Chapter Eight #2
He fingers a strand of my hair, then tucks it behind my ears. “A certain little girl wakes up early, and we both need sleep. I won’t risk your safety just to have you in my bed.”
“Are we in danger though? That guy at the grocery store was probably just looking for a hookup or something. I’m sure it had nothing to do with—” Linc’s already shaking his head. “What?”
He frowns, seems to consider his words, then says, “His tattoos say otherwise.”
I remember he had a scar and tattoos on his neck under his shirt. How did Linc identify them? “You could barely see them.”
“Those were… gang tattoos, of a sort.”
“What aren’t you telling me?” I ask, sitting up and reaching for my clothes.
He groans and rubs his hands over his face. “I didn’t want to have this conversation now. Not when you’re so—” he waves at my body, “distracting.”
I pull my tank top over my head and shimmy into my sleep shorts. “Better?”
“No. Now I want to rip them back off.” He shoves to his feet and paces back to the window. “We stumbled onto a group of bad men recently. They’ve been smuggling in and out of the city using the Gulf and the Mississippi River. It’s the perfect place to move anything illegal. Even people.”
“Like coyotes?” I’ve heard of people taking money to bring immigrants into the U.S. Is this a whole operation?
“Worse.” He doesn’t elaborate. “It’s possible they’ve discovered Citadel was trying to shut them down. If so, the people closest to us could be in danger.”
I cross my arms over my chest to hold back the tremor of fear. “Have they?”
Linc crosses back to me and pulls me against his chest, wrapping his arms around me.
“I can’t be sure, but I’ll never let anyone hurt you, Gracie, or my mother.
Understand? From now on, you don’t go anywhere without someone from Citadel with you.
In a few hours, a man named Mason is coming by. He’ll be with you when I can’t.”
He expects me to sleep after this? What am I doing? I don’t know how to protect a little girl or myself from international bad guys.
“Hey.” Linc grips my arms. “Darcy, nothing is going to happen to you or Gracie. I’d—” He closes his eyes briefly. When he opens them again, they’re full of pure fire. “I’d kill anyone who fucking tries. I’d burn down this goddamn world to keep you and my little girl safe.”
I feel safe. The realization is only a little surprising. I have since we met. Knowing that I might be in danger doesn’t seem to change that. It’s a revelation. I don’t just feel safe with Lincoln Wolf. I’m in love with him.
He places a soft kiss on my lips. “Come to bed with me? Let me hold you while we sleep.”
As if I’d turn down a night being held by him.
When I woke several hours later, the sun seemed to shine a little brighter. The birds sang, and the world seemed more at peace. Snuggled in Linc’s arms, receiving his sleepy nuzzles was as close to heaven as I’ve ever been.
Until I met the Inquisition.
Having to explain to Gracie why I wasn’t asleep in my bed but her daddy’s was not something I was prepared for at dawn.
Not even Arcane Brew has enough coffee for that kind of questioning.
Linc barely hid his laugh but finally stepped in to explain that I’d been trying to help him sleep. Somehow, that logic satisfied her.
The moment she skipped back upstairs to her room to pick out clothes for the day, he kissed me senseless. Now that Gracie had found me in his room, he reasoned, I could be in his bed every night.
The thought of spending more time in bed with Linc is intoxicating. I’ve struggled to keep my mind on my tasks for the day. Meeting the massive, but quiet, Mason has helped.
He arrived at the house right after breakfast to escort Gracie and I to her preschool.
He’s as big as a bear, with shoulders that barely fit through a door, and stands at least four inches taller than Linc.
He had a kind smile for Gracie, kneeling down to her level to offer his large hand in greeting.
Seeing her place her tiny one in his and shake it vigorously was about the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.
Either that or his red cheeks when she asked if he was a real giant.
She seemed disappointed that he wasn’t. I think she wanted to take him to show-and-tell.
Mason went with me to drop Gracie off at preschool and stayed as protection while Linc went to work. Diane and he have spent most of the day talking about old television shows while I cleaned up and did some laundry.
Now we’re back at the preschool picking her up. I step out of the car, tuck my phone in my pocket and head for the entrance. There’s a line of buses parked on the left side of the building, and on the right, the pickup zone for parents.
“Darcy, wait,” Mason barks.
I stop, because it’s the first words he’s spoken in an hour, and it startled me. “Huh?”
He jogs up to my side, scanning the parking lot. “I go with you, remember?”
“Right. I’m not used to that.”
He doesn’t respond, just keeps watch. For a second, I think he stiffens, but he doesn’t say anything else.
The teacher walks Gracie’s class out and releases the kids. Gracie runs to me and holds up a paper with a Gracie original. “Miss Darcy! Mr. Mason! Look what I drew. It’s?—”
Mason swears as something blurs in my peripheral vision. I grab Gracie’s hand and turn. Something slams into my cheek, and everything goes black.