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Authors: Sloan Parker

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Suspense, #Gay, #Contemporary

Breathe (18 page)

BOOK: Breathe
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home. He"s gotten soooo big. You gotta see him. He"s taller than me!”

Lincoln laughed. “I knew with the size of those paws he"d be huge.”

“The paws are the same. The rest of him just grew and grew and grew.” She

held her hands out and moved them apart as far as she could to demonstrate.

Davy gave up on the movie he"d been watching from the living room floor and

rolled to his side. “He is big. Almost knocked me over when he ran into me.”

Sparky jumped onto the couch on the other side of Jessica, a safe distance from

Lincoln. Jessica wrapped her arms around the dog"s neck and kissed his snout.

“Ewww,” Davy said. “Don"t kiss the dog. That"s gross.”

“Not gross.” Jessica stuck her tongue out at Davy. “He"s family. He"s not a

dog.”

Davy went back to watching the movie and said, “He"s a dog.”

Jessica giggled and kissed Sparky again.

Lincoln reached across her and patted Sparky"s head. He definitely missed

Duke. He missed a lot of stuff. And the only time he"d forgotten any of it was during

the night he"d spent showing Jay Miller the joys of gay sex. Lincoln hadn"t slept that

well without being drunk off his ass since he"d gotten home.

Jessica leaned into his side and whispered, “Your wolf"s not running no more.”

“Oh.” Davy jumped to his feet. “Forgot to tell you. A man dropped off a check

for you. It"s huge. Mom told me to make sure you got it.” Davy ran to the kitchen

and returned with a check in hand. He gave it to Lincoln.

“Is that a lot of money?” Jessica asked, leaning into Lincoln"s side as they both

stared at the piece of paper.

“Of course.” Davy pointed to the typed numbers. “See all those zeros. Was your

car really worth all that?”

“Yeah.”

Jessica jumped to her feet on the couch. She hopped and did a dance. “Uncle

Lincoln"s rich!”

Lincoln read the sticky note stuck to the back of the check. From his attorney.

I know it’s not what you were hoping, but it’s the only offer in the past year.

He ripped off the note and crushed it into a ball.

“What are you gonna do with it?” Davy asked.

“It"s for your mom.” Lincoln got up and went to the kitchen. He signed the back

of the check and wrote a note for Nancy.

Put it toward the bills.

90

Sloan Parker

He stuck the note to the check and hesitated. Someone was going to be driving

his car. He could live with that. Right?

It wouldn"t kill him.

But it did sting. He smacked the check onto the table, grabbed his jacket, and

headed for the door. “Kids, I"m going out for a while. Adam"s in his room.”

“Okay,” Jessica said. She stroked Sparky"s ear while she watched the movie.

Lincoln stepped out the front door, then leaned back inside. “Jessica?”

“Yeah.”

“Remember, no Kitty or Sparky in your bedroom.”

She smiled as she kept rubbing the dog"s floppy ear. “I know.”

He wanted to lecture her about pet hair and allergies, how letting them in her

room made it a little harder for her to breathe when she slept, and that she had to

stop sneaking the animals in there at night or else Nancy might finally give in to

her motherly fears and get rid of the pets, but Jessica"s sweet smile had him holding

back.

It also had him almost forgetting his pity party. He glanced at the check on the

table. Almost.

* * *

The dead don’t cry at night. But I do. And someday, you will too.

Ever wonder if she cried out in pain? If she felt the snap of bone? The crush of

her chest? I do. Every night. Now I hope you will too.

Jay read the words again. He"d handwritten the line from the note in Lincoln"s

bedside table onto the paper with the first one Paul had given him. Was it the

Shaws who had sent them to Lincoln? Did they hire the PI? Did they send his mom

the photos?

Who would go so far as to contact Lincoln and hire an investigator to follow

him? It had to be someone in Jay"s family. Or Katie"s. Nothing else made sense. Lots

of people loved her, but losing her hadn"t hurt anyone as much as them. No one else

would want to make Lincoln pay. Well, Jay had. But that was before they"d met.

Before he"d spent the night pressed against the man"s naked body. Before Jay had

given in to desire and let his dick run his life.

Everything was spinning out of control. And he hadn"t yet come up with what

to say when he approached the Shaws. How do you ask two parents who"d lost their

only child what their grief had forced them to do?

He stuffed the letter into the glove compartment and went into Sonny"s. He

found Lincoln at a table in the back by the restrooms. The old whiskey sipper was

still sitting nearby, sipping away. Did the man ever go home? Or did they just leave

him sitting there at closing time with a full bottle to get him through the night,

then dust him and the bottle off the next morning?

Jay sat across from Lincoln. “Hey.”

Breathe

91

Lincoln stared at the beer in front of him. He held on with one hand, twisting

the bottle in circles, only stopping the action when he took a long pull. Finally he

said, “If you came for more talking—or more sex—you can forget it. Not in much of

a talking—or a fucking—mood today.”

Had anyone heard that? Possibly the old man with the whiskey. Hopefully he

was too far gone into the bottle to care about the fags sitting at the next table.

Jay leaned forward. The scent of beer clung to Lincoln. Had he bathed in the

stuff? What happened since he"d sneaked out of Jay"s old bedroom window? Since

that kiss? Was it the threats eating away at Lincoln? Or the accident? Or something

else?

Another cigarette lit and Lincoln took a drag. The puff of smoke as he exhaled

hit Jay in the face.

“Why don"t we go take a look at your bike?”

“Not mine.” Lincoln swallowed more of the beer.

“Did you ask Nancy about it?”

“She said I could have it back. Said it wasn"t right for her to sell it.”

“Let"s go check it out, then.”

“Jay—”

“What?”

“Don"t need the company today. Got some shit on my mind.”

“About the threats?”

No answer.

“Because we didn"t find anything at my parents" house?” Jay didn"t want to

mention what he had found, and he wasn"t sure why.

No response.

“Something else?”

“Yeah, something else.” Lincoln slammed the beer bottle onto the table and

gripped it tighter. “Like how some other goddamn motherfucker is driving my car.

My
car.”

The anger startled Jay. He had seen Lincoln like this when someone had

stolen his niece"s inhalers, right before Jay had sucked the man"s cock. “Your race

car?”

“Just leave, okay? Don"t want to talk about this. Not with you.”

“Fine.” Jay leaned in. “Wanna fuck?”

The other man"s eyes widened, then softened with the grin. The laugh that

came next had Lincoln letting go of the beer and sitting back in his chair. “Yeah,

you"re gay.”

“Just know what I want.”

Lincoln stared at his beer bottle, the smile fading. “We shouldn"t.”

92

Sloan Parker

“It doesn"t have to mean anything. Like you said. No strings.”

Except there were strings. Huge strings. Strings they could wrap into a ball so

big the people from the Guinness World Records would come calling. Who were they

kidding?

Lincoln rolled his eyes and smiled again. “How about we check out the bike

first?”

Jay stood. “I"m good. Before or after. Or we could go for before
and
after.”

“Must be nice to be twenty.” Lincoln got up from the table and headed for the

door.

“Twenty-two,” Jay said and waited until they were outside and no one was

around before he added, “And with gay sex I"m hitting my puberty again. I can

probably get it up a third time if you want.”

That stopped Lincoln in his tracks, just in time to notice the truck driving by.

He didn"t need a second look to spot who was inside.
Mel.

“What?” Jay asked. He stepped closer to Lincoln. “What is it?”

“That was my sister"s jackass husband.”

“Here?”

“In that truck that drove by. I wasn"t sure if he was still in town. Guess so.” He

needed to tell Nancy.
No
. She had enough to worry about, and he didn"t want her to

have any reason to talk to the man again.

“Do you need to call her?”

Lincoln shook his head and continued to stare down the street toward where

Mel had driven off.

“So”—Jay nudged Lincoln with his shoulder—“before
and
after?”

Lincoln laughed. “You"re going to be the death of me.”

Breathe

93

Chapter Fourteen

“Doesn"t sound too great.” Lincoln kicked at the tarp he"d tossed onto the floor.

He shouldn"t be doing this. It wasn"t like he"d be able to drive the damn bike. Wasn"t

like he wanted to either. Right?

“It"s not in bad shape,” Jay said over the roar of the bike. He was sitting on the

Harley inside the garage. They had started it as soon they"d gotten to Nancy"s. The

bike seemed to fascinate Jay. Maybe Lincoln had to try harder to keep the man

interested in sex.

No. He should be trying to figure out how to get Jay uninterested. That"d be

the best thing. For both of them.

“At least it"s running,” Jay added.

It had been a great bike at one time. Different than Lincoln"s car. He liked the

sound, the speed, the power of it between his legs.

“Let"s make a list of what we"ll need.” Jay cut the engine and got off the bike.

“For a basic tune-up. Then we"ll take her out and see what else needs work.” He

wandered around the garage, peeking in boxes and on shelves. “Got anything to

write with?”

Were they really going to do this? Work on a motorcycle together after the way

Jay"s wife had died? Pretend Lincoln had any right to drive for pleasure? He hit the

Close button on the garage door and handed Jay a pencil from the can on the

workbench. Jay watched the door close and seemed to relax as it fell shut. Made

sense. Lincoln wasn"t crazy about anyone seeing them together either.

“Paper?” Jay asked.

Lincoln hunted around and didn"t come up with anything. Jay muttered on

about spark plugs, air filters, lubricant—and not the fun kind. Lincoln smirked and

reached into the pocket of his leather jacket. The good kind of lube was in there and

so was the latest envelope. He tugged out the note and stuffed it into his pocket. He

handed the empty envelope with the typed name and address to Jay.

The other man stared at it. His brow furrowed. “Another one?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I see it?”

“You don"t want to.” It had come in the mail and described how she had looked

when she"d died. From someone who had obviously seen her that night—at the

hospital maybe. Which still pointed to her family. The anger it took to describe the

94

Sloan Parker

woman"s broken, bloody body could"ve only come from someone destroyed by her

death. Her parents. Or her husband.

He didn"t want to consider the idea again it might be Jay. Not because that

would hurt—although it would, like a bitch—but because Jay simply wasn"t capable

of the threats, the horrible descriptions, of hurting a little girl. The man didn"t have

a hateful bone in his body. What had his wife been like? Probably a lot like him.

“I need to talk to the Shaws,” Jay said. “I think it"s them.”

“I"ve been thinking about that. If it"s not your parents, then I think we need to

let the police handle this.”

“Maybe you"re right.” Jay turned over the envelope and scribbled with the

pencil, adding the bike supplies he"d muttered about.

Good idea. Focus on the Harley. Anything but what that note had said. Jay

should never hear those words.

Lincoln crouched and examined the bike more closely. It wasn"t as bad off as

he"d thought when Jay had first uncovered it. His asshole brother-in-law hadn"t

been as rough with the Harley as he"d been with Nancy.

The bike"s exterior was in okay shape. No rust. No damage on the custom paint

job. He ran his fingers over the spread wings of the eagle on the tank. The same

eagle that graced his race car.

No. Not his car any longer. The new driver had probably already painted over

the eagle. Already raced in the car.

Lincoln"s last race had been such a rush. The best news of all had come after

his win. The sponsorship with Performance Motors would mean better venues, a

bigger budget for repairs, a real crew, and larger cash-outs when he won. That was

the news he and Paul were celebrating before the call that sent him out on the road

and into the path of Jay"s wife.

The quiet reached him, and Lincoln stood. Jay stared at the list scrawled

across the back of the envelope, biting the pencil between his teeth.

There were far better things for those teeth to gnaw on. He pulled Jay by the

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