rubbingitout_GEN

by Lexxie Couper

  He grunted but didn’t let her go. Instead, he shook her again. Harder this time. “Stop—”

  She slammed her head back, hitting something solid.

  Nose.

  It crunched, Pete swore, his arms growing slack. For just a second.

  Run.

  She didn’t. Spinning, she slashed the knife in a frenzied arc.

  “Bitch!”

  Blood sprayed from his cheek.

  Head roaring, she slammed her shoulder into him, sent him tumbling into the wall, and sprinted for the front door.

  Get out. Scream. Get help. Get out!

  “Niki! Get back here!”

  Footfalls thudded on the floor behind her, pounded into her fear. Adrenaline turned the air in her lungs hot.

  She ran. Straight for the door.

  Open. It’s open.

  Relief rushed through her fear and a sob burst from her lungs. A few metres. Just a few, and she would be—

  Pete grabbed her arm.

  Her feet flailed beneath her. Her bare heels slid on the polished floor. She fell, caught herself, and screamed when he yanked her back to him again. Pain lanced up her arm. Fury erupted in her gut.

  She punched, kicked. Thrashed.

  And screamed again as he slammed her to the wall, pinning her there with his body.

  “Shhhh.” His forearm ground into her shoulders. He rammed one knee between her inner thigh. “Shhh. It’s going to be okay.”

  “Get the fuck off me!”

  “Shhhh. We’re alone now. It’s going to be okay.” He squeezed the wrist of her knife hand, the pain agonizing, his stare locked on her mouth. “We’re finally alone. After all this time. The way it should be.”

  “I don’t…” She shook her head slightly, one cheek pressed to the wall. “I don’t even know you.”

  He jerked his stare up to hers. “Yes—yes you do. Remember? When Crowley stopped you in Bali. When he shoved you into that car without answering any of your questions. I was there. You looked at me.”

  Memories of that night flayed at her mind, fighting against the waves of terror crashing over her. Lincoln, furious with her, demanding she tell him what the hell she was thinking…another man, as tall as Lincoln, hovering in the shadows and holding a gun…watching… “Get the car, Snyder,” Lincoln had growled, and the man had stepped back into the night.

  She frowned. “You were the other guy with the big gun.”

  His lips curled and, nodding, he returned his stare to her mouth. “Yes. That was me. And now we’re together, beautiful girl. I had to pretend the agency was threatening your life to get Crowley away from you, but we’re together now. Finally together!”

  Her stomach lurched. Pretend the agency… so Lincoln’s old bosses didn’t want to hurt her? Relief rushed through her, followed by cold fear.

  Finally together. God, what was he going to do to her? “But I don’t… We’ve never…”

  His stare roamed her face. His hips ground hard to hers. He crowded her with his body, removing his arm from her shoulder to drag his thumb over her bottom lip, shaking his head. “I didn’t want to rush you. But then you left Perth and I lost track of you, until you turned up at Crowley’s tattoo studio. Why did you go to him? He’s a snake. He doesn’t love you. He doesn’t deserve you!”

  The sick knot in her stomach twisted. What should she do?

  “It doesn’t matter.” His stare drilled into hers. “You’ll forget him. I know you will. It’s time for you to accept that you’re mine. We’re meant to be together. I knew it from the moment I saw you in Bali. You’ll realise it as soon as I get you away from Crowley. As soon as I take you—”

  “Hey, Snyder,” a cold voice said.

  He snapped his head toward the open door, a heartbeat before a metal baton smashed into his jaw.

  Chapter 10

  Ice. In his lungs, his body. In his fist.

  The fist slamming over and over into something wet and malleable.

  Pete’s face.

  Murderous ice.

  If you don’t stop, you’ll kill him.

  Somewhere, someone was screaming. Shouting.

  “Lincoln! Stop!”

  On the floor, face bloodied, eyes swollen, Pete moaned. “Sssop…sssop…”

  You’re mine. Pete’s words to Niki scraped at him, gouged at his mind. We’re meant to be together.

  He punched Pete’s face. And again. And again.

  “Lincoln!” Niki cried, her voice high and scared.

  “Sssop…” Blood flowed from the mashed mess of Pete’s nose. “Crowl…ssop.”

  I knew it from the moment I saw you in Bali. More of Pete’s words rasped through Lincoln’s head. You’ll realise it a soon as I get you away from Crowley.

  Crowley.

  Fucking Crowley.

  He’d been on the way to Hyde Park when the uneasy itch between his shoulder blades, the one that had started with Pete’s message on the rock, exploded into razing prickles he remembered well.

  Doubt. Suspicion. Uncertainty.

  A gut instinct that something wasn’t right—the very instinct that had kept him alive for so long in his Crowley days.

  He’d pulled to the kerb, breath steady, scalp crawling.

  The rock. How had it gotten into his letter box? If Pete had contacted him via their old handler, there wouldn’t be a need for the cypher, really. So, logic dictated Pete had put the rock in the letter box himself…

  Then his ex-partner had known the location of the safe house. But if that was the case, why had Pete seen the need to send Lincoln halfway across the city to give him a message? Why not just knock on the door and tell him?

  Lincoln’s scalp had crawled again.

  Not right. Something was not right at all.

  The urge to get back to Niki had rushed through him.

  He’d just put his truck into gear, ready to throw a U-turn and head back to the safe house, when someone knocked on the driver-side window.

  Ruckus.

  Lincoln hadn’t bothered to ask how his cousin knew where he was. Ruckus had ways.

  “Someone’s been tracking you,” Ruckus had said. “By your phone. For a while now, it seems.” Dark sunglasses covered his eyes but nothing could hide the menacing rage in his body. “They’re good. Took me for fucking ever to detect the hidden code and unencrypt it. Didn’t help that you killed your phone back at your warehouse. Good thing I can resurrect any electronic and enjoy the challenge of a puzzle.”

  Lincoln’s chest had tightened. So had his grip on the steering wheel. “Who?”

  “No idea. But I activated a remote sweep of your safe house a moment ago and detected a tracking device signature in the garage. You got a new car in there?”

  A new car…

  A Hyundai. The one rented by Niki.

  The world had turned cold. “Give me your mobile phone.”

  He’d called the landline to the safe house, the seconds waiting for Niki to pick up a hell he’d never experienced before.

  A hell that tore him apart when she didn’t answer.

  “I gotta get back to Niki.” He’d slammed truck into gear and took off. To hell with the speed limit.

  He’d slammed on the brakes at his house, approached the wide-open door cautiously…

  And saw Pete. Inside. With Niki.

  And the ice engulfed him.

  “Lincoln!”

  Niki’s voice, high and scared and cracked with panic.

  “Ssop,” Pete slurred, the word wet and gurgling. “Sssop…Lincoln…”

  The ice cracked. Lincoln bunched his fist. Pulled it back. Blood dripped from his knuckles. Hit the floor…

  Stop. You’ll kill him.

  “Lincoln?”

  He turned his head at Niki’s soft voice.

  She studied him, eyes wide. Jesus, was that a knife in her hand?

  The world rushed back at him. Fast. A blur of colour and sensations, and the ice shattered. Head roaring, heart hammering, he dropped P
ete’s shirt front and staggered backward, turning to Niki.

  She threw herself at him, wrapped her arms around him and buried her face into the side of his neck.

  “Niki.” He held her, pulled her as close to his body as he could, staring at Pete as he breathed her in. His calm, his world, his center. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

  Sorry he’d brought all this shit into her life. Sorry he hadn’t been here.

  Sorry she’d seen who he was.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She burrowed into him even more and shook her head. “Don’t you dare be sorry!”

  Pete’s head rolled side to side on the floor. A crimson-red river of blood ran from his nose and, Lincoln saw now, a long slice on his cheek—a slice from a knife.

  “Sss…sss…” he slurred, eyes swollen to bruised slits. “Shhsss…shhsss…”

  Kill the bastard. Kill him.

  Ice slithered through Lincoln again. Insidious. Addictive.

  Kill him.

  Niki hugged him tighter. “Thank you,” she whispered against his chest.

  Twitching on the floor, Pete reached up, weak, blind. “Shhss…”

  Fucking kill him.

  Niki pulled back a little and looked up at him. Christ, had he ever seen her so scared?

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, smoothing his palm over her head. Safe. She was safe.

  For now.

  “Don’t be sorry.” A scratchy sob filled the last word, and then a smile tried to curl her lips. “I would’ve beaten him if I had a cricket bat.”

  Fierce, hot love for her rushed through him, melting the ice.

  “Sssshe’s…mine,” Pete slurred.

  Lincoln swung his stare back to his ex-partner, every muscle in his body coiling, ready to end a life in an instant. “I’m going to—”

  “It’s all good, cousin.” A strong hand—each finger covered in tattoos—closed around Lincoln’s shoulder. “I’ve got the fucker. You look after Nikalene.”

  Stare snapping to Ruckus, he released a shuddering breath. “What are you doing here?”

  Ruckus dropped a wink and stepped past him. “You didn’t think I’d follow you? I’ve got your back, mate.”

  “Jusss try it…” Pete mumbled, trying to get to his feet.

  Without preamble, Ruckus swept them out from beneath him and slammed his size-14 booted foot to his chest. “Stay down.”

  Lincoln watched for a second, and then turned away, taking Niki with him. Ruckus was not one to fuck with. “C’mon.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Somewhere not here.”

  He pulled Ruckus’s mobile phone from his back pocket and dialed a number he’d never forget. A number that would never change, known by a certain group of Australian citizens.

  A flat, emotionless voice answered on the second ring. “Customer service.”

  “This is Crowley. There’s spoiled milk in aisle nineteen,” he said, before ending the call. A simple code, but one that spoke volumes. Spoiled milk—corrupt agent; in aisle—was down; nineteen—Agent Snyder.

  Crowley may be dead, but he still knew how to strike.

  You always will. Which means you’ll always have a target on your back, and Niki will always be in—

  “Do I want to know what’s going to happen to your ex-partner?”

  Her soft question killed the disquieting thought. But not the dark chill it brought. He led her into the bedroom before answering. “No. Get dressed. We have to go, ASAP.”

  She studied him. Shock still shone in her eyes, but so did a fierce steel. Courage and feisty defiance. “Okay.”

  The bleak chill spread through him. He knew her well. Well enough to know how much of a fighter she was. Give her a cricket bat and tell her their lives were in danger and she wouldn’t think of herself. She’d take to whoever was threatening them with that bat without hesitation.

  He loved that about her. And at the same time, it scared the shit out of him. She was damn near fearless. Was he really going to throw her into a possible life she should be scared of? A life he didn’t seem to be able to leave behind?

  “Pete was the man you were talking about?”

  She stiffened, a frown pulling at her eyebrows. She still trembled. He wanted to kill Pete all over again.

  “It seems so. I didn’t know who he was back in Perth. He was just some creepy jerk who started,” she paused, rubbing at her arms, “freaking me out twelve months ago. Following me everywhere. Leaving messages on my phone and gifts at my door. Apparently he got…he got all hot and horny over me in Bali, when you stopped me from beating up Dutton with the cricket bat.”

  You’re mine. We’re meant to be together. I knew it from the moment I saw you in Bali. You’ll realise it a soon as I get you away from Crowley. As soon as I take you…

  Pete’s words—the ones he’d heard as he’d entered the house—scraped at him. Pete. His goddamn ex-partner.

  As soon as I take you…

  Lincoln gritted his teeth. He remembered Pete asking questions about Niki after he’d bundled her off. A lot of questions. He’d assumed back then it was for their report.

  For twelve months, the sick bastard had been stalking her. For twelve months she was harassed, exposed. And what had he been doing? Hiding out on the other side of the bloody country.

  Twelve month of her life a living hell, thanks to the life he’d once led.

  A life he would never be able to entirely leave behind.

  Mouth dry, he drew in a slow breath.

  The agency always had their claws in you, even when you were a ghost. And he’d always have enemies because of what he’d done for the agency. Which meant his life, and hers if she was with him, could never be normal.

  “What happens now?”

  We go. Get out of here.

  No. No matter how much he wanted to say that, he couldn’t.

  He flicked his house a quick look. He’d miss it. Thank God it wasn’t the only one he’d bought over the years.

  Turning back to Niki, he forced a relaxed smile to his face. “I book an Uber.”

  “You killed our phones a few days ago, remember.”

  “I’ve got Ruckus’s.” He grinned, even as cold tension wrapped around him. “He can pay for your trip, even if he doesn’t know it yet.”

  “My trip?” Her eyes narrowed. “You mean our trip, right?”

  “You need to get back to Perth.” He brushed his thumb over her jaw. “Back to normal life. Once I…talk to my old bosses, clear things up, I’ll meet you there.”

  Liar.

  His gut clenched.

  Niki’s eyes narrowed some more. “You’re not thinking of doing something stupid, are you, Lincoln Wells?”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Me?”

  Before she could answer, he withdrew Ruckus’s phone from his back pocket, opened the Uber app and selected Sydney Airport as the destination.

  His gut turned into a twisted knot. She was never going to forgive him for what he was about to do.

  Ever.

  *

  Perth was wrong.

  Being back at work? Wrong.

  Bebe trying to apologise for her brother? Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

  Hosing out the dog run, Niki glowered at the cloudless blue sky sweeping overhead. Stupid weather.

  “Hey, Nikalene!”

  She started at her boss’s shout. And glowered some more at her grin.

  Her boss laughed. “Water restrictions, Nik. I think the run is clear of poop.”

  Letting out a shaky breath, Niki turned her attention back to the large concrete area where the dogs waiting for homes ran about on rainy days.

  Returning to her job at the animal shelter had felt right and wonderful a fortnight ago, when she’d been expecting Lincoln to walk through her door at any moment.

  Of course, the bastard hadn’t walked through her door, had he? No, the bastard had just…dropped off the face of the earth.

  Again.

 
She’d be worried if it wasn’t for the fact Bebe had assured her that he was alive. Instead, she was angry. Pissed.

  “He’s just…disconnected,” her best friend had said ten days ago, guilt swimming in her eyes.

  Turning off the water, Niki reeled in the hose and, stopping to collect the cricket bat she’d kept at work for almost a year, made her way to the shelter’s large-animal area. Two horses monitored her movement from behind the fence. Both had been rescued from their abusive owner four days ago. Both would take a long time to trust humans again.

  “Know that feeling,” she murmured, snagging two small apples from the crate near the fence. The horses skittered back a few steps as she approached. The biggest, a mare who was worrisomely underweight, stamped her front hoof, eyes wide.

  “It’s okay.” She kept her voice low, placed the cricket bat on the ground at her feet, and then held up the apples. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. Getting hurt sucks. Trust me, I know.” She’d made it her mission to rehabilitate the poor things. To show them the world wasn’t as horrible as their existence had taught them. What better way to put Lincoln Crappy Wells behind her than to heal the wounded hearts of abandoned, defenseless—

  “And what would you do to the person who hurt you, Nikalene?” a familiar male voice asked.

  She froze. The horses’ ears twitched, their focus on the person behind her.

  Damn it, she’d left the freaking cricket bat a few feet behind her.

  “Tell him to fuck off,” she said, turning her head just enough to make sure her words would reach his ears as she gave each horse their apple. If she didn’t, she’d throw the fruit at the bastard new arrival as hard as she could, and that would only spook the horses. “Tell him he’s a gutless prick bastard who doesn’t deserve me.”

  Silence.

  “Fair enough.” The soft crunch of boots on dry grass sounded in the still air. And then, “He doesn’t. You’re too good for him, and he has been a gutless prick. But in his defense, he did it to—”

  She spun around and locked Lincoln in a fierce glare. “Don’t.”

  He stopped. The high sun threw sharp shadows over his eyes but she could still see the anguish etched on his face. Good. The bastard deserved to suffer.

  “Niki.” Palms toward her, he took another step. “Let me explain. I did it to—”

  “If you say ‘to protect me,’ I’m going to grab that cricket bat on the ground over there and smack the crap out of you, do you understand?”