Chapter 33
LINCOLN
The sour smell of old stale sweat and piss hung heavily in the air in my holding cell. It invaded my nostrils every time I took a breath.
Fluorescent lighting hummed above my head, flickering more than it actually provided light. My shoes scuffed across the smooth concrete floor as I paced. Black lines from rubber soles and nicks in the concrete told me I wasn’t the first one unable to sit still in there.
The windows had thick bars in front of them, like we were all hardened criminals who were going to try our hands at escaping. The sting of the handcuffs they’d slapped on me days ago still burned at my wrists, but I was pretty sure I was just imagining it at this point.
With my mood flipping violently from extreme to extreme, I was shitty company to anyone who had the misfortune of being dumped in this cell with me. Lucky for them, they came and went within hours.
I was the only one who had occupied this hellhole consistently in the time I’d been there. Thousands of questions sped through my mind, but no one was around to answer them.
The guards were built like solid bookshelves and had the personality of them, too. During my first day, I kept expecting someone to come talk to me. I’d gotten all the facts straight in my head and was more than ready for my statement to be taken.
Unfortunately for me, no one seemed interested in taking it. The guards refused to answer any of my questions, though one had told me the officers would come by when they were “goddamned ready” to.
The cot in the cell was made of metal rungs that dug into my ass when I sat and my back when I tried sleeping. The thin, threadbare mattress and blanket they had generously provided didn’t do shit to help with the discomfort.
And this was coming from someone who was used to sleeping under far worse conditions than this. I’d slept on surfaces ranging from concrete floors just like this one to sand under the stars in faraway lands, and not once had it kept me from getting in at least a few hours.
This time, however, I wasn’t so lucky. I’d tried the floor, but it was my mind keeping me from really getting much sleep more than my surroundings. I could’ve dealt with everything, but the one thing I wasn’t doing well with was not being able to tell Sofia where I was.
God only knew what she was thinking at this point, but I doubted it was good. My only hope was that she knew me well enough by now to know that I hadn’t just left her behind without a word.
The woman consumed my every thought. Even those concerning my future in the Navy.
Whatever happened from there on out, she would play a role in the decisions I made.
If having this time to think had done anything good for me, it was that I’d realized I couldn’t let her go.
I knew she had to go back to campus to finish her studies, and I was hopeful that once this shit show was over, I’d be deployed again.
But as far as I was concerned, neither of those things dictated our future together. Because we would fucking have one.
We had to.
As unlikely as it might be, I was absolutely and unequivocally in love with her.
No one and nothing would keep us apart. Unless of course, she didn’t want to be with me, in which case I’d have to drown myself in a vat of whiskey like every other heartbroken man did before he figured out what the hell to do with himself next.
If, however, she did want me, I would apply every ounce of focus I had to our relationship. My missions had taught me that nothing was impossible if I applied myself, and that was exactly what I would do.
Body, mind, and soul, I would dedicate myself to her, to being better for her and to prove to Charles that I wasn’t the piece of shit he thought I was.
But he and I needed to have a conversation first. The only thing that would keep me from breaking his fucking jaw in so many places that he had to take his meals through a straw for the rest of his life was that I needed him to be able to speak for said conversation.
Also, he was still Sofia’s dad. If I maimed him, it probably wouldn’t win me any points with her. First, though, I needed to get the fuck out of there.
Grunting in frustration as I balled my fists for what had to be the millionth time since I’d been thrown in there, I screwed my eyes shut and tried to channel some semblance of calm.
My attempt was shattered when keys clattered at the lock, and I heard the guards ordering someone into my cell. I wrenched my eyes open to see a mountain of a man stumbling in as they shoved him to my side of the gate.
My new cellmate’s head was shaved clean and tattoos crept out from under his collar. He had to be at least seven feet tall and had eyes as black as night.
Both middle fingers were thrust up at the guards, and a string of curses that echoed my own sentiments flew from his lips.
The bigger guard scowled at him. “Shut it, Dave. It’s not my fault you’re back here.”
Dave smirked and made another, much more obscene gesture at them before pivoting on his heels. When he saw me, he arched a black eyebrow. “Well, well, well another kid in the naughty corner today, huh?”
“Yep.” I turned toward the window, really not in the mood to get to know the guy. The landscape outside was only marginally better than it was in there. It wasn’t even really outside. Just outside of the cell.
A long hallway stretched as far as I could see. It was khaki-colored but clean, with more of the flickering lights and absolutely no personality.
“I’m taking it this is your first time?” Dave asked. A cot squeaked under his mammoth weight as he heaved himself down on it.
“Yep.”
A deep chuckle came from him. It was a surprisingly cheerful sound for a place like this. “You’re really talkative with all those one-word answers, my man. What’s your name?”
“Lincoln.” I rested my head against one of the cool bars, shutting my mouth again.
“I’m Dave,” he offered. “I’m also something of a veteran around here. I know it’s nothing to be proud of, but I’m kinda proud of it.”
“Congratulations,” I muttered.
Clearly, the man didn’t give a fuck about my lack of enthusiasm. “Want to know what I’m in for this time?”
I gritted my teeth, dragging in a deep breath. “Not really.”
“Well, I’ll tell you anyway,” he said. I heard more creaks, and when I opened my eyes to see what had caused them, I saw Dave had spread himself out on the crappy cot like he was lying on a king-sized bed in a luxury hotel.
He seemed to be entirely at peace. His hands were tucked behind his head and his boots were on the floor. He’d crossed his socked feet and was peering at me between eyelashes that were way too long for a man of his size. It was freaky really.
Smirking when he caught my eye, he shook his head without lifting it. “It’s no use trying to ignore me, dude. Trust me. Talking is the only thing that makes time feel like it’s actually passing in this place.”
I sighed but inclined my head. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I don’t even know how many days have passed since they tossed me in here.”
“Days?” His brows rose. “Why are you still in holding?”
Because they don’t have anything to charge me for. “They haven’t processed me yet.”
A deep frown appeared on his massive forehead. “That’s fucked up, man. So they’re just keeping you in purgatory?”
“Yep. I guess it’s better than the alternative, though.”
Dave shuddered, nodding his agreement. “Sure, but obviously, they’re not just keeping you here until you’ve sobered up or something.”
“True, but this also isn’t a drunk tank.”
He shrugged. “Technically, no, but it’s been used as one on occasion.”
“Really? That hardly seems fair.”
Another chuckle came from him. “Nope, but life isn’t fair. Want to come sit down? Maybe my story will cheer you up. It’s funny as fuck.”
“Sure.” Avoiding him hadn’t worked. Maybe he’d stop running his mouth if I just listened for a minute. “What did you do?”
Unexpected humor lit up his eyes as he lifted his back off the mattress and rolled to his side. “I bet a rookie that he couldn’t outdrink me.”
“He took that bet?” I didn’t know the guy, and I could hold my liquor, but he had a definite size advantage.
Dave grinned, displaying yellowing but perfectly straight teeth. “The idiot did, yes.”
“What was the bet?”
“If he won, I’d do his laundry for a week.” His shoulders shook with silent laughter. “But if I won, he had to hit on a woman of my choosing.”
“Who did you choose?” Despite myself, I found my muscles relaxing for the first time in days. Dave’s I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude was refreshing after days of solitude and silence.
He smirked at me, his lips trembling as he tried to hold back his laughter. “I chose our lieutenant’s girlfriend, of course. He didn’t know who she was, but he was too arrogant to listen when the others told him to pass on the bet.”
“I’m assuming he found out who she was? Eventually?”
“He did, but not before getting so drunk that he danced on the bar with her. I might have also sent some shots over to them while he was trying to chat her up.”
“Some?” I crossed my arms. “How many shots did you send over?”
“Only about ten or so.” He laughed, then shrugged his giant shoulders. “It was part of the bet that he had to drink whatever I bought, so he did.”
I cringed on the rookie’s behalf. “What happened?”
“He convinced her to dance on the bar with him, but he didn’t take into account how low the ceiling fan was. It hit him in the head. He grabbed hold of her when he started falling, and both of them took a bit of a tumble.”
“Are they okay?”
He waved a hand at me. “Of course. I’m not a brute. I caught her and one of the others made sure he didn’t hit the ground. As I grabbed hold of her, though, the lieutenant walked in. I should mention that he doesn’t drink at all, and he’s crazy protective of her.”
“I get that.” I couldn’t imagine how I would react to walking in on something like that if Sofia had been involved. “How does that end with you being in here?”
“Apparently, my pranks and stunts are unbecoming of the uniform. I’m being taught a lesson. Why are you here?”
“For killing a guy who talks too much,” I said.
Dave laughed in response. “I’m pretty sure I could take you.” He gave me a long onceover, and suddenly, the humor faded from his expression, and seriousness took its place. He scratched his jaw, frowning at me. “What did you say your name was?”
“Lincoln.”
The frown deepened. “I heard a story about a SEAL named Lincoln. The way I heard it, the guy got dropped into a mission gone to shit but managed to save a whole team. That wouldn’t be you, would it?”
“Nah, that’s just a story, man. You shouldn’t believe everything you hear.” Also, when the fuck had the Navy started gossiping like little kids in middle school?
I almost snorted out loud. Oh, right. Since always.
It was too damn bad the gossips had missed a few vital parts of that story, though. Such as the fact that the Lincoln in question had been on suspension at the time and hadn’t had any fucking idea what he was getting himself into.