“But… Jack’s his VP. That’s a big arrest. Why would he do that?”
“Got some theories, but I doubt anyone will be spelling it out for me. I may work for your brother, but I’m no Sinner. You know how it is. I’m just doing as I’m directed.”
“How long can you keep playing both sides like this?” Pressure builds in my chest as scenarios flit through my mind. “It’s dangerous, Linc. This will catch up to you. And then what? You end up in prison?”
“I doubt I’d make it to prison. Axe wouldn’t allow that.”
My movements falter, and I wobble. “What do you mean by that? What would he?—”
“Again,” he says, steadying my target.
“This isn’t working,” I snap, taking a step back. “It’s just… rage fueling me.”
Smiling, he pushes away from the bag. “All right. Let’s try a different outlet. Punch me instead.” He widens his stance, one foot positioned slightly in front of the other, fists up. “Come on. Not the first time you’ve thrown a punch my way. You said you’ve taken self-defence, right? Show me and my punchable face what you got.”
With a breath out, I swing.
He catches my fist in his hand and twists me around, pulling my back tight to his chest, trapping me.
“Gonna have to do better than that.” His mouth is at my ear, his hot breath hitting my neck.
A flush of goose bumps rushes over my skin.
It’s a distraction. A reminder of what those lips can do.
I grit my teeth, struggling against the tightness pressing against my lungs.
“How you gonna get out of this, Gracie?” he whispers. “Let’s see how tough you are.”
With a grunt, I drop my weight to my legs. Then I forcefully push his arms up and slide out of his hold and onto the ground. Immediately, I twist around and kick at him.
He rears back, surprise flashing across his face. “Good. Let’s go again,” he says.
I push up to my feet, ready to kick his ass. I need this. I need to get rid of the stress eating at me. The fear. This sickness that’s been churning in my stomach since I sliced that knife down and ran.
Before my feet are back in position, a six-foot-something Lincoln Decker is lunging at me. I yelp when he makes contact, and we tumble onto the mat with a thump, his body crushing mine.
“Hey,” I cough. “I wasn’t ready!”
“Attackers don’t wait until you’re ready.” He pushes up on his elbows. “I’m on top of you and there’s no one around to help. I’m bigger and stronger than you. How do you get me off?”
I smile. “I stab you.”
“You can’t get to your knife.”
Wiggling, I shove my knee up, aiming for his groin, but before I can make contact, he slips himself between my legs, his body tight to mine, effectively stopping my attack. I flail, legs kicking, but he only seems to gather more strength.
“Flopping around like that will only burn up your energy. Wrap your legs around me,” he directs as he immobilizes me.
“I’m pretty sure if you’re attacking me, the last thing I’ll want to do is pull you closer.”
He grunts. “Just do it, Grace.”
With a sigh, I sling my legs over his hips.
“Now yank me forward and then thrust out. Use the momentum to push me back. You’ll want to get your feet in front of you so you can kick me away like you did before.”
It’s a struggle. Like he said, he’s bigger and stronger than me, but I use my hips to drive him back over and over again. Eventually, I give a big enough thrust to throw him off. My feet hit his chest, and he grunts as he falls on his ass.
