Page 19 of Carry On

Not if I could help it.

CHAPTER 15

NASH

WhateverLincolnwas,itwas nothing short of magic. I’d resigned myself to jail time, but he’d gotten them to drop all of the charges against me. And true to his word, I got three long-winded apologies coupled with thank yous for my service. Even the officers in the precinct took the chance to shake my hand when they could.

I hated it. I hated being thanked for something they had no real comprehension of. Thank you for my service? Did they even understand just how much I’d sacrificed for this country? What I’d given up? What had been taken from me?

Their appreciation was sincere, but they had no real clue what it meant. What it encompassed. I hated it.

But even as they did, my focus was honed in on where Lincoln stood with a dark-haired man. Everything in Lincoln’s body language and expression screamed discomfort, like he’d rather be anywhere than where he was.

And the other guy? I recognized a bully when I saw one. It took every ounce of restraint I had not to storm across the room and do something stupid all over again. Punching someone in a police precinct probably wasn’t my best idea, but the look on Lincoln’s face? It did something inexplicable to me. I couldn’t escape the conversations fast enough.

As soon as I was within earshot, I coughed loud enough to interrupt. The man turned while Lincoln’s expression turned appreciative.

“Sorry, but I need to talk to my lawyer,” I said, making it real clear I had no intention of leaving without Lincoln in tow.

“Right,” Lincoln replied softly. He gestured toward the exit, looking ready to run. “Let’s go.”

I was quick to put myself politely between the two of them—though I was real tempted toaccidentallyhit him with my guitar case as I passed.

“We’ll talk soon, Lincoln,” the other guy called after us.

Not if I could help it.

And what are you going to do?the voice demanded.He doesn’t need you or your help.

Lincoln didn’t say a word, but I did catch how the tension in his shoulders wracked up at the comment. He remained silent as we made our way to the elevator corridor, and I didn’t say a word, even as we just stood there waiting for one to open up.

“Friend of yours?” I asked when the doors shut.

“Hardly,” he muttered, pushing the button for the basement garage. He didn’t offer anything else, and I found myself oddly curious—wanting to know who the guy was.

And why would he? You don’t matter to him,the voice reminded me.

Right. It was right. Why would Lincoln tell me a damn thing about his life?

I didn’t push another button for a different floor, opting to just follow him to the basement garage. To at least make sure he got the hell out of there safely. I owed him that much. I could find an exit from there.

“Thank you,” I said into the uncomfortable quiet that had settled between us. His anxious, angry energy was palpable. I’d been around enough angry men to know what silent anger felt like.

“For what?”

“I’m not going to jail for one,” I retorted. That shit was obvious. “Not sure what the hell you did to pull that one off.”

“I threatened to destroy their lives as they knew them,” Lincoln replied a little too casually. The door dinged as it opened. I just stared at his back as he exited, completely bewildered by the words that had come out of hismouth. He what? When I didn’t move, he called over his shoulder, “Get off the elevator, Nash, before the doors close.”

“What the fuck do you mean by you threatened to destroy them?” I demanded while I followed.

“They’re assholes, so I was a bigger asshole.”

“Is there a video?” I asked because I wanted to see that shit. Hell, I’d pay to see that shit.

“Not a chance in hell,” he retorted, leading us across the garage. “Besides, it wasn’t all that spectacular. I know their type. Rich kids like that need their asses handed to them from time to time.”

A-fucking-men to that.