by Cara Dee
I inclined my head and leaned back in my seat. "I gotta be honest with you. I don't think it's a good idea we live in the same neighborhood, but since it's temporary until I can go home, I guess I don’t really care."
I was tempted to put in a request to transfer to my home state right away, which was an option. At the same time, as Pop had mentioned, it was better to make it as easy as possible for my review. If that meant spending the first few months in Michigan, so be it. Additionally, staying here made it easier to visit Kid.
Ade's jaw ticked, and she arched a brow. "Lincoln, you can live wherever the hell you want. I only wanted to help."
Oh-ho, now we're talking.
I smirked faintly. Maybe she hadn't gone completely soft?
"So there is a spark left in you," I noted.
"Hey, fuck you."
I smiled.
* * *
1998
"Is she asleep?" Morgan asked.
I nodded and sat down across from him in the booth. It wasn’t a long drive between Baltimore and Philly, but she needed all the sleep she could get.
"I don't know what I'm gonna do." I sparked up a smoke and took a deep pull from it. "She's getting worse—fast."
The night I first met Ade, she wasn’t like this. Granted, she was stoned. Carefree and happy. These days, however, she was getting terrible at hiding whatever it was that had seriously fucked her up.
Trying to convince her to go to rehab was out of the question. Morgan and I tried yesterday before the show, and she stormed off. I'd just thought…we'd been in the city she claimed to have family. Maybe sobering up there would've been easier? Then she could've joined me the minute she got better.
"You could cut her off," Morgan replied pointedly, to which I averted my eyes to stare out the window. "It's your shit she's getting high on every damn night."
I swallowed as the guilt pressed heavier on me.
He was right—partly, anyway. I still clung to my defense.
"That’s why she's with me." I flicked some ashes into an old coffee mug and took another drag. "If I don’t supply her, she'll run to the next guy who will."
Dammit, saying that out loud hurt far worse than thinking it.
"Are you going soft on me, Lincoln?" Morgan tried to keep it light. "You sound like you're in love with her."
"Yeah, well." Fuck you. Like some pussy, I couldn’t look him in the eye, and I got antsy.
"Jesus, man." Morgan sounded stunned. He lowered his voice so the guys across the aisle wouldn’t hear. "I'm sorry, I didn’t know it was serious." It probably wasn’t, for Ade. "This is all the more reason for you to push her. I understand what you mean, and addiction is nasty. It's highly possible she can't choose you over that garbage, but who do you think she'll listen to the most? A friend, or the man she's with?"
I had no idea, and I didn’t have the balls to find out.
*
We crossed the bridge, entering Philly and approaching downtown, so it was time to wake up Ade. Moving to the back of the bus, I switched on the lights and climbed up to my bunk. I let the drapes shut and lay down next to her.
"Tiny dancer…we're almost there." I brushed a kiss to her forehead and shifted her hair over her shoulder.
"Please stop," she whimpered, and my gaze snapped to her eyes. She wasn’t awake. "I swear I won't tell anyone, Kane. Please don’t… I'm sorry—Dad."
I sucked in a breath, and it felt like someone kicked me in the gut.
"Baby." I shook her gently, hoping like hell her nightmare didn’t mean anything. "Can you wake up for me?"
"Not again." A tear rolled down her cheek, and I squeezed her shoulder. "It hurts—please, please."
"Adeline." I'd never considered myself very protective by nature; I had only myself to look after. But motherfucking hell, rage unlike I'd ever imagined surged through me at the thought of my girl going through abuse. Was that it? Had her own fucking dad beaten her?
Chapter 16
Adeline Ivey
1998
I did a double take as we crossed the valet area in front of the hotel, and I cursed myself for imagining things. I was losing it. I had plenty of triggers, but now it seemed I couldn’t even see the kind of car my mother used to drive without thinking it was her.
"Hey, come here." Lincoln draped an arm around me and brought me close to him, and it was a second or two later I spotted a few photographers approaching. We picked up the pace and entered the grand lobby while Tony and Sam got stuck signing autographs for a few fans and facing the paparazzi. "You okay?"
"Are you?" I wondered, because he'd been tense since I woke up.
He nodded tightly and walked over to Morgan who had keycards for their suites.
"What're we doing tonight?" I asked as we headed toward the elevators. "Sam was talking about some club."
He shook his head and let me enter the car first, then pushed the button for the nineteenth floor. "You and I are staying in tonight."
I scrunched my nose. Being alone with Lincoln was becoming a drug of its own, though I needed the rest, too.
At the last second, Mikey and his flavor of the day got in before the doors closed. Oh, God. I coughed and shrank back in a futile attempt to escape the woman's perfume. Even Lincoln must've noticed her strong scent. He threw the giggling lady a look and then spoke quietly for only Mikey to hear.
I'd seen this enough times to know good stuff was about to be exchanged. I had no idea who the band's dealer was, but most of it passed through Mikey first.
"I'm Laura." The woman stuck out her hand and smiled too brightly.
I breathed through my mouth and shook her hand. "I'm suffocating."
Lincoln chuckled.
*
"You're kinda freaking me out, rock star." I grinned with my eyes closed as the hot water washed away the suds. "We're almost done, and you've barely copped a feel."
To prove a point, he slid his hands up my front and cupped my boobs. His mouth landed on my shoulder. "Better?" He continued kissing me along my neck, up to my jaw, and his long fingers teased my nipples. "Gorgeous." I wriggled my butt, wondering why he wasn’t hard behind me. "Let's order some room service."
I turned around, squinting in the wet mist. "I'm not hungry, but I won't say no to ravishing you in bed."
He smiled. Dark, wet, silky strands of his hair clung in spikes just over his eyes, and he touched my cheek. "Food first."
Something was off with him.
While he turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, I studied him for clues. He was so…I wasn’t sure, affectionate? Caring? He helped me out and wrapped me in a soft robe, then grabbed one for himself, too.
Back in the bedroom, my eyes automatically began seeking out my next hit. Lincoln sat down on the bed and called for a bunch of food we couldn’t possibly finish, and my heart skipped a beat when I spotted his guitar case. Or more correctly, his jeans that were thrown haphazardly across it. I bet he kept his stash there.
Was it too early to ask? These days, he seemed to wait longer and longer, and I was the one who tried to push. Subtle, I was not.
Lincoln let out a quick whistle to get my attention, and I looked over at him to see he was rolling a joint on the nightstand. "A couple Cokes, too," he said on the phone. "Great, thanks." He ended the call as I reached him. "Want some?"
I nodded and bit my lip, hoping there was more. Weed gave me a nice, relaxed feel. It didn’t sweep me off my feet, exactly.
"Come here." He lit it up and handed it over, and then he removed the decorative blanket while I took the first puff. "We're not leaving this suite until tomorrow morning."
"Oh?" Another drag, this one deeper. "Do you have big plans for us?" I noticed I was a bit twitchy; I felt tense and anxious, and I needed the weed to ease some of it. At least for an hour or two until I could ask for something stronger. A glance at the clock radio told me I had to wait. It was only a little past noon.
"Yeah." Lincoln patted the spot nex
t to him and leaned back against the headboard. "We're gonna get high, fuck, and be lazy all day."
I swore my heart soared at those words. It was like getting everything I wanted at the same time, and I grinned widely as I jumped up on the bed.
"That sounds amazing." I accidentally inhaled too quickly, and I ended up coughing. My eyes watered. "Oops."
He laughed quietly and took the joint from me. "I had a feeling you'd approve."
"Are you kidding?" I hugged his bicep and yanked the covers over us. "It's a dream come true."
He blew out a thin smoke ring. "That’s a good place to start. What else do you dream about?"
It was my turn with the weed, and I drew from it slower this time. My eyes closed momentarily, a mental glaze landing softly exactly where I wanted it.
"Dreams are silly," I answered absently. It was already getting warm. Taking another pull, I held my breath and extended the joint to Lincoln so I could get out of my bathrobe.
"Why would you say that?"
I shrugged and slipped off the hair tie around my wrist. "They don't do any good." I gathered my wet hair in a messy bun at the top of my head, one drop of water trickling down the entire length of my spine. "If there's one thing I've learned, it's that dreams are the picture of crushed hope."
I sat back again and flattened the fluffy duvet.
Lincoln hummed and leaned close. "Open your mouth, tiny dancer."
I smiled and met him in a featherlight kiss. He exhaled the sweet smoke between my lips, and I gave his bottom one a teasing lick. The heavenly fog filled my lungs, causing me to sway and my smile to grow lopsided.
As I exhaled in a perfect daze, he kissed the corner of my mouth and stroked my cheek almost…lovingly…his callused fingers ghosting over my skin as if I were made of glass.
"Without dreams," he whispered into a kiss, "we can't have goals."
"That’s okay," I whispered back. "I have you."
He groaned under his breath and deepened the kiss.
*
"Not another bite!" I fell back against the mattress and dropped the pizza crust on the floor. "Ugh. I'm so full."
"You had two slices." He shook his head at me. "You don’t wanna try the chili fries?"
I smashed my lips together, petulant. I wouldn’t be able to stomach it. Maybe later—way later. The munchies hadn't even hit, not that they struck me very hard. Only for sweets.
"Crazy girl."
I blew him a kiss.
While he tucked into the next dish, I kind of just watched him. I didn’t think it was the weed talking when I decided he was my favorite person in the whole world. He was safe. He was cutting, tall, broad-shouldered, and he used his imposing form to protect me.
Was he even aware of it? How he put himself between paparazzi and me—or the traffic—and how his deep bluish, mercury gaze sought me out in a crowded room, as if to make sure I was doing okay. He was rough and scruffy and tough, but he cared deeply. Whatever sort of affection he showered me with, or the love he radiated when he spoke of his dad…I had no doubt Lincoln was a great man.
"What're you thinking about?" he asked.
I sat up and reached over him to grab a Coke bottle. "It's a secret."
He smirked and pinched the side of my boob. Ow! "Tell me."
I sucked my teeth, rubbing the tender flesh. "Now I don’t want to, you…you pincher!"
He laughed, and after I'd taken a big gulp of ice-cold soda, he returned the bottle to the nightstand before hauling me down and rolling on top of me. The pizza and the Coca-Cola made a glunk sound in my stomach, and I giggled.
"Open your mouth, silly girl."
"You tell me that a lot," I said frankly.
His gaze flashed with indecency. "Have I ever put anything between those pretty lips you haven't loved?"
He had me there, so I opened my mouth, and he lifted his hand. Two pills were pinched between his fingers, and my body stiffened in excitement. Someone was in a good mood. What was the occasion? It'd been a while since he offered anything without my leaving some heavy hints. Or asking bluntly.
I swallowed them dry.
"Now tell me that secret." He wedged himself between my thighs and pressed his deliciously naked body against mine. "If you're a good girl, I'll make you come so hard you'll cry again."
My breathing hitched as his breath ghosted over my chest. Lowering his face, he captured a nipple with his teeth and grazed the flesh lightly. A ball of liquid heat pulsed toward my center, and I couldn’t help but swivel my hips to feel more of him.
"The secret…" The air gusted out of me, and then I was swept away. I floated in a pool of desire, hazy euphoria, and utter compliance. There wasn’t anything he couldn’t make me do. His large body covered mine, and his perfect kisses ignited me. "I was thinking—" I swallowed. "I was thinking that it's a good thing you haven't told me…you know…not to fall for you."
He hissed and slid his thickening cock along the lips of my pussy. "You beautiful little bitch." He caught my bottom lip between his teeth. "Do you like driving me batshit crazy?"
I don’t know?
"If it's in a good way." I gasped when the head of his cock nudged my clit.
He cursed, reaching for the rubbers, quick to roll one on. "That remains to be seen."
*
How many dust particles existed in one room alone?
They were pretty. Like summer snowflakes sparkling in the afternoon sun.
The flying swirls had settled after we'd collapsed in a pile on the mattress. Now, as our breathing had evened and it was quiet, the tiny flakes floated in slow motion in the sunbeam that shone through the window.
With Lincoln's chest as my pillow, I listened to the rhythmic beat of his heart. It was almost as lulling as the aimless strokes of his fingers along my spine.
"How are you feeling?" he murmured.
I sighed softly. "Like I never wanna leave this spot."
He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Duh." I smiled into the kiss I dropped on his chest.
He swallowed. "Will you tell me about your parents?"
Despite the automatic clench inside of me, I tossed him a playful smirk. "I don't have parents, silly man."
He called me silly girl earlier. I called him silly man. So there.
A crease formed between his brows, and he tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. "Who did you grow up with?"
I shrugged, stretching out next to him. "Awful, awful people?" I laughed at my own joke. "Mom, mostly. I never knew my biological dad."
"Stepdad, then." Lincoln swung his legs off the bed and dug around in his jeans. "You had one of those?"
I didn’t want to talk about this. Why ruin the perfect day we were having? "Yes—twice, sort of." I craned my neck to see what he was doing and smiled when I spotted another little baggie o'treats. Capsules were crushed, and he poured fine powder onto the notepad on the nightstand. "Shouldn’t those be swallowed?"
"Better rush if you inhale it." He had his back to me and looked tense, though his voice was warm and casual. "Tell me about your stepdads."
"It was only one," I answered automatically. "He and Mom first met when I was twelve. They broke up, like…a year later? Then got back together when I was sixteen."
Lincoln nodded slowly, seemingly thinking hard, and of course, all I saw was the happiness he was preparing for us. I damn near drooled, which was funny.
"How did he hurt you?"
I didn’t like his question. "We should fuck again."
"Do you like it, whore? Tell Daddy you like it."
"I like it." I curled in on myself as best as I could, sobbing into the pillow I hugged to my chest. He would be finished soon. The second time, he always took me from behind, and it was over quickly.
"That’s right… You're so good at it, aren't you?"
"Why?" Lincoln turned to me and held up the notepad with three lines.
"Because I'm so good at it.
" I winked at him and crawled toward him seductively. "Wouldn’t you agree?"
He clenched his jaw. "When did he start hitting you?"
I flinched at the emotional slap in the face, but I refused to waver, and I clung to my buzz. "You're asking the wrong question." My eyes asked the right question for me.
Can I have some…?
"What should I be asking?" He extended a rolled-up bill, and I was quick to snort the first line.
Oh, God. I spluttered and coughed, taken off guard by the bitter taste. This was different. And…ohh, so was the wave of serenity that followed. All air left my lungs, and I lost my strength. My back hit the mattress as the room spun and then slowed again. Whoa.
"You should ask…" Ha! My voice sounded funny. My tongue felt weird. Thicker. I snickered. "You should ask," I whispered, "when he started touching me."
* * *
2008
What the hell was I doing?
I shook my head at myself and brought the mail inside. One visit wasn’t going to change anything. I had to remember that, dammit. He'd never answered a regular letter before, so why would he now? Yet…I couldn’t help but hope every time I checked the mail.
Shortly after my last visit, I'd sent him a letter. No heavy topics, just covering some of the things his dad and I had talked about. Lincoln had expressed anger at being the last to know the plans, and so I'd wanted to tell him everything. Which wasn’t much. More of a confirmation he knew the gist of. The house next door being available for rent, job opportunities, places he could get counseling…
I'd told him he could call me whenever, and I could send him things. Things he was allowed to keep in there. Several weeks later…no response. I have to stop waiting for one.
Lincoln turned forty today.
His last nine birthdays, he'd spent behind bars.
Because of me.
I cringed, remembering what both Morgan and my shrink had reminded me constantly. Lincoln made his own choices. He was a grown man. I knew this. I knew it. But…that was the thing, wasn’t it? We fucked up. Sometimes, our mistakes were so grave we weren't sure we could come back from them.
Dumping the mail on the kitchen table, I started pulling items out of the fridge so I could make dinner. And I couldn’t stop from drawing parallels between my own mistakes and Lincoln's. The principle was there, anyway. Once upon a time, I'd been so deep into addiction and anxiety that Morgan had been forced to drag me out of my hell—until I could fight on my own.