Lincoln parked near the steps and shut off the engine. The sudden quiet rang in my ears. He was out of the truck before I even reached for the handle. When he opened my door, his hand came out automatically.
I took it.
The warmth of his fingers wrapped around mine, solid and sure. He didn’t speak as we walked toward the house, his thumb brushing small, slow circles against the back of my hand. His jaw was still set hard, eyes scanning the yard as if he expected something to move in the shadows. But when he felt me watching, his grip tightened. He pulled me closer against his side, his body heat cutting through the chill that had settled in my bones.
For the first time since finding that note, I didn’t feel like prey. I felt protected.
And as much as I hated admitting it, part of me needed that. Needed him.
Inside, the house smelled like coffee and cedar, the scent that always reminded me of him. The familiar warmth of the kitchen wrapped around us as he shut the door behind me and locked it. The sound of the bolt sliding into place sent a strange kind of relief through me.
“We’ll figure this out,” he said quietly. His voice had steadied, though the rough edge was still there. “He’s not going to touch you. Not while I’m breathing.”
Something in his tone made me believe it. It wasn’t bravado or a promise he couldn’t keep. It was a fact. Plain and simple. I let out a slow breath, the tension in my shoulders loosening for the first time since that note hit my hands.
“Okay,” I whispered.
Lincoln reached out, brushed a strand of hair away from my face with his thumb. The simple gesture made my throat tighten harder than the fear had.
“Come on,” he murmured. “You’re home now.”
His voice was soft but sure. The words wrapped around me like a blanket.
For the first time that day, I let myself lean into him.
The rest of the world could wait.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
LINC
Ididn’t breathe until we were halfway down the gravel road out of Everton. The tires kicked up dust behind us, the kind that hung in the headlights like fog. Kristin sat silent in the passenger seat, her hands clenched tight in her lap, staring out at the dark fields sliding past the windows. The note was folded in my pocket, but I could still see it as clear as the moment I’d read it, still hearing the scrape of her chair across the shop floor when she’d backed away from it.
I’d failed her.
I’d promised myself she’d never know the weight of this. I’d been intercepting the messages, the threats, thinking I was protecting her. Thinking I could stop it before it touched her. But tonight, he’d gotten ahead of me. And the look on her face when she read those words would burn itself into my memory. I’d never forgive myself for that.
My grip tightened on the wheel. My jaw ached from how hard I was biting down on the rage clawing its way up my throat. Every mile between us and Everton felt like too little, too late.
“I’m taking you to Kipp’s,” I said finally. My voice came out rough, low, controlled only by force.
Kristin’s head snapped toward me. “What? No, I want to go home.”
I shook my head. “Not right now.”
“Lincoln,” she groaned and scowled at me.
“I said no.” The words landed harder than I meant. They came from somewhere deep, where fear and anger had mixed into one. I glanced over, trying to ease the sharpness in my tone. “Baby, I just need you with the girls. With Nora, Fallon, and Elle, somewhere I know you’re covered. I won’t be gone long.”
Her eyes narrowed. Suspicion flickered there. She knew me too damn well. “What are you planning?”
“Nothing stupid.” The lie left a bitter taste in my mouth. “Just need to talk to the guys.”
Her lips pressed tight, but she didn’t push. She turned back to the window, shoulders stiff, and I hated leaving her like this. But I’d hate to let her face this threat without every line of defense I could build around her. The silence between us filled the truck, heavy but familiar.
By the time we rolled into Kipp and Nora’s drive, the sky had gone dark, and the porch light threw long gold streaks across the snowbanks. The house looked calm, safe, the kind of place I needed her to be. I parked, killed the engine, and walked her up to the porch.
The door opened before I even raised a hand. Nora stood there in an old cardigan, eyes sharp and kind, scanning both our faces. “Everything okay?” she asked, though the way her brows drew together said she already knew it wasn’t.
