Before we even reach it, the door opens, revealing Lincoln and River on the other side. Both of their faces are stark, and they practically haul us inside, closing the door behind us.
It finally hits me that I haven’t taken a breath in way too long, and I suck in oxygen like I just ran a marathon.
“Did you—hear?”
Linc nods. “A lot of it. Not all. I texted River as soon as I heard them come in.”
Dax and Chase fill the other two in on the parts they missed, and I watch Lincoln’s face settle into a hard expression as River shakes his head.
“We need to go to Dunagan with this shit. Soon,” Dax adds once the twins finish laying everything out. “We need hard evidence. We’re so fucking close.”
“Yeah.” Linc runs a hand through his dark hair, looking slightly sick. “Yeah.” His gaze shifts to me, and I see pain burning in his amber eyes. “Just give me a few days, all right? It’ll be harder with them back, but let me keep looking for a few days. I’ll… I’ll find something. I’ll make him say something.”
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I nod.
I can’t even imagine what Linc’s going through right now—what he’s feeling. We’re all still nervous to jump the gun and report anything before we have irrefutable proof, but I think there’s also a part of Lincoln that needs a little bit more time to accept that this could really be possible. That his father, a man he might not always like but certainly loves, could be capable of something as vicious and
heartless as what we witnessed.
“Yeah. A few days,” I murmur. “Get something tangible, and we can go to Dunagan after Christmas.”
He closes his eyes for a second, breathing shallowly. Then he steps forward and kisses me once.
Before I can draw all the comfort I need from that kiss, he pulls away, turning to face the other boys.
“You should all go. If my dad noticed the extra car in the garage, I’ll tell him Dax and Chase crashed here last night.” His gaze bounces between me and River. “I won’t tell him either of you were here. The fewer people he thinks might’ve heard them, the better.”
The others all nod solemnly.
“Go. Now. Take the service stairs and walk around to the garage. I’ll keep an eye out up here and text if there’s any movement.”
I pick up my bag and shove my scattered clothes back inside as the others disappear to grab their shit. As soon as the boys come back, the four of us make a break for it, hustling to the end of the hallway and down the stairs before slipping out through the service entrance. We’re all still dressed in our sleep clothes; nobody bothered to change.
We make it to Dax’s car and pile inside, then he pulls down the driveway and out the gate.
No text comes from Lincoln.
We’re safe.
But that doesn’t stop every muscle in my body from shaking the entire drive back to River’s house.
26
The next few days feel like being trapped in purgatory.
Lincoln won’t let any of us back over to his house—not even the other guys—and although I know why he wants to keep us away, I can’t stand the thought of him locked up there alone with Audrey and Samuel. Searching, all by himself, for evidence that his father is a murderer.
Jesus, how much more fucked up could this shit get?
We text every day, but despite the frequent check-ins, Linc has no news.
It makes sense. Mr. Black isn’t an idiot. He’s a sharp, cunning businessman—of course he knows how to cover his tracks. I’m half-tempted to take what we know to Dunagan now, to move on this before it’s too late.
But what if Mr. Black has Dunagan in his pocket too? What if the whole arrest at the Black cocktail party was a show, purposefully orchestrated so that the largest possible crowd could witness my mom being hauled away?
To anyone in the ballroom that night, Samuel Black probably looked like a hero, a concerned employer standing up for his employee. But he didn’t fight that hard. He let them take her. And his innocence was affirmed by her supposed guilt.
And what about that lawyer he recommended?