The Handler (Noir et Bleu Motorcycle Club #2) (18 page)

BOOK: The Handler (Noir et Bleu Motorcycle Club #2)
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She stole the magazine back and flipped a few more pages before she said, “I didn’t hire you to handle me. I hired you to be my friend.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t have to pay me to do that.”

She didn’t look up, but she smiled. The waiting room door opened, and the doctor stepped in again. His expression didn’t give any indication whether he had good news or bad news. He sat down next to Lincoln and spoke in a soft tone, “Has his wife arrived?”

Lincoln checked the time on her phone. “She should be here around noon. I have a car waiting to pick her up at the airport.”

“Okay, good. The sooner she gets here, the better.”

The color drained from her face, and she reached over to squeeze my hand. “What does that mean? Do you think he’s not going to survive?”

The doctor’s face creased with sympathy. “We’ve done all we can at this point. The rest is up to his body to heal itself—if it can.”

Lincoln cried after the doctor left. I wrapped my arm around her shoulder. “It’s all my fault,” she mumbled. “He wouldn’t have gotten worked up and had a heart attack if I hadn’t gone to Jill’s room without telling anyone.”

“I’m the one who told him you were missing when you weren’t. I freaked him out for no reason. It’s my fault.”

“What am I going to do, Cain?”

Even though I wasn’t convinced he would be all right, I said, “Everything’s going to be fine.” I ran my hand along her hair.

“My dad’s in jail. My mom’s in a loony bin. If Hal dies, I won’t have anyone.”

“You have me.”

She placed her hand on mine and squeezed it. “Thanks, but it’s not the same. I can’t exactly live with you in a biker rooming house in Orange County, or with your grandparents and Huck in Canada.”

“What about your aunt?”

Her body shuddered in disgust. “Her husband creeps me out.”

“So, buy your own house and live wherever you want.”

She stood and paced. “I don’t feel ready to be completely on my own.”

I watched her stride across the room, turn on her heel, and do it again, repeatedly. “Hal’s not going to die. He’s tough, and he doesn’t back down to anything.”

She spun to face me. “Only you.”

I chuckled. “He wasn’t backing down to me. He was doing what was best for you. He just didn’t always know what was best for you until I came along and made you tell him.”

She slumped back down on the chair next to me and sighed. “I didn’t always know what was best for me until you came along.”

“That’s not true. You’ve always known, you just didn’t say it loud enough.” I kissed her forehead.

Instead of responding, she slid over and rested her head on my thigh. Her breathing eventually slowed and deepened as she fell asleep.

My thoughts bounced around from Hal, to my sister, to Fireball A.K.A. Frenchie Dewalt, and then back to the unbelievably amazing person who was asleep on my lap.

I eventually fell asleep, too, and the next time I opened my eyes, Lincoln was across the room in front of two doctors. My vision was a little blurry, so I blinked a couple times to focus. Lincoln shook her head from side to side, trying to make what they were saying not true. The female doctor gently placed her hand on Lincoln’s arm. Lincoln’s legs collapsed. The male doctor stepped in to hold her up, but her limbs were limp. I sprang to my feet as she slipped through his grasp and puddled onto the floor screaming.

I ran over, dropped to my knees, and pulled her into my chest.

She bawled for a long time before she was able to whisper what I already knew, “He’s dead.”

Chapter Twenty

Lincoln, Hal’s wife, Tim, Aaron, Stan, Mug, Kaz, and I all flew from Oslo to Miami on a private jet with the body in a casket. My plan was to stay sober for Lincoln, but as soon as we took off, I got panicky and had to down a bunch of tequila. By the time we landed, I was shit faced. Everybody, except Mug and Kaz, rode in a limo to Hal’s mansion in South Beach. I could barely walk up the stone path to the front door.

A butler named Ralston carried our bags. Lincoln helped me climb the stairs to one of the guest rooms. I flopped onto the bed, and she took my boots off for me. Her eyes were red around the rims from all the crying she’d been doing. It made her eyes look even bluer. The alcohol took over control of my mouth, and I said, “You are so beautiful.”

She smiled a little, stepped closer, and leaned over to slide my right arm out of my jacket. I helped her by rolling a little so she could pull it off my left arm. “There’s a bathroom behind that door if you feel sick.” She stepped sideways and turned her body as if she planned to leave.

I didn’t want her to go, so I said, “You can stay if you don’t want to be alone.” I moved over on the bed to make room for her.

Without saying anything, she kicked off her shoes, wrapped a blanket around her shoulders, and climbed into the bed next to me. I rolled so I was facing her. She rested her head on the pillow and stared at me for a while before she asked, “Are you drunk enough that you won’t remember anything in the morning?”

“I don’t know, why?” I smiled, because I did know why.

She eased closer and pressed her lips against mine. They were insanely soft. The buzz of the alcohol was still strong, and combined with the high of kissing her, I didn’t want the feeling to end. I slid my fingers along her jaw to her neck to draw her in. She pulled away, and her mouth parted as if she wanted to say something, but she didn’t. A moment later, she rested her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes. She must have known that if anything was going to happen, it would have to happen when I was sober so I couldn’t use booze as a bullshit excuse for why it shouldn’t have happened. I wanted it to happen, and drunk or not, it was getting almost impossible to resist her. I ran my finger along the contour of her face, then I closed my eyes, too.

When I woke up in the morning, I definitely remembered the kiss, but she acted as if she didn’t want to discuss it. She snuck out of the bed quietly. When I met her at the breakfast table later, she avoided talking to me, which wasn’t that difficult since Hal’s wife was chatty and carried the conversation all on her own. Lincoln and I just glanced at each other.

My phone rang and it was Digger, so I excused myself and stood on the back patio to talk to him. “Is it taken care of yet?”

“No,” he mumbled in his gravelly voice. “There’s a complication.”

“What kind of complication?”

“Don’t sweat it right now. Where are you?”

“South Beach. The funeral is today.”

“Let me know when you land in Vancouver. I’ll send someone to take you to your family.” He had moved them again, and only he knew where they were. I had called Huck repeatedly, but she refused to talk. My grandparents didn’t have anything to say to me, either, since their patience with the whole situation had run out. Grandma was particularly upset that they weren’t allowed to visit my mom in the hospital until after the trial, in case Boomslangs were watching. There were always two N et B members stationed in Mom’s room, even after visiting hours, but that hadn’t comforted Grandma at all.

“Tell me who Frenchie Dewalt is,” I demanded because he’d been avoiding it since the night in Oslo.

“Not your problem.”

Normally, Noir et Bleu business was done at break neck speed. The fact that it was stalled was not only frustrating, it was strange. “If you guys aren’t going to do anything, I will.”

“Don’t go near him.” He hung up, and I listened to the dead air for a while before I put the phone back in my pocket.

Hal’s house was right on the water, and there was an infinity pool that dropped over the edge. I sat on a deck chair and watched the yachts float by. I must have sat there for a long time, because when Lincoln walked up to join me, she was already dressed for the funeral and her hair and makeup were done. She looked stunning.

I wanted to know how she felt about the kiss without actually outright asking, so I said, “Hey. You were quiet at breakfast. How are you feeling?”

She shrugged instead of answering and stared out at the water.

“You look tired. Didn’t you sleep much last night?”

She ran her palms along the skirt of her dress to flatten out wrinkles that weren’t there. “Not really.” Her eyes darted to check my expression as if she knew I was hinting at what happened. “How did you sleep?”

“Good, I guess. The alcohol knocked me out.”

She sat down on the chair next to me. “So, you don’t remember anything?”

I smiled at her attempted subtlety. “I remember that I had a really nice dream.”

She bit at her bottom lip and appeared torn about whether to pursue the topic or not. Eventually, she caved in and asked, “What was the dream about?”

“You.”

Although her eyes brightened, she got tense, and the tendons in her neck tightened. “What about me?”

She waited in anticipation, and it seemed like my answer was going to be important to her. I convinced myself that she needed something to focus on other than the funeral, but the truth was I wanted to talk about what happened, so I said, “You kissed me.”

She shifted in her seat and pulled her phone out of her little purse to hide the fact that she had blushed. “What did you do when I kissed you?” she asked without looking up.

“I kissed you back.”

“Did you like it?” She stared at me, anxiously waiting for the answer.

I nodded. “Yeah, I liked it.”

She smiled, relieved to hear me admit it while sober. “Did I like it?”

“I don’t know if you liked it,” I teased. “You tell me.”

Her face quivered as if she wasn’t quite sure which expression to show. She stood and said, “Um, the car’s waiting. You need to get ready. I’ll meet you out front.” She turned on her heel and walked beside the pool toward the house.

“So, is that a yes?” I chuckled at how cute she was when she was rattled.

She walked faster but flashed a sexy smile at me over her shoulder before she disappeared inside.

When we arrived at the church, the funeral director opened the door to our limousine. I slid along the seat and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Lincoln stood beside me, and when she noticed the massive crowd of people filing into the church, she clenched my hand so tightly it almost hurt.

Aaron and Stan flanked us. Tim took his post at the door of the church. Mug and Kaz stood next to a rented sedan parked on the street. Everyone from the tour crew appeared to be present, too.

“I liked it,” Lincoln whispered as we walked together into the church.

“Liked what?”

“When you kissed me in your dream.”

Even though I already knew that, it still made me happy to hear her say it, and before I could stop myself, I leaned in as we walked down the aisle and kissed her neck just below her ear. She cried, and I wasn’t sure if it was because I’d been that bold in public, or because there was a huge portrait of Hal on a stand next to the coffin at the altar staring at us. Either way, I felt the need to apologize. “Sorry,” I whispered as we sat on the front pew.

She leaned against my shoulder and continued to cry.

The service was long, because a lot of Hollywood types spoke about what a great guy Hal was. It seemed more like they wanted people to know what great people they were. A couple famous singers sang and at the end, the minister asked if anyone else had anything they would like to say. Lincoln let go of my hand and stood. It was unplanned, and I was surprised because she told Hal’s wife at breakfast that she didn’t feel up to speaking at the service.

She made her way to the front of the church, stood in front of the microphone, held it with both hands, and stared down at the red carpet as she worked up the courage. It was silent in the church as if everyone was holding their breath. Eventually, she lifted her face toward the ceiling and closed her eyes. She opened her mouth, and the most beautiful sound came out. My skin went tingly as she sang a song that I’d never heard before. It was about getting wings and finding freedom. She started off slow and quiet, but her voice got stronger. When she belted out the powerful notes, an overwhelming emotion that made me want to smile and cry at the same time brewed inside me. I wasn’t the only one moved by the sound of her voice. People all around me were bawling.

When she finished the last note, it took a second for the sound to float through the rafters, then it was silent again, except for the sniffles of the people crying. Lincoln spun around and ran out the side door of the chapel. I rushed after her and found her in the middle of a rose garden looking up at the blue skies. I kept my distance and just watched her. Eventually, she noticed me and waved me over.

“That was the most beautiful song I’ve ever heard.”

She nodded to acknowledge the compliment, but her expression seemed uncertain. “Do you think Hal liked it?”

“I think he loved it.” I wrapped my arms around her, and she leaned her ear on my chest.

“I miss him.”

“I know.” I dropped my head to kiss her hair.

Her weight sunk into my embrace, which reminded me how painful it was going to be to say goodbye when that time came. It was coming soon, and I wasn’t only worried about how it was going to affect her.

“How did you get over missing your dad?” she mumbled into my lapel.

“I haven’t.”

She hugged me tighter, and we stood there just listening to the leaves rustling in the breeze. Someone eventually yelled, “Linny,” and it made us both jump because it sounded like Hal calling her. It was a thin man with a leathery tan. His hair was blond and his suit was expensive, but it hung wrong on him.

“Great,” Lincoln mumbled and wiped her cheeks with a tissue.

The man cupped his hands on either side of his mouth. “Let’s get a move on, sweetheart. They’re waiting for you to go to the cemetery.”

“Who’s that?”

“My dad.” She exhaled heavily and reached for my hand. “I can’t handle him right now. He’s going to make a scene.”

I eyed him from across the garden. Tim was positioned ten feet behind him and didn’t look impressed. “It will be all right. I’m right here. Besides, what’s he going to do in front of all these people?”

She turned her back and eyed the other side of the park as if she was considering bolting. “You would be amazed by what he’s capable of. The bigger the crowd, the bigger the show.”

“I’ll take you back to Hal’s place if it turns into a shit show.”

Her voice became timid and her bottom lip trembled. “He’s going to try to take over.”

“So, don’t let him.”

“He has a way of making me agree to things I don’t want. I have trouble saying no.”

“You’re not a little kid anymore.” I squeezed her shoulders. “Say it.”

She didn’t look convinced that an affirmation would work, but she said, “I’m not a little kid.”

“You are a smart, talented, independent, and beautiful young woman. Not only can you can take care of yourself; you can do anything you set your mind to. You are amazing. Say it.”

The corner of her mouth shot up in a confident smile. I thought she was going to repeat it, but instead she needled my ribs with her knuckle and teased me. “You like me. Say it.”

My heart pounded in my throat, not because I more than liked her, but because I knew I was about to tell her. I leaned in until my mouth hovered next to her ear, and I whispered, “You are amazing. Say it.”

She slid her hand under my suit over my chest and said, “You are amazing.”

My resolve to resist her completely disintegrated. I moved both my hands to cradle her jaw and stared at how the sunlight reflected in her eyes. She moistened her bottom lip in preparation. Her breath quickened to meet the pace of mine. I soaked up every detail—the faint smell of her expensive perfume, the perfect contour of her face, the upward curl of her eyelashes, and the crystal encrusted shine of her lip gloss.

“Linny.” Her dad walked right up to us and broke the intense gaze we were locked in. “Come on, honey. Time to go.” He knew he’d interrupted but didn’t seem to care. He butted in and hugged her, but she didn’t reciprocate. She let her arms hang lifelessly at her side. “Wow, you’re looking all grown up.”

Her body language was icy. “I thought you were in jail.”

He waved his hand in a dismissive way. “I beat that bogus charge. The police harass me because of who I am. It never holds up in court. It’s all bullshit.”

“Lucky for you I have such high powered lawyers,” she said with a snarky tone.

His smile was wry at first, but it transitioned into fake sympathy. “I’m so sorry about Hal, baby. I know how much he meant to you.”

She nodded her agreement with his statement, although it was obvious by the way he said it that he had no idea why she cared so much about Hal. She shot me a pleading glance as if she already wanted me to sweep her away from the situation.

He offered his hand to me in greeting. “You must be Cain.”

I shook his hand.

“Looks like you’ve been taking good care of her.” He squeezed his arm around her shoulders, and the force almost crushed her because her posture had become meek and frail in his presence.

I clasped her hand, and she stepped out from under the weight of his arm. “She takes care of herself.” I met his glare to emphasize that I was both serious and not intimidated by him.

He laughed and smacked my back with excessive force. “Good, so, we can take you off the ten thousand dollar a day payroll?”

I forced a fake smile and slid my palm across Lincoln’s waist to escort her away from him and toward the waiting limousine. He followed us and got into the same car. He sat back and seemed relaxed. He drummed his hands on his thigh as if he could hear some Caribbean music in his head.

“So, Linny, how long of a break do you need to take before we get back on tour?”

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