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“Fine.”
“Fine.”
“Fine,” she huffed. “Parker, why are you not talking to Linc?”
“Ask him.”
“Do you not know how interviews work?” she demanded with a huff.
Parker looked from her back to him. “The last time we spoke, I asked you to be honest with me. What was going on? Why did you turn tothem?”
“Watch it.”
“Talk to me, Linc,” Parker stressed, his eyes pleading. “Please.”
Vivi placed her hand in his and when he looked at her, she gave an encouraging smile.
“She doesn’t know about the accident.”
“What accident?” Vivi asked, frowning.
He waited, knowing Parker would tell her. It wasn’t a moment he wanted to relive, but it seemed like he didn’t have a choice.
“Seven years ago, Linc wrapped his car around a tree,” Parker told her. “He wasn’t expected to live, but somehow, he survived that first night. And the next and the next, until the doctors were optimally hopeful he would recover.”
“Oh,” she said softly, eyes wide. The hazel depths swirled with fear, worry, and horror. Clearly, she hadn’t expected that explanation.
“To reduce the swelling in his brain, they had to remove some of his skull plate,” Parker continued. “They put him into a medically induced coma. A week later, they put the plate back and started to wake him up. Linc had to learn some things over because he had a traumatic brain injury. I never thought … I thought I was getting my brother back, but once physical rehab was over, he disappeared.”
Vivi tilted her head. “Where did you go, Lincoln?”
“My head was a mess,” he answered quietly. “Figuratively and literally. The TBI left me with debilitating headaches. They were killing me, but I didn’t want to turn to drugs or booze. So, I found an alternative.”
Parker let out an irritated sigh. “What does that even mean?”
Lincoln knew the time had come. Whether or not Parker believed him, he knew he had to come clean. “Have you ever heard of Nikolay Demidov?”
Both she and Parker shook their heads.
“He’s part of the Reznikov Bratva.” At their continued blank looks, he sighed. “The Russian mob.”
“I did not see that coming,” Vivi muttered.
“I ended up in Kansas City, with the underground fight ring run by Demidov, and I became really good at winning. It’s where I met Thorn. He was the one who brought me into the Death Riders. Learned I was an accountant and basically asked me to join. I said yes.”
“Butwhy?” Parker demanded. “I just want you to tell me why.”
He spread both hands flat on the table surface. The dark colors of the tattoos on his fingers were striking. “Because of this.”
“Your tattoo?”
“The migraines were crippling, but I discovered with every punch, the pain dimmed. Like I was punching them away. So, I fought and fought and that’s when I discovered I could manipulate pain.”
Vivi’s eyebrows shot up. Parker looked confused, but before Linc could go into detail, the server returned with their orders. None of them, however, felt like eating.
“What do you mean?” Parker asked once they were alone again.
“Exactly what I said. I can magnify the pain with every hit.”
