Chapter 48
LINCOLN
The roar of Bella’s dual exhausts alerted Lincoln to Donna’s presence. He’d been sleeping at Bella’s house since the day Donna had moved in order to impersonate her sister.
Lincoln got up from the sofa and walked over to the window just as she pulled into the driveway.
For a few seconds, he watched, waiting for Logan, the retired army ranger, who was paying to watch after her.
When Lincoln realized that there were no headlights approaching, he grabbed his pistol from the cocktail table and moved toward the door.
As soon as he grabbed the knob to exit, the sound of a gunshot rang in the quiet night air.
Lincoln snatched the door open and ran on the porch just in time to see a figure, dressed in black, pointing a weapon at Donna. Lincoln raised his weapon, but not fast enough to stop a second shot. Donna’s body jerked, and he nearly collapsed when she did.
Lincoln raised his weapon and aligned the sights to connect with the shooter’s head.
Even though he wanted nothing but to run to Donna, he held a breath, stilled himself, and squeezed the trigger.
The shooter dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes, but Lincoln held his weapon, covering the area from left to right.
After deciding that the threat had been neutralized, he tucked his gun in the back of his pants and ran to Donna.
Lincoln dropped to the pavement and scooped her in his arms. “Donna?” he breathed, praying that she was alive.
Lincoln jumped and pointed his weapon at the sound of screeching tires. When he realized it was Logan pulling up, he returned his attention to Donna. “Baby, can you hear me?”
Relief flooded his brain when she opened her eyes.
“Oh, fuck!” Logan shouted when he reached them.
“Call an ambulance!” Lincoln roared. He cupped Donna’s head and pulled her close to his chest. A warm tear trickled down his cheek as he held her close. “You’re gonna be okay, sweetheart. Help is on the way.”
When Donna grabbed his arm, Lincoln thanked God that she was alive. Silently, he prayed that she would remain so. Using more strength than she should, Donna pushed off his chest. She looked up until their eyes locked. “Vest,” she coughed.
With eyes widened from optimism, Lincoln ran his fingers down his torso. To his shock and delight, Donna was wearing a Kevlar vest.
“Shit!” Donna blurted. “It still fucking hurts!
“I know, babe,” he whispered as he lowered her to the ground and tore her shirt open.
He stuck his hand into the bulletproof vest in search of blood.
Thankfully, the vest had done its job. His fingers were dry.
Lincoln exhaled in relief for the first time since Donna pulled up. “Oh, thank God,” he prayed over a sigh.