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Chapter thirty-five
Back onshore, Mrs. McTavish started running toward the edge of the dock, but Grey held a hand out to stop her. His calmness was always unnerving, but this time it sent shivers of dread up my spine.
I slapped at Lincoln’s chest. “What are you doing?”
He didn’t budge.
Panic flooded my senses. I’d been stolen from the man who stole me first. But unlike last time, this man knew exactly where to find me. He knew everything.
I locked my fingers in the roots of my hair and stared at the dock as it moved farther and farther away until it was nothing more than a blur. “Answer me!” I slapped him again, this time on his firm bicep. “What thefuckare you doing, Lincoln?”
He stared out over the ocean in front of us, focused and determined. Other than the flexing and unflexing of his jaw, there was no sign that any of this affected him.
“You just got us both killed!” The words tore out of my throat, scratchy from all the yelling.
If someone killed Kipton as powerful as he was… if his death wasn’t an accident… there was no telling what they would do to us. Unless thatsomeonewas Grey. Grey would never hurt me.
But I couldn’t say the same for Lincoln. He’d almost killed Lincoln on the beach with his bare hands.
More silence.
He white-knuckled the steering wheel and stared forward until we were in the middle of nowhere surrounded by an infinity of blue. Then he did something with the throttle and a gear, causing the boat to slow until it stopped.
Lincoln whipped around and bolted forward, stopping inches from my face. “You think I was just going to let you go? That I was going to let him take you again?” His chest heaved with every desperate-sounding word. “That I was going to let him hurt you again?”
Lincoln believed that what happened with Grey was rape.
I didn’t agree.
What almost happened to me in that cottage would have been rape. My night with Grey was nowhere near that.
I knew sex with Grey was inevitable. He’d told me about it weeks before it ever happened. I planned for it. I waited for it. And when it finally came, I was ready for it. Knowing that it hurt Grey too, that if he’d had a choice, it never would’ve happened, took some of the ugly out of it. To me, it was just a tragic collision of two people fighting for the same goal—to keep those men away from me.
Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I was more fucked up than I knew.
“You don’t know them like I do, baby. You don’t know what they’re capable of. I’veseenit,” Lincoln said. Something flashed in his eyes—fear, anger, panic— all of the above. It was wild and terrifying. I did know what they were capable of. “I’ve fucking seen it.” He lowered his voice and took a step back. “And I can’t un-see it. But now every time the memories flash through my mind, it’s your face I see. It’s you hanging from that tree.”
Hanging from a tree?Oh, Lincoln. What the fuck have they put you through?Whatever he’d seen was so much worse than what I’d been through.
I pushed my own emotions down and focused on him. With slow, careful steps, I closed the distance he’d created between us. My hand cradled the curve of his jaw. I spoke softly, bringing my lips to his, like taming a wild beast. “I’m right here. And I promise not to go near any trees.” I smiled, even though my heart felt as though I’d run a marathon.
“I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.” His voice was calm, steady, and honestly, kind of scary.
“I know you will.”
Back at Tatum’s house, Chandler was on the back patio standing behind a barbecue grill. Clouds of smoke rose with the flames and the meat sizzled on the hot metal grill.
He threw his head back and laughed when I walked up holding Lincoln’s hand. “I fucking called it.”
Lincoln huffed. “You didn’t call shit.”
Chandler pointed at the grill with a set of stainless steel tongs. “No? Why do you think I cooked five steaks?”
“Because you’re a big hungry motherfucker?” Lincoln answered, not waiting for a reply as he opened the door and led me inside.
Caspian was lying on the couch with Tatum resting between his legs. He shifted his gaze from the television to us, then shook his head. “Of all the impulsive jackass shit you’ve done, I think this is the worst.”
For once, I agreed with him.
