Chapter 12 Lincoln
“Hello?”
“Boss, we have a problem.”
I slowly slid Laynie’s head off my lap. She looked so peaceful sleeping on me.
“What’s going on?” I asked a frantic Liam.
“Another carrier killed someone, but he didn’t realize we were traveling in groups, so this time we were able to capture him. What do you want us to do with him?”
“Hold him. I’m on my way.”
I figured Laynie would just sleep the rest of the night on the couch. She had been so exhausted since coming here she slept every moment that she felt relatively safe. There was a part of my heart that swelled that she felt safe with me. This also meant I had to keep protecting her, and I still hadn’t figured out what I was going to do about the upcoming expiration date of her visit with me.
* * *
When I walked into the warehouse, I saw Liam and his men surrounding a man tied to a chair. He had a busted eye, and blood was leaking from his bottom lip. He was breathing like a fish out of water.
“Hey motherfucker.” I gave him a wicked grin.
I saw the moment his eyes recognized me. He bounced up and down in his chair, begging and pleading.
“He won’t tell us shit, boss,” Liam said from behind me.
I sat in a chair directly across from him and pulled out my knife, inspecting it while I spoke. “Who sent you to kill my people?”
“I don’t know her name, I swear. She contacted me through a burner and wired the money to me.”
“She?” I asked.
“Yes, she. But I don’t know her name. I swear!”
I took his thumb and snapped it backwards, leaving it dangling from his hand.
“Oh God, please stop. I don’t know who she was. She just told me to intercept the packages and kill the deliverer.”
“And take the packages where?”
“A hotel on Broadway. She was going to call me and tell me the room number when I was finished.”
“Okay, so call her now.”
Liam dialed the last number on his phone and placed the call on speaker.
“You better put on your best acting skills,” I smirked at him. I knew he wouldn’t convince the caller that he had completed the job. I could see the fear radiating off of him.
The caller picked up, but there was silence on the other end.
“H-hey, I secured the p-package,” he stammered into the phone.
The person on the other end disconnected the call.
“Man, that was the worst fucking acting I’ve ever seen. What do you think, Liam?”
Liam laughed. “Yeah no Emmy’s for him.”
I took my knife out and slit his throat. Swiftly, the life left his eyes as the blood poured from his throat. I rinsed my knife in the sink before returning it to my pocket. “Clean this shit up.”
They nodded and got to work as I left the warehouse.
So someone was targeting my operations as I had suspected. I also didn’t believe that a woman was responsible. At least now I had direct confirmation that someone was targeting my operations. She was going to be caught, eventually. It was just a matter of time. I need to reach out to some of the hit men I knew and ask if anyone has contacted them. Most of them wouldn’t take a job if they knew it was linked to me, but occasionally you come across a brave mother fucker who would.
* * *
When I got back to the house, the couch was empty and the blanket I had covered her with was on the floor. “Laynie?”
No response.
I walked to the bedroom and found the bed empty, but my bathroom light was on, and the door cracked. I pushed the door open slowly, hoping to not scare her. “Laynie?”
I saw drops of blood first and my heart started racing. When I walked in fully, I saw Laynie curled up on the floor with blood smeared on her inner thighs. She was still wearing the white t-shirt and my boxers, which now were bloody.
“Laynie, what the fuck?” That’s when I saw the kitchen knife. She had carved her inner thighs like she was a fucking rotisserie chicken. I grabbed a rag from the linen closet and pressed it against the bleeding wounds. “Why did you do this?” I said. My voice could not contain my anger.
She stared up at me with wide doe eyes. It took her some time to respond to me. She looked down at the mess on the floor and the bloody rag between her legs. “I want to die,” she finally said. “Please kill me. I can’t do this anymore,” she said, sounding out of breath.
I grabbed her by her cheeks and squeezed. “You’ve been tough the last 4 years, surviving all the shit those men did to you. You will not give up now. Do you hear me? You don’t deserve what’s happened to you.”
“I deserve it,” she whispered.
I sat on the tile floor next to her. One of my hands was still putting pressure on her thighs, trying to stop the bleeding.
“What makes you think you deserve this, Laynie?”
“I’m responsible for us being taken.”
I waited for her to continue.
She was staring straight ahead as she spoke. “That night, my best friend Charlie had a date. Someone knocked on the door and I answered it without looking through the peephole. It was a man that must have been stalking me at my job. He forced himself into the apartment and he raped me and took my virginity in 5 minutes. When he left, I just curled up in my bed. I didn’t warn Charlie, and I didn’t call the police. Charlie came home, and I heard his voice again. I hid, like a coward, under my bed. Her screams filled the apartment, and I did nothing but hide. I am a coward. I deserve this life.”
“Laynie, look at me.”
She lifted her head back up, and I saw the tears building.
“You are not a coward. You were a young girl who was afraid and had just been brutally raped. Your mind was still processing what was happening. Self preservation is an instinct. What were you going to do for Charlie? How could you have saved her? You didn’t even know he was going to return. For 4 years, you managed to survive living in hell and fought every day for the will to survive. You are the bravest woman I know.”
“I’m not,” she said.
I took her face in my hands and kissed her lips softly. She tasted like blood and tears. I devoured her taste. I gently sucked on her bottom lip as a sob escaped her mouth again.
“Shh baby. Give me your pain.”
I slipped my tongue between her lips and could feel the rips in her own tongue. I gently brushed my tongue over them, wanting to heal her. Wanting to stop her pain. I pulled her onto my lap, keeping my hand pressed against her thigh.
“I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.” Had anyone ever held her like this? Caressed her with care and affection? Hearing that she was a virgin when she was raped hurt my soul. And every time afterwards was just a continuous violation against her innocence. Taking something that she had held onto for longer than most.
I inspected the wounds she gave herself. They were deep, but not enough to require stitches. I leaned behind her and wet the rag using the bathtub faucet. I slowly wiped away the blood that had dripped down her leg and dabbed carefully at the wounds.
I could feel her relaxing against me. Trusting me. She traced my tattoos on my arm with her finger. Lightly brushing against my skin. I could feel my dick growing stiff at her touch, but I fought the urge to control myself. She didn’t need yet another man taking something from her.
“What does this one mean?” She was pointing to the compass on my forearm.
“That no matter where we go in life, we are responsible for the directions we take.”
“Deep.”
“Are you making fun of me?” I questioned.
“Maybe,” she giggled.
“I love hearing you laugh.” I put my face next to hers and kissed her cheek.
“I can’t remember the last time I laughed,” she whispered.
I rubbed her arm with my thumb. “Do you feel safe here?”
“Not when you leave,” she confided.
“Is that why you did this?” I lifted the cloth, revealing the cuts.
“I don’t know. I was panicking and needed to be in control. This gives me control.”
“I won’t leave without telling you again. But there are times I have to leave, and I don’t need you fucking slicing yourself up every time I do.”
She nodded in response.
I looked at my watch. 5 AM. We were sitting on the bathroom floor covered in her blood at 5 in the fucking morning. I needed to sleep at least for a couple of hours. I lifted her up off the floor. Take another bath and I’ll bring you some clothes.