The Unlucky Ones, page 23
I marched to Lincoln’s office.
“What the hell, Lincoln? Is there a reason you’re ignoring my texts?” I swung the door so hard it bounced back off the wall. Three heads jerked to me.
Ah. Crap.
Two men I recognized as liquor distributors sat in chairs in front of Lincoln, anger oozing off them, their eyes narrowed on at me.
“May I help you, Devon?” Lincoln raised his eyebrows, a smirk on his mouth.
“Oh. Wow. I am so sorry.” Chagrin flamed my cheeks. “Forget you saw me…or heard me.” I took a step back, gripping the doorknob.
Lincoln shoved back his chair, standing up.
“It’s okay. I think we’re done here.” Humor vanished from his face, a darkness creeping in as he looked at the two men. “I think our business is finished.”
The men stood, glaring at Lincoln, their demeanor threatening.
“Last chance, Lincoln. You might come to regret this.”
“Maybe, but I doubt it.” He walked to the door, moving me out of the way and motioning for the men to exit.
They stalked out of the room, still scowling at the bar owner. Something about them ran a chill down my spine. Lincoln watched the men carefully until he saw them exit through the door, letting out a breath.
“What was that about?” My gaze darted to the closed door back to Lincoln.
“Shady assholes my brother started business with when he was running things. He owed them money.” Lincoln dragged his hands over his face as if he had gotten no sleep either. “I decided it was time to end the connection. Have a fresh start for the bar. They were used to getting a take off the top of the liquor profits. They did not like that I took it away from them or my threat to make them regret it if they touch my brother.”
“Will they come after you?”
“I’ve met some truly scary and dangerous men in my time. Those two aren’t even close. They’re shadows of formidable men, enough to keep my brother in their hip pocket.” Lincoln leaned back on his heels, his gaze roaming over me with hunger. “But not me, Freckles. My connections are scarier than theirs.”
Damn… Was it sick I found this so sexy?
“Now, what did you come storming into my office about?” He shut the door, taking a large step to me. “All fluffed up and hot as fuck.” His body hit mine, his hands curling around my face.
I stared up at his eyes, lost in their heat. Shit, what was I here for?
“You need something?” He leaned into me, his voice husky, his mouth brushing mine.
Yeah, I needed something. Him. On the desk in about ten seconds. But my stupid conscience nagged and nipped at me, forcing me to push him back.
“This is serious.” I took another step away, the heat of his body close and far too tempting. “Why haven’t you called me back?”
“I turned off my phone when those two showed up.” He tugged out his phone. “What did you need?”
“My uncle knows.” I got to the point. “If he doesn’t know who you are yet, he’s going to figure it out soon.”
Lincoln watched me for a few moments, my anxiety tripling at his strange calmness.
“I know.”
“Wait. What?” I sputtered. “You know?”
“I’ve been running from police and keeping under the radar most of my life. You become extremely aware of your surroundings. You notice when a cop comes into the bar and asks about you. Or stares at you like he’s seen a ghost. I didn’t miss him at the memorial. Or in the rented car parked out front right now.” Duh. Of course he would know Gavin came in. Nat would’ve told him.
“Seriously? He’s out there right now?” I exclaimed, panic waving my arms around, my voice rising a few octaves. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you running? You better go!”
“Devon.” Lincoln recaptured the space I put between us, his hands clutching my flaying arms, rubbing them softly. “Calm down.”
“How can I calm down when my uncle, a sheriff who’s been hunting you since you escaped from jail, is on a stakeout in front of the bar?” I wiggled from his soothing hands. “Why aren’t you freaking out? How can be so relaxed about this?”
He pressed against me. “If I freak out or do anything out of the ordinary, like run, I’m the man he thinks I am. I will give him exactly what he wants.”
Right. Only someone guilty would flee.
“He thinks he knows. He has no proof. I have to keep going about my day.” He tipped my chin up, his breath curling down my breasts. “Find something to do to keep me busy.” He drew my mouth to his.
“He will find proof eventually,” I whispered against his lips before his parted mine, kissing me deeply. His fingers pressed into the back of my head, walking me backward to the desk until my ass hit the edge. “Especially if you comply with your brother and rob a jewelry store.”
He jerked back, hand still in my hair, but his lids narrowed on me.
“How do you know about that?”
“I followed you last night.” I didn’t shy away from the revelation.
“You did what?” His arms dropped, his forehead creasing with incense. “You spied on me?”
“Yes. I won’t apologize for it. I went after you to warn you about my uncle. I overheard everything.” I shook my head. “Aware of your surroundings, huh? You’re lucky it was me who followed you. It could have been a cop overhearing you both.”
“Lucky? Is that what you call it?” He scoured his head. “Jesus…what is it about you? From day one you slipped under my skin and totally fucked up my head. All sense goes out the window.”
“I could say the same about you.”
“That’s the problem.” He started to pace. “We make each other stupid. Reckless. Forgoing any logic. We are living in this fantasy where things will work out for us. That we are not unlucky. That we will work.”
I wrenched back, the sting and truth of his words burrowing in.
Putting his hands on his hips, he exhaled, his shoulders sagging. “But you know what is even more absurd?” He caught my eyes, his voice softening. “I don’t care.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I know I should have left by now, should already be in Cabo, drinking a beer with a new name and appearance.” He glowered as if it were my fault. “I sat up all night, keys in my hand, ready to drive away…but I couldn’t make myself go.”
My mouth wouldn’t move, didn’t dare ask.
“Want to know why?” His hands glided up to the back of my head. “The same reason I didn’t leave that bathroom when I should have. A girl with the cutest freckles, gorgeous blue eyes, and sexiest mouth I’ve ever seen has utterly bewitched me.” He kissed my lips. “You have completely fucked me, Freckles.”
I felt the same. And I didn’t care. My mouth moved over his, our passion devouring us, my hands fumbling for his jeans.
“Stop.” He groaned as if he couldn’t believe he uttered the command, pulling back. “You make this so hard.”
“What’s so hard?” I pulled on his shirt with a smirk, bringing him back into me, tugging the zipper of his pants. “I can help with that.” My lips claimed his with urgency. He gave in, his tongue curling around mine, exploring, until I heard him grunt, shoving back.
“I’m still leaving.”
“What?” His statement kicked my head back. “You just said…”
“I was being selfish. My feelings for you clouded my judgment. Seeing you, knowing your uncle is right outside, I realized I have put you in an impossible situation. You’re a good person, Devon. You live life on the right side of the law. I never have. I am a criminal. Escaped convict. I will not force you to decide between your belief system, your own family, and me.”
“But what if I want—” He put a finger to my mouth, stopping the rest of my declaration.
“You’re also logical. You know this can never work. I will always be on the run, one step ahead of the police. You don’t belong in my world.”
“You mean the world of a man who owns a bar, who’s done nothing but the right thing for others, now lives completely above the law?”
“He’s pretend.”
“No.” I rammed my palm onto his firm chest. “He’s not. I work with him every day. There is nothing pretend about that guy. He’s kind, smart, will do anything for those he cares about.” I grasped his waist. “I don’t think the other guy is real. He was a kid who had to learn to survive, grew up with unfortunate circumstances, and got caught.”
“Devon.” He shut his lids briefly. “It doesn’t matter. Why I did it is not relevant. I’m guilty; it’s all they care about.”
The law cares nothing for personal feelings or motive. My uncle’s statement came back into my head.
“I don’t want you to go.”
A pained smile twisted his face. “After our last job tonight, I’m leaving with my brother. I put the deed in Nat’s name this morning. It’s why I got rid of those assholes. I wanted her to be totally clean and legit.”
“You’re still going to rob the store?” My gut dropped to the floor. “But-but I thought those guys were why he needed money. Why do you need to do this?”
“Because we will need something to live on in Mexico.”
“No.” I shook my head. “Lincoln, please, don’t do it.”
“I warned you I wasn’t the good guy.”
“Everything you’ve done so far has been for own survival or your daughter’s.” I fisted my hands. “This is completely different, and you know it. Not only is my uncle up your ass, but if you do this, you prove you are nothing but a common criminal.”
“Too late, Freckles.” He pulled his cool façade back into place. “Once a felon, always a felon.” Roughly, he kissed my forehead. Grabbing his backpack, he sauntered to the door, and opened it. “I know it’s a lot for me to ask, but I hope you won’t tell your uncle until I’ve left town.” He clasped the doorframe, pain straining the corners of his eyes. “I will never forget you, Freckles. You are embedded far too deep under my skin. No one will come close.”
Stupefied by his claim, my body and voice locked up, watching him walk out of the exit door and out of my life.
“No.” Panic melted my muscles, and I darted to the back door, stumbling out into the bright day. His Bronco was already backing out. “Lincoln! Please…don’t…” Don’t do this. Don’t go. Don’t leave me. I’m in love with you. The cries burst inside my chest, not making it to my mouth, devastation engulfing me as I watched his Bronco drive away.
The first time he walked out of my life, I could do nothing to prevent his fate. This time?
You think I give up so easily? Screw you, Lincoln, I will save you…even if it’s from yourself.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Nibbling on my nails, I transferred the ache in one side of my ass to the other cheek. The sun had long since disappeared behind the distant mountains, streaking shades of purples, oranges, and blues across the skyline. Now the bright stars above twinkled happily, opposing the grave feeling in my gut. I had been sitting here for hours and losing my mind with boredom and worry. Nat’s radio was broken and the only CD she had was a Sesame Street sing-a-long. Nothing said dangerous-and-thrilling stakeout as “Rubber Ducky” and a car seat in the back.
When I had run into the bar after seeing Lincoln take off, Nat didn’t even ask. She just set her car keys on the bar and said, “I’ll take the bus home. Go get our guy, Devon.” She slid the set to me. “Whatever he’s about to do…stop him.”
“I plan on it.” I clutched the keys to my chest. “Thank you.”
I ran for the car, realizing as I pulled out I had no idea where he’d go or what I’d do if I found him. I needed to stop him. Whatever it took.
I drove around searching for his car or any sign of him. He was like a ghost, fading to whispers in the wind, tendrils of smoke I saw from the corner of my eye but were gone the moment I looked over.
The one place I knew for certain where he’d end up was the store they would try to rob tonight. I headed there. Double-checking the street, I didn’t see my uncle’s car or a rental car, which suggested he had trailed after Lincoln instead of me. What was Lincoln thinking? Surely he knew my uncle would follow him. Nothing about this sat right with me. My gut screamed disaster was about to befall. I could lose him again.
“Rubber ducky, you’re the one…” I unconsciously hummed along before crying out in frustration, stabbing the off button. Stakeouts weren’t as exciting as movies led you to believe. My dad had dreaded them, saying, “You get ten seconds of thrill for eight hours of mind-numbing boredom.”
An hour ago, I had eaten the bag of cheerios Nat hid in the glove compartment. I was out of fun. Sighing, I glanced around. The store had been closed for a while, but they probably wanted to make sure the town was asleep as well. Along with my ass.
Curbing the boredom, I kept trying to come up with a plan. Something I was usually good at. Tonight seemed to be an exception. Lincoln was stubborn and had such a strong responsibility to his brother. All I knew is I couldn’t sit at home and allow this to happen…to let him go.
I was stubborn too.
Glancing at the clock, I saw the night had ticked into the witching hour. Nothing good happened at this time. The streets throbbed with an eerie silence, pregnant with sinful deeds.
I started to tap my head against the wheel, tension and tedium straining every nerve, when headlights flashed across the windshield. My head bolted up, my heart sticking in my throat. I ducked down in the seat. I recognized the car from the other night.
James.
The exceptional plan I was supposed to come up with while I waited still alluded me, nerves raking over my gut. It was beginning and I still didn’t know how to convince Lincoln not do this.
James tucked the car into an abandoned lot across from me, well guarded from view of the main street, the dark car almost vanishing into the shadows. It was a perfect spot, as it was close to jump into and escape, but it would not be noticed with the tall fence and bushes hiding it from witnesses. Because I had followed Lincoln here, I knew where to look.
I watched James get out of the car and pop the trunk. A putrid yellow-green streetlight glowed behind him, framing him in a dark outline. The car was a black Dodge Challenger, a muscle car with a supercharged engine. Perfect for a getaway…to run for the border. He grabbed items from the trunk, shoving one into the back of his jeans, and the other one in the front.
Guns.
He slammed the trunk, leaned against it, and lit up what looked similar to a cigarette, but knowing James the little I did, it was probably a joint. “Shit, James,” I grumbled. “Getting high before a robbery. Brilliant.”
Another forty minutes passed as I watched James pace and smoke until a motorcycle turned into the lot. I instantly recognized the man on it. Lincoln. Somewhere during the night, he switched his car for something he could hide or run from police a lot easier.
Slipping out my door, I slunk over to the same fence I’d hidden behind last time.
“What the fuck took you so long?” James hissed, walking over to his brother. “I’ve been waiting here like a sitting duck.”
“Listen, I told you I had a tail. I had to get rid of him. Change vehicles.” Lincoln kicked out the stand, flinging his leg over to stand up. “It took longer than I thought to lose him. So fucking relax.”
“Relax?” James snorted. “I’ve been trying to for the last forty minutes.”
“Jesus, are you smoking pot before we do a job? Are you an idiot?”
Yes, yes, he is. Another reason you should turn around now.
“The fact you haven’t been in jail and I have baffles the hell out of me,” Lincoln snarled, tossing his backpack into the back of the Challenger.
“Because I don’t get caught.” James rounded on his brother. “Don’t get me wrong, you know how much I love some pussy, but I’m smart enough not to let it distract me from a drop and I run.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Lincoln loomed over his brother.
“Jesus, brother. You’re still so defensive about that girl. Was her pussy that tight and magical?”
In a blink, Lincoln grabbed James by the throat, slamming him against the car. “I told you never to speak of her like that again. Ever.”
“Shit.” James tried to shove him off but couldn’t even lift Lincoln’s pinkie. “Okay, sorry.”
Lincoln shoved him again but let go and stepped back.
“I don’t get you.” James tugged at his collar. “You had sex with her once, six years ago or something. Why was she so special? I’d have thought the new little piece at work would’ve eliminated the fantasy girl from your head.”
I exhaled with relief. I preferred James not knowing I was the same girl.
“Let’s get this over with and get out of this town,” Lincoln grumbled, stalking to the passenger door. “You brought everything?”
“Yep. Gloves, black sweater, mask, bolt cutters, smokers, blackout paint for cameras, alarm scrambler, and bags,” James said as Lincoln gathered the items from the front seat, pulling on the black jersey.
“Okay, let’s do this.” James tugged a ski mask onto his head and grabbed the bolt cutters from Lincoln. “Soon we’ll be lying on a beach, drinking endless beers delivered to us by gorgeous señoritas in bikinis.”
Lincoln huffed, pulling on gloves, both of them creeping toward the edge of the lot.
Come on, Dev. Now or never.
“No!” I didn’t even think, leaping out in front of the pair. “Lincoln. Stop.”
“Shit!” James pulled the pistol stashed in the back of his jeans and held it on me. Lincoln moved in front of me, his eyes wide.
“Holy fuck, Devon,” he growled, his arms outstretched, blocking me from James. “What the hell were you thinking jumping out?” He didn’t stop to hear my answer. “What are you even doing here? You need to go now.”
