My throat tightens, and I have to swallow hard as I step to the side, out of his path. He moves with me, blocking me in like a caged animal.
I force a polite smile that feels like it might crack my skin, and I nod slowly.
There’s no need to lie. The evidence is all out in the open in technicolor for all to see.
“Can’t fucking believe you’re disgracing your brother with a damn Scorpion.”
He won’t understand, but still I quickly sign.
Not a conversation I’m having at work.
Once again I step to the side, rushing past him, my heart racing as sweat pours down my back. I look over my shoulder to see if he’s following me, having learned my lesson already about not being aware of who’s around me. He’s not. Just standing there, shaking his head at me.
It’s not until I’m safely inside my office, door locked, sitting at my desk, that I realize how badly my hands are shaking.
I try to calm down, taking slow deep breaths, but it’s not working.
One inhale.
One exhale.
All I can think about is not falling apart here. Doing that will show people how vulnerable I am, and I refuse to let them see that.
Slowly, it seeps in that this is what I’m going to have to deal with. If I really want to pursue this with Lincoln, we’re going to be a constant topic in the tabloids.
Scorpion brother and Kraken sister.
A part of me wonders if this is something that Lincoln will even want to deal with. Will he want to continue to hurt his brother in the public eye? Because I know Benton is livid about this, so I can only imagine Korbin is too. Maybe Lincoln would rather not have his brother mad. He is family after all. I’m not.
My phone vibrates on my wooden desk, sending electric impulses up my hand where it’s resting right beside it.
The screen lights up with a message from a person who must have sensed my inner turmoil.
Lincoln: Hey. I’ve been thinking about you. How’s it going today?
Do I lie? Tell the truth? Before I can make a decision, another message comes through.
Milton: Is your brother giving you grief?
Lincoln: Are you there, Bayleigh? Give me at least a thumbs up or down.
Milton: No you can give me the thumbs up. Just tell Lincoln to screw off. (wink emoji)
Lincoln: Are you at work?
Milton: What do you do for work? How does Lincoln get to know and I don’t? I’m the one you rescued when that mean kid tried to end my hockey career. My wrist is still hurting too.
Me: I’m fine.
I start to type another message to address all the questions, but Lincoln is quick to send another message.
Lincoln: I know what fine means in women's terms. What’s wrong?
Me: I’m at work. I’m the social media manager for the Krakens. Have you seen the doctor about your wrist?
Me: Normally I work from home, but today I had to come in to take some pictures for the website. I still have a job to do. One of the rookies cornered me about the pictures.
Lincoln: Did he put his hands on you? Where the fuck was your brother?
