9. Lincoln
LINCOLN
“Didn’t realise Kimberly was into marking people up. Or was it someone else?”
“Huh?” I glanced up at Jasper Campbell, who was staring at my neck with a smirk on his face.
Oh, shit. The mark. Fucking Hoyton.
The party felt as if it had been a dream.
No, a nightmare. Kimberly had left a tiny hickey on my neck.
Barely even noticeable, more of a smudge than anything else.
Then Daniel Hoyton was at my throat, the morning after watching me get my dick sucked, covering her mark with a hickey that was noticeable from outer space.
I didn’t want to think about what had happened afterwards. It was a moment of insanity, fuelled by rage.
No one else got to me the way he did, and that was a big problem. If this Operation Foxglove was going to bring him into my vicinity more regularly, then I needed to take precautions.
“Yeah. I guess I’m just that irresistible,” I said, smirking right back at Jasper. “What about you? Get lucky at the party?”
“Obviously.” He lowered his voice, glancing over at our captain. “Heard Fontana got lucky with two women at the same time.”
“You know I can hear you,” Enzo said drily.
He sauntered over, fully dressed in his hockey gear, and clapped Jasper on the back.
“Get your facts right, Campbell. It was two women at different times. Yes, they were both aware, and yes, they were both left satisfied. Any other questions? No? Good. Enough talk about your dicks. We’ve got a game to prepare for.
We played like shit against Cranham, and we can’t afford to lose the next game.
That means we need to put in a hundred and ten percent in practice. Got it?”
“Got it.” Campbell saluted him before moving back to his own bench. Enzo reached into the cubby next to me, rummaging around, and then threw something to me. I reflexively caught it.
“Cover that shit up, Bells,” he said, nodding towards the neck guard. Amusement danced in his eyes. “I need everyone focused on the puck, not your vampire marks.”
“Yeah, alright,” I groaned. When he’d disappeared to have a word with Coach Malkin, I grabbed my phone from my gym bag, tapping out a message.
@linkb_flames:
you have a lot to fucking answer for
@danhfirestarter:
shouldn’t you be in practice?
@linkb_flames:
know my schedule do you? stalker
@danhfirestarter:
in case you forgot we share a rink. i know the rink schedule. what the fuck is your problem now
Glancing around me to make sure none of my teammates were paying attention, I discreetly snapped a photo of the side of my throat and sent it to Daniel.
@danhfirestarter:
let’s forget that ever happened
@linkb_flames:
i’d love to if you hadn’t left such an obvious mark. fucking hell what were you thinking? my teammates are taking the piss
A photo came through. Deep bruising on a throat, standing out in sharp relief in the harsh strip lighting of wherever Daniel was. I inhaled sharply, despising the tremor in my hand as my grip tightened on my phone.
It buzzed again with another message.
@danhfirestarter:
i’m a redhead with pale skin. imagine how much more obvious this shit is on me you dickhead
no ones giving me shit for it tho so sucks to be you
literally
@linkb_flames:
ha fucking ha. don’t ever do that again
@danhfirestarter:
don’t let anyone else leave marks on you again then
My mouth fell open as I stared down at the words on my screen. He wasn’t implying what I thought he was implying, was he? Or was it a threat?
@linkb_flames:
are you threatening me? what the fuck is your problem?
@danhfirestarter:
just fuck off and die
I shoved my phone back in my bag, not willing to engage with him any longer. I needed to get my head in the game. That was the only thing that mattered right now. My teammates were counting on me to put in the effort in this training session.
With that in mind, I fitted my neck guard and joined the rest of the Flames on the ice.
“Ten more minutes. Bellingham. Campbell. Passing dynamic drills. Now. Fontana. With me.” Coach blew his whistle, and I skated across the rink to join Jasper for a set of defensive drills.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a lone figure sitting among the sparse pockets of spectators.
This was an open practice, which meant anyone could show up to watch, but few did.
Mostly partners of the players or people waiting for one of the public sessions to begin.
This person stood out a mile, not least because of the cut of his bespoke Henry Poole suit and the severe expression on his face.
My father.
What was he even doing here? He’d never attended any of my games.
The very fact that Vincenzo Fontana was the Flames’ captain meant he immediately associated the team with criminals and corruption.
Then again, even if we’d had a more “suitable” captain, I doubted he would’ve come.
He’d never been to any of my school lacrosse games, either.
He noticed me watching him, and he jerked his head towards the exit.
Sorry, Dad. You’re gonna have to wait a bit longer.
Grasping my stick in my right hand, I held up my left, opening and closing my fingers twice.
Ten minutes, I mouthed, and his brows drew together.
I turned back to Jasper, doing my best to put my father out of my mind, but I could feel his gaze boring into me as I moved across the ice.
It made me fumble what should’ve been a simple pass, and my teammate shot me a quizzical look.
“Everything okay, bro?”
“Yeah. Sorry.” Focus, Link. With an effort, I managed to make it through the final ten minutes of practice.
Instead of heading for a much-needed shower, I left my stick in the care of Jasper and tugged off my helmet before making my way over to where my father was now standing at the edge of the rink.
“Lincoln.”
“Dad. This is…unexpected.” I ran my gloved hand through my sweaty hair, and my father grimaced.
I was suddenly thankful to Enzo for insisting on the neck guard, because my father would definitely have had something to say about my temporary neck decoration.
He had a lot to say about things he didn’t find suitable.
And if I ever dared to wear anything other than long sleeves in front of him, reminding him I’d voluntarily marked my skin with tattoos…
Suffice to say, that wasn’t an experience I wanted to repeat.
It wasn’t worth the inevitable fallout when he went off at me about how Bellinghams were supposed to uphold certain standards.
Sometimes you had to choose your battles, especially when it came to my father.
“Go and shower.” His lip curled. “I can smell you from here. Why you enjoy this hobby, I have no idea. Your brother certainly wouldn’t have.”
“Yeah, sorry.” My gaze dropped to my skates. What was it about Harold Bellingham that made me feel like that little kid again, the kid who could never live up to his impossible expectations? “I came straight over because I didn’t think you’d want to wait around.”
“I don’t. Be quick.”
Seven minutes later, showered and dressed in jeans and a simple red Whelford hoodie, with the hood strategically arranged to hide the mark on my neck, I rejoined my father on the tiered seating.
He didn’t bother looking up at me, tapping at his phone screen, and I waited silently until he was ready to speak.
Eventually, he cleared his throat. “I want to speak to you about your uncle.” I inhaled sharply, but I did my best to keep my face impassive as he continued to speak.
“You may or may not be aware that he’s working on an investigation code named Operation Foxglove.
It targets several gangs operating in rural areas. ”
I kept my expression as blank as possible, lifting my shoulder in a shrug.
“Uh. I think I’ve heard the name, but I don’t know any details. He doesn’t talk to me about active investigations.”
My father huffed impatiently. “I’ve contacted several people in my network with no luck, and I need you to find out if he’s investigating the Hoyton Firm. If not, I’d like you to suggest to him that he may wish to direct his attention towards them.”
“What? Why me? Why would Mike even listen to me?”
“Because you have an advantage. An in with the network. Neil Hoyton trusts me as much as I trust him, which is to say, not at all, given the bad blood between us, but you… You’re in an advantageous position.
Daniel Hoyton is your age, and he plays this…
ice hockey.” His mouth twisted in distaste.
“Use your resources. If the Hoyton Firm aren’t part of the investigation, make sure they are.
Find something of interest that will gain Michael’s attention. ”
“No. I can’t do that.”
“You can and will if you don’t want to face unpleasant consequences.
I rarely ask you for anything, Lincoln. I let you live your life as you wish.
” Yeah, except for making me study law so I can follow in your footsteps—the only acceptable career for me in your eyes.
“I know Daniel Hoyton is beneath you, son, and ordinarily I wouldn’t ask you to associate with such lowlifes.
But this is a unique situation. We have a chance at rooting out these disgusting criminal gangs, and I will finally have closure. ”
So that was what this was about. Revenge.
He was such a hypocrite. He didn’t care about getting rid of local crime.
He was perfectly happy cosying up to the Thorpes and the Volkovs when it suited him.
No, this was about the fact that he wanted to get his own back for the Culverhouse case he’d spectacularly lost, the dark shadow still hanging over his impeccable career record.
“Spell it out. What exactly are you asking me to do?”
His expression hardened. “Don’t play stupid with me, boy. I want you to dig deep. Find out something your uncle can use, and then nudge him in the right direction. It should be easy. These are lowlife, two-bit criminals. They’re not masterminds.”
Now was not the time to bring up the fact that these “two-bit criminals” had managed to win a court case against him. As far as I was aware, they hadn’t even had official representation other than basic legal advice.
“Dad…”
He looked at me then, and it was as if he could see straight through me. His lips curved into a humourless smile. “Come on, son. Don’t you want to take Daniel Hoyton down a peg or two? I know there is bad blood between the two of you.”
“Yeah,” I admitted. But that wasn’t the issue, was it? This involved multiple people and me doing my father’s dirty work. “But I don’t think—”
My father sighed heavily. “I didn’t want to have to resort to this, but I’ll let you in on a little secret.
Some people are highly motivated by money.
Wouldn’t it be a shame if Matilda’s mother was incentivised to gain full custody, rather than her current fifty-fifty arrangement, and Michael was no longer even allowed to visit? ”
Tilly. My jaw dropped as I stared at the man who shared my DNA, a man who’d never felt more like a stranger than he did right then. “You wouldn’t,” I whispered.
“Do not underestimate the lengths I will go to in order to see my goals achieved. Be reasonable, Lincoln. I’m not asking for much here.
A simple bit of digging, and Operation Foxglove can take care of the rest.” He rose to his feet.
“See that you keep up your end of the bargain, and nothing will have to change for your uncle and cousin.”