad shoulders as I kiss him back. It’s as different from kissing Lincoln as night and day, as a thunderstorm and soft summer rain. His lips are exploratory and gentle, and he kisses me like he’s drinking me in, trying to infuse himself with my essence.
His tongue darts out, meeting mine—but a half-second later, Lincoln grabs me by the waist and pulls me away.
“All right. That’s enough.” His voice is steely.
River’s gaze flicks to him, eyes narrowing as his friend speaks. Then he reaches out and gives my wrist a gentle tug, pulling me back toward him. As soon as I’m in his embrace once more, he kisses me again—and this time, although it’s still gentle, there’s nothing tentative about it. He threads his fingers through my hair and tilts my head slightly, allowing him to take the kiss so deep I feel like I’m drowning in it.
I can’t help but think he and Lincoln are working something out between them, communicating through their actions, negotiating for territory or something. River’s kiss, deep and consuming as it is, also seems to be sending a message to Linc that the tall, dark-haired boy doesn’t own me. That he doesn’t get to claim me for his own.
That’s a message I can definitely get behind, so I throw myself into kissing River back, letting the feel of his hands in my hair and his oakmoss scent sooth the fear and adrenaline still coursing through me.
One of the twins—Chase, I think—whistles as our lips finally break apart. River doesn’t release me though, keeping one arm wrapped around me and tucking me into his side as we turn to face the others.
Lincoln’s amber eyes gleam as he chuckles darkly. “All right, you fucker. I get it. Now can I take her home?”
22
Lincoln almost refuses to let me drive the Nissan back, insisting that I should ride with him. It’s only when I point out that it’ll raise suspicion if my mom’s car isn’t in the garage tomorrow morning that he agrees to let me drive separately from him.
He follows about an inch and a half behind my car, so close our bumpers are practically kissing, and when I stop at an ATM to deposit my winnings—my attacker didn’t even touch the money, which is terrifying in its own right—he gets out of his car and stands beside me like a surly bodyguard.
After I pull into the detached garage, he meets me by my car door, keeping a hand on my lower back as we walk quietly toward the dark house. I don’t know if he’s expecting someone to attack us on his family property or still just on edge in general, but I don’t fight the contact. As fucked up as things might be between us right now, it’s still a comfort to feel him by my side. My throat is still sore and raw, my bruised hip throbs, and my body aches all over. The scrapes on my palms sting, and if I think too hard about what happened tonight, it’s hard to breathe.
Having Lincoln beside me helps.
“How did you know?” I ask in a rough voice as we near the service entrance. “That I left?”
“I have an alert set to notify me if the gate is opened overnight.”
My footsteps falter, and I glance at him. “That’s pretty high-level surveillance.”
He shakes his head, his expression hardening. “Not really. And it didn’t even send the alert until two hours after you left. Fucking piece of shit. If we hadn’t—”
He breaks off, and I’m glad he didn’t finish that sentence. We both know how it could’ve ended, and I don’t want to think about that right now. I can’t think about it.
After unlocking the door, he ushers me up the narrow stairs, sticking as close behind me as he did in the car. When we emerge into the hallway on the second floor, we both hesitate for a moment. I hear him draw in a breath like he’s about to speak, but instead, he releases it on a low sigh.
“Get some rest, Harlow. We’ll deal with all this shit tomorrow.”
I want to say something, but I can’t decide whether to thank him for protecting me or curse him out for dragging me into this shit storm in the first place. So I keep my mouth shut and just nod.
His fingertips ghost up my arm and across my shoulder before he gently grips my chin. His thumb slides along my jaw, then he releases me and strides down the hall, turning the corner toward his room.
My heart clenches in my chest as I watch him go. When he’s out of sight, I slip into my mom’s apartment quietly. The reality of everything that happened tonight is finally catching up with me, and I feel an overwhelming urge to hug her, to tell her I love her while I still can.
