Chapter 15
Lincoln's POV
That’s the sound of my phone. My eyes open. I’m still on my back where I knocked out last. My wife is slightly off to the side now, her left arm and left leg still draped over me. I’m completely naked, my boxers pushed down past my waist.
Man… that was some good sex.
God, I needed that so bad. I smile over at her. My beautiful wife. My bride.
When I look over at the nightstand, I see my phone lighting up, and what surprises me is the way my heart flutters for a quick beat. I never expected to see this person calling me.
It’s Sarah.
What does she want?
She never calls me on a Sunday.
And I’m aware that Sarah and I have gotten a lot closer lately.
Maybe I overshared with her… something I kind of regret.
I’ve been trying to put that boundary back in place, but it’s so damn hard with her.
Sarah just makes it easy to talk to her, easy to be around her, and honestly, aside from last night, it’s felt easier being around Sarah than being around my own wife.
Sarah understands my stress. She sees it firsthand every single day we work together.
She’s also… very sweet. Caring with everyone.
Something I’ve tried hard not to fall prey to.
But I’ve been drowning. And she’s the farthest removed from my home situation, so I figured it would be easier to talk to her about things.
What did I talk to her about?
I look at Gabby sleeping and slide out of the bed gingerly. I have no idea why I’m acting like I need to hide. Maybe because Gabby really doesn’t like this woman, and understandably so.
Part of me regrets ever telling my wife that Sarah liked me.
But I believe in honesty. Every time some girl came onto me, I always told Gabby.
Something I learned from her, because she always told me whenever men hit on her.
Some of them even had the audacity to do it right in front of me.
Something I was always ready and willing to shut down immediately.
I’m tall and for the most part athletic, even though I’ve lost a bit of muscle from being too busy to work out like I used to. But at 6'5, that’s usually enough to deter most people. Plus, my little wife told me once that I have one of those “I’m going to fuck you up” faces.
Honestly, I don’t feel like that most of the time. But if it keeps people away from Gabby, then it’s a good thing. Especially when I don’t even have to do much.
I head quietly down to the living room and answer the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hey Lincoln. I’m so sorry to bother you,” Sarah’s high-pitched voice comes through the line.
My dick throbs.
Why the fuck is my dick throbbing?
Maybe it’s the way she sounds. She’s never called my personal phone like this. Well, once in a blue moon, but only for work.
“No it’s fine. What’s going on,” I ask, figuring it’s about work.
She chuckles, and it sounds so husky, almost like she just woke up too.
Now I’m thinking about what she looks like when she wakes up.
She’s always so put together. I’ve never seen her with messy hair…
in a nightgown… in her bra and panties… or whatever it is she wears.
And my brain won’t stop painting that picture.
What she’d look like with her clothes off.
My dick is standing at full attention now.
Why am I so fucking horny?
My mind goes somewhere it shouldn’t, but she pulls me back.
“Hehe, are you there?” she asks.
“Y-yeah. Yup. Why are you calling me on my phone?”
“I didn’t have another way to reach you. I kind of need… I didn’t know who else to call.”
Something must be wrong.
“Are you all right,” I ask.
“Um… I mean that depends.”
“Well…” I look back up the stairs, making sure my wife isn’t listening. “You need to tell me and stop talking in riddles.”
“Are you busy right now? If you’re busy with… like your wife or something, it’s okay. I can try to find someone else.”
“Sarah… just tell me what it is. If I can help you, I’ll help you. If I can’t, I’ll let you know.”
That’s the truth. But Sarah’s always been there for me, so now it feels like I owe her something too. Hopefully it’s nothing too complicated. She never asks me for anything, so if she’s asking… it’s serious.
“It’s very embarrassing, but can you pick me up?”
“Pick you up? From where?”
“An ex-boyfriend’s house. My car broke down when I was trying to leave.”
You’ve got to be kidding me.
How the hell am I supposed to get involved in that? How is it going to look if I show up at some ex’s place to grab her? I know how men are when it comes to their women, because I’m the same with mine.
Why is Sarah even at her ex’s house?
Who is this ex?
Is she still fucking him?
And why is that any of my concern anyway?
“Can’t you call a ride?” I ask, trying to be reasonable.
“I mean I could but… it’s okay,” she says, and that break in her voice makes me feel uneasy.
What would be the reason that Sarah would call me specifically to pick her up and not a ride? Maybe she feels threatened. The rides are obligated that if they feel like their life is in danger, they can just take off and call the police. Is Sarah in danger?
“Sarah, are you okay?”
“Um…”
I hear a male voice in the background. Sarah yells something that I can’t understand. The male voice says something again and Sarah yells.
“I told you to go away!” Sarah screams angrily.
“Get back in the fucking house. You don’t get to fucking walk away from me when you do that shit, you fucking bitch.”
I feel my heart pound in rage. Regardless of what is going on between these two, I feel an intense need to protect Sarah. She’s my assistant, maybe even more than that at this point with how closely we work together.
“Sarah, ping me the location. I’m coming to get you.”
“No it’s okay, don’t worry about it,” she says, then she hangs up the phone on me.
I’m breathing hard, pacing the living room now as I call her back.
“Baby?” Gabby’s voice scares the shit out of me, causing me to jump a little.
“You scared me,” I say, not wanting to deal with this right now.
“I’m sorry. Everything okay?” she asks, wrapping her arms around herself, wearing one of my white shirts.
“Yeah… I… um… I got to go into work for a little while,” I say.
“What?” She looks disappointed. “But it’s Sunday.”
“Yeah… it’s kind of an emergency. I’m sorry, baby,” I say, walking over to her and giving her a kiss on the lips.
When I try to leave to get my keys to the car I barely drive, she gently pulls my wrist. God damn it, I need to leave.
I can’t tell the truth and say that Sarah is in danger because it’s going to start a whole bunch of shit, and I don’t want to lie to my wife.
And the longer I stay here is the more lies that…
“What’s really going on? Your phone was ringing and you’re down here whispering to someone. What is so bad that you feel like you have to hide it from me?” she asks suspiciously.
Fucking hell.
For just once in my life, I wish my wife wasn’t so damn nosy. Things would be so much easier, less dramatic, less tense. I weigh the options in my mind. If I have to deal with this past this, I’m going to have to make up more lies.
So I do what I think is best.
“Babe… I didn’t want to worry you but… and I know how you feel but I want to be honest with you,” I start.
Gabby just looks up at me with her pretty hazel eyes. Eyes that ring true, beautifully contrasted by her dark brown skin.
“Sarah is having some trouble. I think she’s in danger.”
“Why doesn’t she call the cops?”
“Because it’s probably something that will get her in more trouble.”
“And you think it’s a good idea to get involved because?” she asks wearily, and I can tell there’s a bit of fear there.
“I’ll be okay. But she needs someone to pick her up.”
As soon as Gabby rolls her eyes, I can tell this is going to be an issue. I should have just left as soon as possible instead of asking Sarah a bunch of questions.
“And you’re the only person on the entire planet that she can call?”
“I kind of look out for her, I mean…”
“It’s Sunday.”
“Babe… if you were in that situation and there was nobody available, I would want you to call who you trust. She’s probably calling me because she knows that I’m tall and imposing, like you said.”
Gabby just looks at me, and my phone rings again, pulling my attention.
“Sarah?” I say, trying my best to put on a more formal voice than I usually have with her.
“Yeah, I’m walking down the block away. He keeps threatening me and I’m scared.”
“Is he following you?” I ask her, getting my shoes on and gesturing to Gabby to do the same.
Rolling her eyes, Gabby runs back up the stairs to get herself ready.
“I don’t think so,” Sarah says, the wind against the receiver of her phone. “I’m sending you the location.”
“Okay. I’ll be there,” I say.
I feel like I’m on a mission, and after about five minutes of me calling Gabby to hurry up, we both get in my car and head ten minutes away to where I see Sarah standing by the side of the road.
Gabby’s in the passenger seat and remains there as I get out of the car.
It was quite merciful that my wife didn’t give me an earful on the way here, aside from the trivial questions like what street it was on and what was going on. I only told her what I knew.
As I get out, looking around, the sun bright in our faces, Sarah surprises me by throwing her arms around me and crying.
I look over my shoulder, surprised, my wife glaring at me. Jesus Christ. I hug Sarah but only for a short while. Ordinarily I would hug her longer in a situation like this, you know, since a woman is in distress.
But for the sake of my wife watching, I let her go and hold her shoulders, leaning down to look at her.
“Where is your ex?”
“He’s back at the house down there in the white one,” she says, pointing.
“Okay, come on. My wife is in the car,” I say loudly enough so Gabby can hear.
I don’t know why I do that. Maybe it’s because there’s a little bit of fear that Sarah is going to say something inappropriate.
Opening the door for Sarah in the back, she crawls in, looking up at me before I close the door with that sweet smile of hers. Her pretty hair has waves in it, and her cheeks and her nose are flushed like she’s been crying, which she has.
Seeing her face flush like that makes me feel strange. I’ve never seen her like that before, and it just seems wrong. Sarah’s face shouldn’t be one coated in tears.
Despite the awkwardness of the situation, I feel… proud. Proud that I could be there and rescue Sarah.
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