Chapter 17 Lincoln
LINCOLN
THE LIES I TELL
“Ineed more time.”
With the phone pressed to my ear and my eyes scouring Nova’s shed, I search through every drawer, every toolbox, every hidey hole, gap between tools, and up in the rafters, to make sure Ryan didn’t leave his secret cache up there.
“I’m doing my fucking best, Aster. Seven days isn’t enough time to slide into a woman’s home and search for a thing when we don’t know what it is or what it looks like.”
“Your deadline ends tomorrow.” He exhales a plume of cigar smoke and sits up in his ivory tower, pulling strings and screwing with people’s lives. “You knew the parameters of the job before it began, but now you come to me at the eleventh hour and ask for more time?”
“A week isn’t long enough!” I snatch a ladder from the corner and spread the legs to make an A-frame.
Climbing up, I get above the rafters and glance amongst the dust and mouse shit.
“I’ve searched the house already. I sent you packages two days in a row.
How about you give me some answers? Was the watch important?
What about the USB sticks? What about the fucking tablet I sent over?
It had no charge, but it was in the bottom of his duffel, which means it was his. ”
“USBs were decoys, just like you said they would be. The watch was useless. The tablet was cleared, as in,” he pauses for emphasis. “Nichols wiped it before he died.”
Stunned, I lower my gaze and set one hand on my hip. “He factory reset it?”
“Looks that way. I’ve got it with my tech guys now to see what they can pull. You don’t wipe a device unless you want information to disappear.”
“So, I found it, then?” Slowly, I climb back down to the dusty shed floor and lean against the ladder with my elbow on one of the highest rungs. “The thing is Nichols’ iPad? He wiped it for a reason, and now you have it. The mission is complete.”
“The mission ain’t complete til I have my code, and I told you a week ago, I needed it by tomorrow.”
For fuck’s sake. I’m not done.
Pushing straight and re-folding the ladder, I put it back where I found it, careful to angle it exactly how it was when I came in.
Turning to a wall of tiny drawers designed to hold nuts and bolts and washers and all sorts of shit, I start at the top left and search each one. “Did you send the watch back now that it’s cleared?”
Faking obliviousness, he exhales. “The watch?”
“The fucking watch, Aster!” I slam the first drawer and move to the next. “The family fucking heirloom Nova will eventually miss. If she realizes it’s gone, your mission is dead anyway. That watch. Did you put it in the mail?”
“I’ll send Priscilla down today to take care of it.” I don’t see his face, I don’t fucking have to, to know this motherfucker smirks. “It’s not a priority. By the time it arrives, your seven days are up, anyway.”
“I need more than seven days!” I tug screws from the little drawer, risking tetanus when the rusted ends stab my palm.
“I don’t give a fuck what your deadline is, Aster.
She has something that you want, and despite my best efforts, we haven’t recovered it yet.
Seven days was a want. What’s your need? ”
“My need?” Devastatingly calm, he hums in the back of his throat.
“I need the fucking code. I chose you to save her life. I’ll send Tank next to save the mission.
” He shrugs, the rustle of his starchy shirt scraping through the line.
“I don’t give a fuck if she lives or dies, kid.
My only concern is the code. So, if you’re saying you can’t get the job done… ”
“Do not send Tank.” I slam my phone on the counter and hit the speaker button.
Gripping the edge of old, splintered wood, I stretch my arms and fold my back, expanding my shoulders.
I allow a growl to crawl along my throat and bounce off my tongue because, if I don’t, I might tear this entire fucking shed apart.
For Nova’s sake, I need to separate her and the code. If Aster comes to town, or worse, Tank, I’m not entirely sure she’ll survive the encounter.
“I need more time.” I soften my tone and bite down on the feral anger pulsing in my veins.
The desire to fight instead of comply. The fucking hunger to kill a man to save a woman.
“Please, Richard. You called me, remember? If you had wanted Tank to do this, you would’ve sent him in the first place.
You pulled me out of retirement for a reason, so give me more time to do my job. ”
“You sound emotionally invested.” He chuckles, though the sound is more like a wet cough. “You enjoy your date?”
Stunned, I shove straight and glance toward the closed double doors leading into the backyard. “You’ve been watching me?”
“Consider it a performance evaluation. I’d like to think that romantic kiss you shared was an attempt at earning her trust, and not because you’ve caught a crush.
The first will hurt her heart when you’re done and leave town.
The second,” he inhales again, “well, that’s gonna hurt your heart when Tank ties her to his bed and does whatever he needs to do to secure the item. ”
“She doesn’t even know what the item is!
” My voice echoes off the walls and reverberates back, booming in my ears.
If she’s near, I’ve blown my cover anyway.
“Sending Tank is nothing more than gratuitous rape, and you fucking know it. If that’s what gets you off, then admit it.
But don’t send that motherfucker and pretend he’ll do a better job than I am.
I’m in her home, Aster, and I’m looking.
You know this because I’ve sent you shit already.
” My phone vibrates with an incoming call, Nova’s name flashing over the top of Richard’s. “Shit! Goddammit!”
“Problem?”
“She’s calling me right now. Let me take it and see if I can get closer. But Richard?” I’m silent for a beat, staring down at both names on my screen. “You still there?”
He pulls a long draw from his cigar. “Mmhm.”
“I need more time.” I end his call and accept the other before it drops out. Filling my lungs with fresh oxygen, I tamp down on the rage bubbling in my blood. The pure, unadulterated fucking ferociousness that would have me switching loyalties in a second.
Choosing between Richard Aster and Nova Nichols? Easiest decision I’d ever make.
“Hey.” I exhale and snatch up my phone, taking her off speaker. “You okay?”
“Uh…” She hesitates, her breath a shaky, stilted sound in my ear. “Not really. Could you take an hour this afternoon to come down to the lawyer’s office with me?”
“The lawyer’s office?” My brows jump high in question. “Um… why? We’re not even that serious yet.”
She chokes out a soft, silly laugh, only to end it with a gut-wrenching sniffle that sets my pulse sprinting.
“Ryan left a package with them, I guess. Before he died. I figure they should’ve given it to me the first time we spoke after the accident, but they said he stipulated the timeline of deliveries. He was specific.”
“D-do you know what’s in the package?” Dread fills my stomach, and the thick black sludge of regret follows right after. “Like, did he have a super special Gameboy or something?”
She snickers and whimpers. Devastation and strength in one. “He had a Gameboy, but I’m pretty sure it’s at the house. I know we’re not that serious, Lincoln, so you can say no. But if you’re not busy and you don’t mind—”
“I don’t mind.” I glance back at the screws I pulled from the little drawer and start putting them back. “What time do you want me there?”
“Now? Ten minutes from now.” She sits back, her chair groaning with the movement. “The office is just a few doors from here, so I can walk down in a matter of minutes. But I can wait for you if you can get away from wherever you are.”
“I can get away.” As quietly as I can, I drop the last few screws into the drawer and push it back into its slot. “Give me ten minutes, and I’ll meet you outside the bank. Alright?”
“Yeah.” She sniffles, her desk phone trilling in the background, and her email dinging for attention. “Hey, Linc?”
“Yeah, babe?” I back up to the middle of the shed and turn a full three-sixty, making sure everything is where it should be. “What’s up?”
“Thanks for helping. Not just today… I mean, always. Yours was the only presence I appreciated at his funeral. You came to me during my electricity situation. You’ve been here for way more tears than I care to admit.”
I tap my pockets to make sure I have everything I came in here with. Keys and a phone. “Crying women make me uncomfortable. It’s true.”
“I swear I don’t normally behave like this.” Yet, her voice breaks. “I’ve cried more in the last two weeks than I have, like, ever. It’s embarrassing.”
“Don’t let it get you down.” I walk to the shed doors and peek outside. “I’d be way more humiliated about being afraid of the dark.”
“Oh, shut up!” She laughs, soothing the ache biting at my soul. “I’ll see you soon. Don’t take too long because I’m curious as hell, and there’ll come a point I don’t care if you’re there or not.”
“Good to know where I stand.” Slipping out of the shed and turning back to close the doors, I cast a cursory glance toward the house before spinning the other way and jogging straight toward the trees. On the other side is my house, and soon after that, her. “I’ll see you in a bit.”