The Handler (Noir et Bleu Motorcycle Club #2) (20 page)

Based on how her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open, my speech had a positive impact, but the reaction that followed was not at all what I expected. “When are you going home?” she asked.

“Uh.” The question was a harsh reminder that whatever was going on between us would end soon. The reality hit me in the gut. It didn’t matter how much we cared about each other. It didn’t matter how close we got. Once I went back home and she went back to touring, a relationship couldn’t last. She obviously felt there was no point starting, and she was right. “I haven’t decided yet.” I stepped back so we were arm’s length apart. “What are you going to do with the tour?”

She shivered and hugged her arms around her body. “I don’t know. My dad was right. I can’t manage myself. I’ll probably cancel everything and take some time off to think about what I want to do.” Her gaze scanned across my body and stopped when her eyes met mine. She closed the gap between us again, reached up, and cupped my jaw. “Can we pretend you’re drunk right now?” Her lips parted and her fingertips dug in to pull my face closer.

The proximity of her body, the rhythm of her breathing, and the roundness of her bottom lip were all insanely vivid. It took all of my willpower, but I choked out, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Her hands dropped away from my face.

I sloshed through the surf back to where my clothes were piled on the sand.

Lincoln walked slowly toward me and bent over to pick up her dress. A text lit up my phone. It was from Cisco.

Your pal just landed in Miami. You better put some distance between you and that chick if you want to keep her alive.

I got dressed. Lincoln turned so I would zip her dress back up. “Fireball knows where we are. He just got off a plane in Miami.” I turned away so she wouldn’t see my expression when I said, “We have to go our separate ways.”

“What?” She clasped my wrist to make me face her. “No.”

“Yeah.” My tone was cold, and I felt like a complete asshole for using it on her, but I didn’t know how else to make the break clean. I pulled my arm free and walked toward the road.

“Why now?” She ran to catch up to me.

“Noir et Bleu orders. It’s the only way to protect you.”

“Since when do you follow their orders? This isn’t about protecting me. It’s about what just happened in the water.” She rammed the heel of her hand against my chest to stop me. “It’s about your feelings for me.”

“No, it’s about your safety.” I looked at the ground so she wouldn’t see the pain in my eyes.

“You’re lying.”

“We can’t be together. End of story.”

Chapter Twenty-One

The cab picked us up at the beach. My plan was to take Lincoln back to Hal’s place where Tim, Stan, and Aaron were and carry on to the airport by myself. As we drove, she tried every argument possible to convince me not to leave without her. It was safer for her if I wasn’t anywhere near her, so I shook my head in response to all her attempts to change my mind—until she found the one thing that could make me reconsider. “What about Huck? You promised her that you would take me to meet her.”

“She’ll get over it,” I forced myself to mumble as we pulled up in front of the gate to Hal’s mansion.

“Will she?”

I lowered my voice in case the cab driver was listening, “It’s not safe for you and me to be together. That’s all that matters.”

Her eyes filled up with tears, and her lip quivered.

I couldn’t handle the sight of it, and if I delayed it any longer, I wouldn’t have the strength to leave so I snapped, “Get out of the car, Jailbait. There’s nothing you can say that will make me stay.”

“What if I said I love you?”

It felt as if she had thrust her hand right through my chest and clenched my heart in her fist. I couldn’t breathe, and I had to choke back the emotion that crept into my throat. I couldn’t respond because I knew I would, without a doubt, stay if I acknowledged what she said.

Her voice rose. “You’re not doing this to protect me. You’re doing it to protect yourself because you don’t like not knowing what the future looks like. Well, guess what? Nobody knows what the future looks like. I don’t know where this is going any more than you do, but at least I’m brave enough to take a risk. All you do is make excuses: I have a girlfriend, we have to keep it professional because I work for you, and now, you’re not safe. Cut the bullshit you’ve been feeding yourself. Leaving me here alone doesn’t make me any safer, and you know it. It just makes it less complicated for you.” She choked back a whimper.

I closed my eyes and dug my fists into my thighs. Everything she said was true, except I did know what the future looked like. It looked like me falling hard for her and then being destroyed when it was eventually time for us to go our separate ways. It took all my energy to force the words out, but I said, “I have to go. I’ll text Tim to come out and get you.”

“You’re an asshole.” She pushed the door open, stumbled out onto the sidewalk, and kicked the taxi door closed.

“Hey!” the driver shouted. “Easy on the car.”

“I’ll pay for the damage. Don’t worry about it,” I mumbled.

She stomped toward the keypad for the security gate.

“Are you sure you want to let a girl like that get away?” he asked as he watched her wipe away her tears and pound the buttons to get the gate to open.

“I have no choice.” It felt like the guilt was creating a giant gaping wound in my gut.

“So, next stop is the airport?”

“Yeah,” I sat up and looked out the window at her. “But wait until the gate closes behind her.”

The words had barely left my mouth when two guys dressed in jeans and black hoodies jumped out of the bushes and grabbed her. I leapt out of the cab and sprinted toward them.

The one guy had her by the waist, and his hand was clamped over her mouth. She flailed her arms and legs as they shoved her into the back seat of a waiting black SUV that was parked two cars down on the side of the road. I caught up and rammed my shoulder into the shorter guy, which stunned him, but the second guy punched me in the face. The force knocked me to the ground. He bent over to punch me again. I got a couple swings in, but then they both kicked my ribs repeatedly.

A third pair of motorcycle boots appeared near the front of the SUV. I hoped it was Mug or Kaz, but it wasn’t. I could only see the back of his head. He had dark hair. He shoved the taller guy and slammed him up against the truck. Then he pulled a gun out of the waistband of his jeans, calmly pressed it to the guy’s temple, and pulled the trigger. A deafening crack echoed through the neighborhood as the guy slumped down in a heap beside me. After the reverberation of the gunshot faded, the air became eerily quiet. The short guy put his hands up in surrender. Without the slightest hesitation, the shooter jammed the gun to the base of the guy’s skull and squeezed the trigger. Blood splattered on Lincoln’s face. The body landed heavily on top of her and trapped her in the back seat. She screamed hysterically. The shooter turned his head and looked me right in the eye. The streetlight reflected off the scar on his cheek. I couldn’t breathe. My body flinched, but I couldn’t organize enough motor control to get up from the sidewalk. It was Dewalt. He stared at me for a few seconds, dropped the gun on the ground, and disappeared between the cars.

I scrambled to my feet and surveyed the street. He was gone. Mug and Kaz weren’t anywhere that I could see. Lincoln wiped the blood that had mixed with her tears, which only smeared it around. I heaved the body off her, scooped her up, and carried her in my arms back to the cab. The driver was slouched down in the front seat with his mouth hanging open.

“Take us to the hospital.”

He looked over his shoulder into the backseat. “Was she hit?”

“Just drive.”

He jammed the accelerator to the floor and raced down the street. He picked up his radio and asked dispatch to call the police. After relaying what happened he turned to look over his shoulder and said, “They want to know your names.”

“Brad Cox and Mandy Turlington,” I said without hesitation. When he pulled up to a red light, I opened the door and yanked Lincoln out. We ran down the alley to an adjacent street and then ducked into a sushi restaurant. “Wash the blood off in the bathroom,” I whispered and sheltered her with my jacket as we rushed to the back hall where the bathrooms were.

A few minutes later, when she stepped out of the Ladies’ room she looked a bit better, but still shaken. We snuck out the back service door into an alley and walked quickly to a busy street. I hailed another cab and told the driver to take us to the airport.

“I don’t have my passport on me,” she whispered.

I pulled out my phone and called Hal’s wife. “Hi, Evelyn. It’s Cain.”

“Cain, darling. Where have you and Lincoln been? Her father has been so worried.” She lowered her voice, “He’s getting a little sloshed.”

“She couldn’t handle the cemetery. We went to the beach and she said her own special goodbye. Privately.”

“That’s probably for the best. It was very difficult to watch them lower the casket. It all seems so final at that point. The song she sang was so beautiful. He would have loved it. I should have spent more time with him. What was I thinking? Life is so short, so short. We shouldn’t take anything for granted. Don’t take the people you care about for granted, Cain.” She paused and took a deep breath and I tried to jump in, but she carried on. “It’s been a tough day. You should head back to the house. There are so many people here to see Lincoln. Actually, I’m not sure if you’ll be able to get to the house right now. The police have the neighborhood taped off for some reason. Someone said it was a shooting. Can you believe that? A shooting in this area. Please. We have our fair share of drunk drivers and the occasional domestic dispute, but never shootings. Hal would have insisted that I move if he knew about a shooting in the neighborhood. He was a good man. I should have spent more time with him.” She blew her nose, and I attempted to break in to tell her why I called, but she kept talking. “We have so much food here, so come back as soon as you can. The crew has—”

“Evelyn, sorry to cut you off, but I don’t have a lot of time. We’re taking off. Lincoln isn’t up to seeing everyone at the house. Do you think Ralston would be able to bring our bags to the airport?”

“He’s swamped with the reception, but I can send my assistant, Carol. I’ll give her your number. She’ll call you when she’s there. Are you sure you don’t want to stay longer?”

“Thanks for the offer, but Lincoln needs some time to herself.”

“Okay, darling. Tell her that she’s welcome to stay here whenever she needs. Hal thought of her as a daughter, and my home is her home. Take good care of her.”

I looked over at Lincoln who was still shaking. “I will. Thanks for everything.”

After I hung up, I texted Tim to tell him we were taking off and that I would update him with the details once our flight was booked. The cab dropped us off in front of the airport, and we sat on a bench underneath a palm tree to wait for Carol. There was a security guard stationed twenty feet away, and there was no way for someone to approach us unnoticed. Lincoln’s dress was made of a light fabric, so I wrapped my suit jacket around her shoulders and hugged her into my chest.

“Do you still think it’s a good idea to go our separate ways?” she asked with a bite to her tone.

“I don’t know what to think anymore.”

She sat up and looked around to see if anyone was within earshot. She lowered her voice. “Why would he shoot his own guys and then walk away without even touching us?”

I shook my head. “I have no idea.”

“I don’t understand why your dad’s friends haven’t taken care of it.”

“Digger said there was some sort of complication.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know.”

I considered phoning Mug or Cisco to tell them what happened, but I was cautious because it seemed suspicious to me that Mug and Kaz weren’t at the mansion when it happened. I also had no idea who the two guys who tried to take Lincoln were, so I didn’t want to give up too much information to anybody. Instead, I texted Mug a vague message:

Heading out of town. Will send a message when situated.

Lincoln was pale and crying again when I looked up. I leaned over to kiss her forehead. “I’m sorry.”

“For which part?”

“For getting you mixed up in this mess.” I inhaled and let the air out slowly to reduce the anxiety that was brewing inside me. “And I’m sorry I tried to leave you. You need to know that it’s the last thing on earth I wanted to do.”

“But you were willing to do it.”

“If it meant you would be safer, yes. But if you’re in danger either way, I’d rather be with you.”

She sighed and sunk against my chest. “I would rather be with you, too.”

I knew I was all in at that point, no more excuses. And the thought of losing her for any reason terrified me.

We sat in silence for the next half hour. I was anxious to get inside and through security where nobody would have a weapon. After Carol dropped off our stuff, Lincoln and I went up to the ticket counter. The earliest flight to Vancouver wasn’t for another four hours, and I didn’t want to lure Dewalt close to my sister, so I booked two tickets on a flight to Montreal instead. Lincoln looked at me funny, but she didn’t say anything until we had passed through security and were waiting at the gate. “Is your sister in Montreal?”

“No.”

“Why are we going there?”

“It gets us out of here faster. Nobody will know where we are for a while. Plus, a lot of my dad’s friends still live in Montreal. Since Digger refuses to tell me anything about Fireball’s real identity, I can ask around and maybe find out on my own who Frenchie Dewalt is.”

“Cain.” She lowered her voice. “Are you crazy?”

Before I had a chance to answer, two girls who looked like sisters skipped over with paper and a pen. They were whispering to each other. “I’m positive it’s her.”

The older one wrinkled her nose and said, “I don’t think it is. Her hair is too messy.”

“But that’s her boyfriend. For sure.”

“Just ask her then.” The taller one pushed her sister in the shoulder, which made her stumble toward us.

“Excuse me, are you Lincoln Todd?”

Lincoln glanced at me before she said, “No, but I get asked that all the time. Sorry to disappoint you.”

The little sister looked crushed. The older one looked smug. “I told you it wasn’t her.” She walked back over to where their dad was sitting, but the little one stared at me. She pulled a magazine out of her bag and glanced at the photos, then back at me. She smiled when she realized it was us. She was about to turn to call her sister back.

I quickly asked, “Can you keep a secret?”

The girl nodded and smiled at Lincoln.

“You were right, but it’s important that you don’t tell anyone that you saw us until after we leave—not even your sister. Can you do that?”

She nodded again.

“Come here, sweetie,” Lincoln said. The girl stepped closer. “What’s your name?”

“Rachel.”

Lincoln signed the piece of paper for her. Then she reached into her bag and pulled out a bracelet with an L charm hanging from it. “This is really special to me. Will you wear it as a reminder that you met me?”

The girl nodded and held her wrist out for Lincoln to latch the bracelet. “Thanks,” Rachel breathed out almost inaudibly.

Lincoln squeezed her hand. “Okay, don’t forget to keep our secret until after our plane leaves.”

She nodded and pulled her sleeve down to hide the bracelet. She went back to sit down next to her sister. She was jiggling and fidgeting. It was obvious that she was nearly bursting at the seams wanting to blurt out her news. Fortunately, our plane started boarding, so I ushered Lincoln through the gate. It didn’t make a difference, though. A bunch of people on the plane recognized her, too. Half of them had their phones out likely tweeting or texting about how we were on our way to Montreal.

“Sorry,” she said to me.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Being recognized is one of the side effects of being famous.”

“It was me who the little girl recognized. I need to change my look.” I sighed and tried not to have a panic attack.

“On the bright side, you’ll probably look good as a blonde.” She jabbed her elbow into my ribs to try to make me smile. It didn’t work. The engines rumbled as we pulled away from the gate, and I hyperventilated. Lincoln caught the attention of the flight attendant and sweet talked her into giving her some alcohol.

I shook my head when she tried to hand it to me.

She laughed. “What? Now you’re more afraid to get drunk and accidentally tell me how you really feel than you are to fly?”