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LINCOLN
Victor jumped to his feet and slammed his fists on the desk.
“What the fuck?” His rage came out in a roar that shook the walls and scared the hell out of his press secretary. Even Vince startled and took two steps back.
Lincoln placed what he hoped was a reassuring hand on Renee’s upper arm. “May we have the room?” he requested.
Renee nodded and hurried out of the office with Vince on her heels. Lincoln closed the door and turned to Victor. Livid couldn’t begin to describe his brother’s demeanor. He’d seen him angry before, but Victor was almost unrecognizable. As a politician, he’d developed a thick skin. He was accustomed to the media scrutiny. But he may not have been prepared for the media attack on his wife.
However, if Lincoln knew nothing else, he knew Taylor was no shrinking violet. She was tough as nails. With all the shit she’d been through, weak and meek was not an adjective that described his brother’s wife.
Lincoln closed the office door and turned to find his brother standing right in front of him.
“Let me pass, Linc.” Victor’s tone was calm, but he couldn’t mask the rage hidden beneath.
Lincoln held out his hand while blocking the door. “Where ya goin’? We need to come up with a strategy.”
His normally bright irises instantly went from a vivid green to the darkest jade. “Oh, I have a strategy,” he hissed. “I’m gonna go beat the shit out of that little jackoff.”
Lincoln placed his hand on Victor’s chest to stop his advancement toward the door. There was no way he could let him out of the room. There was no telling what he would do in such an angry state. To most, his brother was the charismatic young governor who solved his problems with diplomacy and charm. However, Lincoln knew his brother better than anyone. If pushed, diplomacy would go straight out the window, and he would have all the charm of the Loch Ness Monster.
“Victor, you need to calm down so we can get Renee back in here. Let her do what she’s good at. What you pay her for.”
“Move, Linc.”
“Victor—”
“Move!” Victor roared.
Being the eldest brother, Victor was not accustomed to repeating himself. Although they had their squabbles, he was mostly in charge. As children, they’d looked up to him and normally complied when he had a request. But they weren’t children anymore.
Lincoln planted his feet, prepared to stop his brother from leaving the room. “What’s wrong with you? You’re in the middle of a campaign. You can’t go beating up some fucking reporter.”
“Fuckthe campaign!” Victor boomed before hurling his fist into the door.
Any other man would’ve flinched at the sound of the wood splitting beneath his brother’s fist, but Lincoln stood his ground. His brother wouldn’t do anything to hurt him. At least, he hoped he wouldn’t.
“Take a breath, brother. What’s more important, expressing your anger or protecting your wife?”
Lincoln pushed him in the chest, just hard enough to move a man as big as Victor. When Victor narrowed his eyes and advanced toward him again, Lincoln held his hands out.
“Come on, Victor.” He sighed. “You’re not thinking straight. Get Renee to kill that story. Protect Taylor now. Deal with the reporter later.”
Victor paused suddenly and looked down at the floor. Lincoln could hear his brother’s breathing go from rapid to normal. Hopefully, he was reconsidering a hasty decision made out of anger.
When he finally looked up, his eyes had returned to their normal hue. He walked around his desk and leaned on his palms. Lincoln didn’t know whether to walk over to him or hold his position in front of the door.
Victor inhaled a deep breath and exhaled. He picked up his cell and dialed. “Kena, send Renee back in, and get me a meeting with Jack Storm.”
Once he was done giving the instruction, he touched the screen to end the call. Victor sat, and Lincoln took tentative steps away from the door. Thankfully, his brother had heeded his advice. The last thing he needed was another scandal.
Lincoln walked over to the liquor cabinet and poured them both a healthy portion of Scotch. He placed a glass in front of Victor and took a seat in front of the desk. Victor retrieved the glass and took a large sip.
“You’re right,” he admitted. “If anyone could kill or spin a story, it’s Renee.”
Lincoln nodded his agreement and sipped from his own glass.
