by Petrova, Em
Without warning, Linc’s mouth came crashing down on hers in a punishing kiss. His hands tightened on her ass, gripping it painfully and pulling her against his erection. Picking her up, he stomped into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him with a foot and tossing her on the bed.
She bounced as he stripped his jeans off in one swift move, then tore at hers. His eyes were still hard like blue diamonds, shimmering, and Vanessa knew with a strange sureness what this was about. He was proving a point, trying to scare her away. He was trying to hurt her, to use her, to make her leave.
It wasn’t going to work. Vanessa wanted this too badly.
She helped, tugging her t-shirt over her head, going for her bra clasp, but when he ripped it off her shoulders, not caring for the flimsy fabric, she knew she wouldn’t be able to play along. This was Linc’s show now.
He was trying to use her, to show her he wasn’t worthy.
Linc held a condom between two fingers. “Not gonna fall into another trap. I’ve learned that lesson.” Her heart fell at the words, knowing this wasn’t the Linc she fell in love with, the Linc who held her while she cried, laughed with her, loved her. This Linc was different.
Ripping it with his teeth, he rolled it on, jerking himself violently. His hands roughly spread her legs before dipping inside her. A smile of satisfaction stole across his face, and he scissored his fingers inside her, stretching her. The sensation was a bit foreign, as she could feel his fingers as they spread against her inner walls. Vanessa cried out, but not from pain. He thrust in and out, increasing the pace, and just the pleasurable sensations overtook the scary thoughts that this wasn’t Linc anymore. As she rose the heightening crescendo, he abruptly stopped. Planting his hips between her thighs, his erection pulsing, he continued his maniacal kisses. They moved from her face to her neck, where he buried his head. With a roared curse, he held her hands above her head in his strong grip, plunging himself inside her, thrusting furiously.
Vanessa turned her head to look at him. He was in total control, staring at the pillow next to her head blankly, the veins in his temple pulsing. Even with the shade drawn over his face, she saw him: his pain, his past, and his own feelings of futility.
She had this one chance. They were connected, on whatever sick level he’d allowed, but she wasn’t giving up yet.
“I love you, Linc.”
He froze his movements, collapsing on top of her, a limp bundle of hot muscle, face buried in the crook of her neck. She felt hot moisture there and knew he was crying. Linc was still inside her, their bizarre coupling only halted briefly at her words. But as he drew in a shaky breath, his hips pulled out then pushed back in, more gentle than before. His hands released hers and went around her body, so she still couldn’t move, but he was holding her in his strong embrace as he moved over her, thrusting. Vanessa’s arms went around him, holding him close, and he groaned in her ear.
“God, I can’t do this, Van. You’re so much better.” His words were agonized, tortured, and final.
“But we are doing this, see?” she pleaded with him, her own words sounding breathless, her tone foreign to herself.
He refused to look at her, so intent on chasing his own release, which made it odd that Vanessa felt herself quicken anyway. The waves of sensation got bigger with every pull and push against her, each stroke in and out, every stroke of his hips against her clit. Linc’s body on top of hers was hot, overpowering, and completely lost to her. He wasn’t speaking again, but his grunts spoke to her in a way she’d never realized.
Linc hated himself and was trying to make her hate him, but she couldn’t. There was no way in hell she ever could.
He eased back off her a little, pulled out, and flipped her over effortlessly, right when she was on the verge of climax. He was back to the angry sex, but Vanessa was afraid this wasn’t the kind of angry sex where there would be a happy make-up at the end. When he slammed back into her from behind, she very nearly came, seeing stars. Pulling out and slamming back into her with a muttered, “Fuck,” Linc’s hands were probably leaving bruises on her hips, but Vanessa didn’t care.
She would hurt tomorrow, but it wouldn’t be a physical pain. Right now, she was lost. His next push in had her tightening around him, arching her back in a climax that took her breathe away, and releasing in a loud wail. It lasted for a long time, pulsing her walls around him, causing Linc to break out in frenzied thrusts, slamming into her repeatedly, as if pissed she’d had an orgasm and he hadn’t.
When he finally did come with a shattering roar, he stilled himself and pulled out of her one last time before she collapsed on the bed, limbs Jell-O and gasping for breath.
He stomped off.
When he returned, something cold and wet slapped onto her back. “Clean up and get out. I need time for this, Vanessa.” It was a wet wash cloth, one he used to use to clean her himself. Biting back tears, Vanessa watched Linc bend over and pull up his jeans before sliding a t-shirt over his torso and stomping out of the room.
He still wouldn’t look at her.
“I know what you’re trying to do here. Don’t think I don’t realize you’re trying to push me away.” A tear finally escaped and tracked down Vanessa’s cheek as she mindlessly grabbed her clothes. “Congratulations. I think you finally got through to me.” This hadn’t gone the way she’d thought it would. For a minute there, she thought she’d reached him, thought he’d caught the ball, but he’d grabbed it and lobbed it back at her, over her head and into the neighbor’s yard. The neighbor with the mean dog—the one that promptly ate the ball.
Even if she ever got the ball back, it would be unrecognizable, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted it.
Chapter Forty-One
Linc burst into The Pint, oblivious to anything around him. He’d been in a fog since he’d found out Cindy had lied about being pregnant, since he found out the entire town once again thought he was an imbecile. And after the way he’d just treated Vanessa, he was starting to agree with them.
For fuck’s sake, he needed to get the hell out of Mystic and start over somewhere else. He slammed his ass on a barstool and looked around for Nick, not seeing him anywhere. Instead, he found Tiffany. Perfect. Vanessa’s friend who would be more than happy to run back to her and talk about how Linc was swimming around in the bottom of a beer bottle.
He eyed her as she walked over to him, stopping to grab a beer out of the cooler, twist the top off, and slide it toward him. “Where’s Nick?”
“His sister’s in Austin. He’s going to be gone a day or two.” He’d forgotten his sister was having surgery. It wasn’t serious, Nick had said, but double mastectomies weren’t exactly outpatient surgeries. She offered Linc a smile, and as hard as he tried, he couldn’t read anything into it. She seemed to be genuinely smiling at him, not hiding a trick or a lie behind it.
“Can I ask you something?” Linc took a swig of his beer, then pulled it back to his mouth for another, letting the carbonated hops burn down his throat. “What the fuck to women want in a man?”
“You want to know about women in general? Or Vanessa?” Tiffany propped herself on her elbows, eyeballing Linc. Her eyes were tired but kind. He didn’t see any judgement there, so he went for it. He had to fucking talk to somebody.
Another swig. “Vanessa,” he grumbled, hoping there was some sort of bartender/patron vow happening here. Doubtful.
Her voice lowered, like lovers sharing a secret, which had Linc craning closer to hear her. “Vanessa wants you to admit you like her as much as she likes you. She just wants you to accept yourself the way she’s accepted you. That’s it.” With hands spread, and eyes eager, Tiffany made it all sound so easy.
“That’s deep. How about if I gave her a kitten?”
Tiffany slapped him with the towel she had thrown over her shoulder, and he chuckled as he tossed back the rest of his beer. He needed to see his dad next.
***
“Hey, Sam, is Dad around?” Linc walked into the har
dware store to find his sister manning the counter. As she turned an icy shoulder to him, he realized he’d fucked up with her, too, but she was so low on his ever-growing pile of priorities he didn’t even know how to start fixing shit with her.
So he went into the back, where his dad most likely was, only to find him pounding on an adding machine with his pencil.
Dropping himself into a chair, he let out a sigh while his dad finished adding the column of numbers he was working. When he finished, he ripped the tape off the machine, stapled it to a pile of papers, and dropped the pencil, only to watch it roll off the back of the desk.
“Dad,” Linc started, but his father held up a hand to silence him.
“I know what you’re about to say. You think you messed up again. Sam’s pissed at you, so it’s likely that if she’s pissed, it’s because Vanessa’s mad at you, and I’m too old for this shit. You guys left high school behind years ago. So here’s what I’m going to suggest.” Rolling his chair back from the desk, Linc’s dad folded his hands over his ample belly. “I’m looking to retire in the next year or two, and I want you and Sam to take over the store. But to do that, you need to start working here regularly. So I’m making y’all joint managers. You’ll come in full-time hours, with paid benefits.”
Linc was struck speechless. Dad had offered him the job when he’d gotten out of prison, but he wouldn’t take it, thinking it might hurt his business. He’d only come in a couple times a week to help out with the heavy jobs his dad and Sam couldn’t do.
“Second, you’re going to go home and clean up. You need a haircut and a shave. And you need to wash. Your clothes look like something Gus would wear. After you’re done with that, you can start working on your house. I haven’t been by there, but I can guess it’s a sty.”
“Dad—” Linc started, but his dad’s hand stopped him.
“Then, you’re going to go by Vanessa’s house and do whatever it takes to get her to take this.” He reached into a drawer and pulled out a ring box. When Linc opened it, a gasp left his mouth.
“But this was Mom’s. I can’t give her this. She won’t take it.”
“Mom’s gone. It’s mine now. Before that, it was my mom’s. It’s been passed down ever since my great-great-grandfather Isaack Ward gave it to his wife Emily.”
Linc felt all the blood drain from his face. “Isaack and Emily?” Just then, something weird happened to Linc. Something primal shifted inside him, and he knew with a sudden certainty his dad was right.
About everything.
“Can you give me the deposit?” Linc wasn’t sure if this was the right thing to do, but it was something everyone had wanted him to do for a while now. Some part of him broke open when he spoke the words, and he felt a chink of dust-mote-laden light shine through.
His dad’s face broke into a weathered smile. “Do everyone a favor and take a shower first, son.”
Linc raced home and jumped in the shower, washing away the guilt with the dirt. If Vanessa’s ghost had led him to his great-great-great-grandmother’s diary in her house, then that said there was more at work here than either of them realized. As he scrubbed his body and his hair, he imagined all the misinterpreted intentions washing down the drain. He would start over with her. He would make love to her so gently she would forget all about the fucking he’d done the last time he’d seen her.
She’d told him he’d succeeded in pushing her away, and Linc prayed she was wrong.
He got into his truck and drove to Mystic First Bank with Dad’s deposit and went inside, standing in line for Mrs. Graham, Amanda’s mother. Her eyes widened when she saw Linc, and his heart thudded in his chest. He blew out a breath as she took the deposit and clicked keys on her computer before locking it away in a drawer with a set of keys on a rubber-coiled wristband.
“Come speak with me?” she asked him quietly as she handed him the receipt, and he nodded.
He shoved the receipt into his pocket and followed her, unsure, yet knowing he had to do this. For closure. For acceptance. He couldn’t be what Vanessa needed until he forgave himself, and he couldn’t do that until he spoke with Amanda’s mother.
She led him through a door with a keypad and he found an understated breakroom, cheap furniture, and the odor of burned coffee. She sank into a seat at the table, motioning for him to do the same.
“I’m glad your father finally got you to make the deposit.” Her voice was kind, yet shaky.
“Yes, ma’am.” Now that he was here, he had no idea what to say. He’d tried to think on the way over but had come up blank, hoping words would come when he got here. So far, nothing. Meekly, he offered a trite, “I’m so sorry.”
She tutted at him, patting his hand, and Linc’s eyebrows raised with surprise. “If you had said that to me nine years ago, I would have burst into tears, Linc, but not now. That time has passed.” Removing her hand, she leaned back and pursed her lips. “I’ve been watching you since you came home, Linc. You carry a burden you shouldn’t. What happened wasn’t your fault.” She raised her hand to silence Linc’s automatic objection. “Sure, you made stupid choices, and so did Mandy. But if she hadn’t died in the wreck with you, she could just as easily have died on her way home with someone else.” Smiling a watery smile at Linc, she continued. “Or in her sleep. Or in a drowning accident. She couldn’t swim, did you know that?” Linc shook his head. She absently wiped a tear from her cheek. “The point is, I forgive you. You were being a stupid teen. And horrible consequences happened because of it. But you’re still young, and I hate seeing you walk around town looking like a ninety-five-year-old man, because before you know it, you’ll be a ninety-five-year-old man, and all you’ll have to show for your life is guilt you shouldn’t shoulder.”
Linc was struck dumb. He had absolutely no words left to say to her now. He’d thought today was about him saying his piece and begging for her not to hate him. But it wasn’t. His dad had been pestering him to come so she could forgive him. He felt his eyes water, and he sniffed back the tears, unwilling to show the weakness he knew she already saw.
Fuck.
“Thank you, Mrs. Graham,” was all he could manage to choke out.
She stood, opening the door for him. “Don’t be a stranger now, okay?”
Chapter Forty-Two
Vanessa was working in the rose garden two weeks later, trying not to remember Linc’s face when he’d planted the roses. That was months ago, but it seemed like years. His face had held so much hope and insecurities, as if she actually might not like it.
Idly, Vanessa wondered what the house would be worth now, with all the improvements done on it. Could she sell and move? Could she say goodbye to the home she had planned and admit defeat? She didn’t want to. In fact, the idea gutted her. She couldn’t say goodbye to her friends here. And she couldn’t let Ian win.
She was so pissed at Ian, she could happily watch him rot in jail for the next ten years, but her dad was another story. The lack of faith in her as a human being was detrimental to everything she held dear. And facing it without Linc at her side was only making things worse.
She sighed and planted her feet, determined to get this especially sturdy weed out of the ground. When it came, she fell on her backside.
Victor had moved in with Samantha for a little while, getting a job at The Pint as a bar back until he had his TABC license to serve. So she was home alone, again. Only now, there wasn’t anybody fixing anything up because it was all beyond her brother’s realm of expertise. He was willing to learn, but she wasn’t willing to let him practice on her house without supervision. And she didn’t know enough about anything to help him.
She had contacted some drilling companies to see if she could get an oil lease on the place. If Ian was right, there was oil underneath the ground, but somebody would have to drill to know for sure. And people actually paid the landowners to drill. That had shocked her to find out, but she was going with it.
And to think it all started because I
an wanted her back home with her money. It wasn’t even a lot of money. Of course, that’s how it had started, which was bad enough, but when Ian decided there was oil here, he doubled up his efforts with the doll.
Yeah, Vanessa was certain she wouldn’t move back home, but she wasn’t looking forward to being in Mystic, either. Even seeing Sam was just a reminder of Linc.
She was trying desperately to forget about him, any future with him, as well as her past. But her past with Linc was everywhere she looked. And it hurt like hell.
The diary even reminded her of Linc. Isaack and Emily had overcome all sorts of odds, and it sort of mimicked her and Linc. But in the end, she didn’t know what happened to them. It left off in New York after the war, but Emily ended up here, so what exactly did that mean? And that just reminded her she didn’t have a clue what had happened to her and Linc.
So when his truck came bumping up her driveway, his motor growling in the silence of the chilly afternoon, she wasn’t surprised. She couldn’t avoid him. Reminders everywhere.
Vanessa stood, brushing dirt off her pants and wiping the sweat off her brow, wishing he’d given her some notice. She would have liked to have worn something that screamed, “Eat your heart out, sucker!” Unless, of course, he was back for another booty call, in which case she was glad she was decked out in eu de garden soil.
His long legs carried him over to her, sheepishly torturing his ball cap between his hands. When Linc reached her, he didn’t look up, only stared at the ground at her feet.
“I’m really sorry, Vanessa.”
Vanessa took a deep breath, channeling her inner-warrior. She wasn’t going to back down under the scrutiny of those piercing blue eyes. “Sorry for what? For assuming I was cheating on you with my brother? Or using me like a blow-up doll?” She crossed her arms across her chest, ignoring his flinch at her harsh words.