Page 108

Chapter Twenty-Two

Tatum

“This is not up for discussion!” Lincoln yells from the bedroom and I laugh as I stomp away from him in a pair of shorts, pulling my diner t-shirt over my head. It’s actually quite admirable that after being shot and tased twice, the man still has balls left to challenge me.

“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, Lincoln Paul Archer, but you don’t get to tell me what to do. Not when we were together and definitely not now that we are split up.”

“Goddamn it!” he roars and I pick up my pace when I hear the pounding of his boots running after me. Ducking into the kitchen, I’m certain I have him beat but when we both enter the living room at the same time, I skid to a stop. With a huff, I turn back to the kitchen and pretend like I’m going back to the bedroom before I double back and book it for the front door. I’m almost there when I feel his arms wrap around my waist and lift me up in the air as I scream.

“I said no,” he growls, pinning my back to the wall and I grit my teeth.

“I don’t give a shit what you said.”

“Uh, morning, y’all,” Smith mutters, walking down the stairs with sleep still in his eyes. “What’s going on?”

“She’s trying to go into fucking work,” Lincoln snarls and I roll my eyes. It’s not like I’m walking into a lion’s den and besides, they could watch me there just as easily as they could here.

“Y’all can just sit in a corner booth and watch me there,” I say, trying to placate them.

Smith shakes his head. “It’s not a good idea, Darlin’.”

“Whose side are you on?”

“Whichever one keeps you alive.” He walks into the kitchen and heads straight for the pot of coffee I made this morning.

“You want something to do, baby?” Lincoln asks and I narrow my eyes at him. “Why don’t you cook us some breakfast?”

“Oh, shit,” Smith whispers, turning to face us as I glare down at Lincoln. He probably expects me to whip a gun out of my waistband for that comment but sadly, none are within reach.

“Really? That’s your solution? Let’s get the little woman in the kitchen where she belongs?”

His eyes widen and he shakes his head as I pull my arm back and punch him in the adam’s apple. He releases me in an instant and I land on my feet as he stumbles back and coughs.

“Not your brightest idea, dude,” Smith mutters as he sits down at the dining room table and pulls out his phone as he smirks. “I’m gonna get Fuzz to grab some donuts for us.”

“Are you laughing at your own joke right now?”

He glances up at me, unable to hide his laughter. “What? It’s funny. Getting donuts is the perfect job for a cop.”

“Oh my god,” I whisper, rolling my eyes as he glances back down at the phone and sends the text. Glancing around the living room, I realize Lincoln is gone and I sigh.

“I think you hurt his ego.”

I turn to Smith. “His ego is fine. Have you ever been punched in the throat? That shit hurts.”

“Maybe he just realized that you are allowing us to keep you here because if you really wanted to leave, we’d both be unconscious and you’d be out the door.”

I put my finger over my lips and furrow my brow. “Shh. Don’t spill my secrets.”

“Why don’t you ease up on him? He’s just trying to protect you.”

I sigh, sinking into the seat across from him. “And going about it all wrong. Would you ever allow someone to pick you up and push you against a wall? Men tend to think they can pick women up and toss them around as long as they are protecting them. The only difference here is I’m perfectly capable of defending myself.”

“Well, shit,” Smith mutters, staring down at his coffee.

“If I promise to stop, will you stop punching me or tasing me?” Lincoln asks from behind me, his voice hoarse. I turn to him and nod.

“Include me in the conversation from now on instead of barking orders at me and yes, I will refrain from physically assaulting you.”