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“Did you see anyone?” There's rustling on his end of the line, and I imagine him pulling shoes on and hustling through his house. Or maybe that's just me projecting.
“No, but I heard noises. A lot of thumping like maybe someone's walking around upstairs.”
“It's good you called. I'm on my way, yeah?”
I exhale, the instant relief a balm against the rough scrape of anxiety. “Okay. And Lincoln? Can you hurry please? I'm scared.”
* * *
BANE
I keep the line open,listening to the comforting sound of her quiet breaths. If she's breathing, then she's alive. The sound of her voice when she called, the hushed whisper of fear is going to stick with me for a long, long time.
Visions of that faceless asshole on top of her with a gun to her head flash before my eyes, and I pick up my speed, running toward my bike. I switch my phone to my earbuds, popping them in to keep our line open and throw my leg over.
“I'm coming, baby girl. Just stay there, yeah?”
Her response is swallowed by the sound as the engine roars to life. In two heartbeats, I'm flying toward the compound gates. I rev my engine, the only warning that they're going to get to open them up and fucking fast, or I won't be held liable for what I do.
I feel the seconds tick by like knives pricking my skin, each one hurting a little more than the last.
The streets are dark but not empty as I head toward Magnolia Lane. I'm every stereotypical motorcycle-driving asshole right now, weaving in and out of traffic, zipping down the center lanes, and generally breaking every traffic law I can. My sole focus is getting to Evangeline as quickly as possible.
Trees whip past me in a blur, and soon enough, the huge house looms into view.
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter when I see it. She must have every single light turned on. I bet you could see Magnolia Lane from a mile away, the way it's lit up right now.
I should've realized she'd be scared. I never should've let her go home on her own. And if I wasn't so preoccupied by whatever the fuck is going on with Nova, Silas's information bomb, and the possible impending war with the neighboring MCs, I would've noticed. Would've insisted I come with her today.
I don't see any unfamiliar cars, but that doesn't mean shit. There's nothing but open land for acres around these houses. They could be on UTVs or fucking walking for all I know. I should've called in some boys to canvas the area, but I was operating on autopilot. And yeah, maybe I wanted to mete out my specific brand of justice for targeting and scaring my girl.
As soon as I come to a stop in front of her garage door, I jump off my bike and sprint up the walkway. I pull my gun from the back of my pants, and exhale a breath. It doesn't do shit to control my mounting dread, but I do it again anyway.
“I'm here, Evangeline. But I want you to stay hidden until I come to you, yeah? Don't come out for anyone else but me,” I murmur.
“Okay. Be careful, Lincoln.”
“I always am.” I use the spare key I made when she wasn't paying attention the other day and let myself into the house. The element of surprise is probably lost considering my bike is loud as fuck, but I'm not trying to break down Evangeline's door if I can help it.
My chest tightens with worry as I step inside her house. The low hum of a record after it's over fills the space, but I don't hear anything else. I keep my gun up and aimed and I slowly, methodically clear her house.
There's comfort in doing something I've done so many times that I can largely rely on muscle memory to execute.
I go upstairs first, then make my way through the first floor, leaving the garage for last. Finally, I wrap my knuckles on the closet door inside the back hall as I flip the safety on my gun and tuck it into the back of my pants.
“It's me, Evangeline.”
The door opens without a word, and then she's jumping in my arms. I catch her easily, relief washing over me.
“Lincoln,” she breathes, wrapping her arms around me.
And it might be the single best thing I've ever heard in my life.
“Hey, baby girl.” My voice is thick with emotion, my blood pumping double-time from adrenaline.
I close my eyes tight as I hold her against me, one arm wrapped around her middle and the other underneath her ass to hold her up. She's trembling in my hold, and I can feel every inch of her pressed against me.
Finally, she pulls away just enough to look at me. In this position, we're nearly nose-to-nose, our mouths only inches apart. Her dark brown eyes are wide, pupils blown out with fear, and two tears roll down her freckled cheeks.
