Chapter 30 #2
Lincoln keeps stealing glances at me, eyes flicking from the road to my face and back again.
“I know you m-… I can’t imagine how you must be feeling. Something bad must have really happened for you to attack Sarah.”
“What makes you think I attacked her,” I snap, still looking out the passenger side window, refusing to look at him.
“I mean for her face to look…”
“I hope it’s all beaten up. I hope she looks like a monster for the rest of her life. Not sorry that I did it.”
“I know you’re not,” Lincoln says easily, never raising his voice past the decibel he must know makes me feel comfortable.
“But I need to know where I’m dropping you,” he says.
“Like I told you. At the next shuttle station.”
“I’m not going to just drop you off at a shuttle station.”
“Why? It’s daytime now.”
“Yeah, it’s about 6:30 in the morning,” he answers.
I shrug. “So just drop me off at the nearest shuttle station.”
“Do you live near here?”
“None of your business Lincoln.”
“Gabby…”
“Why does everything need to be an argument with you?” I snap, turning to face him.
“I asked you to just drop me off at the shuttle station. What if I don’t want you to know where I live?
What if I have an agreement with my partner not to tell anyone that?
You think I want random people showing up at my house? ”
“I wouldn’t send random people to your house, Gabby.”
“Yeah well I don’t know that. As far as I’m concerned you hate me.”
“What?” he softly asks in outrage. “Gabby… I don’t hate you at all. I would never do anything to—” he trails off, catching himself.
Still looking through the windshield, I just pull in my lips with a sarcastic grin. Then I blink my eyes at him.
“You just what?” I challenge, knowing full well that if he says some shit about not wanting to ever do anything to hurt me, I’m going to light him up in this car. I don’t even know why I’m so angry. All of this was supposed to be behind me.
Lincoln is quiet and looks back at the windshield. It’s crazy how much more mature he looks. How much older. How much… sexier.
It’s honestly annoying, like he saved the best parts of himself for Sarah or whoever else.
The shuttle station pulls up and I try to open the door, but it’s locked. I try finding the unlock latch but can’t. Stupid car is so futuristic. There’s an unlocking sound and I look over at Lincoln, who smiles softly at me. I don’t smile back.
Rolling my eyes, I get out.
I sit at the station, feeling the cool air on my face. I only have an overshirt, and I’m holding it around my arms. God, I’m so sleepy.
My home is about 20 minutes away driving distance.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Lincoln asks.
“I’m fine. Go be with Sarah,” I say as I bury my face in my phone screen, trying my best not to look at him.
His car pulls off slowly, almost reluctantly. There’s a pit forming in my stomach, growing into a larger chasm the farther his car pulls away and turns around the corner. Those old tears start making an appearance, but I don’t let them fall.
After about ten minutes, I feel a warm body beside me.
It’s a total stranger, but I welcome the warmth. I don’t make eye contact because that would be weird.
“Where’s your jacket?” the deep voice asks.
My eyes blink open wider as I look to my left to see Lincoln sitting right there next to me on the bench as close as possible. Instinctively, I shuffle over to the right, leaving about half a foot between us.
Lincoln peels off his dress coat and starts to put it around me. I shrug it off.
“Lincoln, I said I don’t need your help. I mean I appreciate you posting my bail.”
“Yeah you’re a full-on criminal now,” he smiles.
Usually I would give him a smile, but call me crazy, I’m not in the mood. My eyes cut away from him and I concentrate on my phone.
“You get cold very easily. Take the jacket.”
“That’s not your concern,” I say without looking at him.
“Take the jacket and I’ll stop bothering you.”
“Yeah because all that matters is that you get what you want right?” I argue.
“God damn it Gabrielle. I just want you to not get cold.”
“It’s not about what you want, Lincoln. I don’t want anything from you. I really don’t.”
“Okay… but don’t be afraid to—”
I stand up, cutting him off. “I really just want you to leave me alone. Honestly.”
“I’m not leaving you alone at a fucking shuttle station right after you got out of jail.”
I roll my eyes and start walking away from the shuttle station.
“Gabrielle,” he calls out, rising to follow me. “I’m trying to help.”
“I don’t need your fucking help!” I spin around to face him.
“I know you think you don’t, but you spent most of your birthday at work, busting your ass.
Then you got in a fight and then you spent the rest of it in jail.
After everything I put you through… please…
the least I can do is take some of the stress off of you by taking you home.
If you don’t want me to know where you live I can order you a private ride. ”
“You don’t think I could have done that myself?”
“Yeah, but you didn’t,” he says matter-of-factly.
The truth is… I do want his help. But when I was dependent on him, when I trusted him, he made me feel like shit.
My mom never needed anyone’s help.
Then again… my mom died because she refused that help. Because she wouldn’t let the people around her take care of her. She was strong… but she drowned under that showmanship of strength.
Maybe Lincoln is right.
The thing is, I don’t want to accept that or admit it.
Lincoln releases a breath, the wind blowing his beautiful dark brown hair in his face, momentarily making him look especially handsome.
I hate myself for how I’m even simping for him in my mind. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with acknowledging someone is very attractive. Being close to him like this… especially without Sarah… brings back memories my body thirsts to relive but my mind wants to forget.
Lincoln licks his lips. “Listen… if you take help from me… it doesn’t… it doesn’t come with anything.”
“Really?” I ask, setting up the trap.
“Really.”
“Like I’m sure it came with nothing when you helped Sarah right?”
Lincoln sucks in a deep and uncomfortable breath and looks somewhere in the distance, defeated, knowing full well that any move he makes at this point, I have the checkmate.
“I… … alright Gabrielle.”
After some hesitation, Lincoln dips his head and walks away toward the corner of the street, probably because he parked his car on the other block.
Come back.
I want you to fight for me.
No I don’t.
Making my way back to the shuttle station, I sit on the bench, keeping my emotions in check.
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