Page 65 of When She Needs Them Most

“Lincoln…” God, I’ve been so focused on my own hurts that I didn’t stop to contemplate the trauma he carries. “That never even crossed my mind.” His blue eyes fly back to stare intomine. “I’m serious. I’m not afraid of you. I’m afraid of something happeningto you.”

I honestly would have thought Arden relayed all of this to him, but I repeat my fears the same way I did last night when I was considering sneaking out.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, dipping his head to mine. “I’m not going to take any unnecessary risks. I spent the day feeling like I was about to crawl out of my fucking skin. All I wanted was to get home to check on you.”

His hand slides into the hair at the base of my skull, and he pushes his lips to mine.

I can safely say I’ve never been kissed the way Lincoln kisses me. It’s slow and needy, like he can’t get enough of the contact. Sensing his emotions fill the bond makes the moment even more intimate. Bonding doesn’t come with an instruction manual, but I do my best to send my feelings in return.

It’s hard to decipher, but it feels like he yearns to be wanted. For someone to choose him and not to walk away when things get tough. It’s humbling to be able to sense all of that.

A bond really is unfettered access to another person’s thoughts and emotions. It might be quick, but the link between us makes me feel connected to him in a way I’ve never experienced.

I pull back from the kiss, heaving for air.

Lincoln chuckles and palms my stomach. The look on his face takes my breath away as my eyes pop open. There are things we still have to figure out with their profession, but this fine hunk of alpha is mine.

Linc, Arden, and Kase are the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time. And I don’t intend to squander the gift the universe gave me.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Lincoln

My thumb runs over Chelsea’s lower lip as she blinks up at me from under her lashes. I’d fucking kill to be able to ignore the information Easton passed along this morning, but that would be the opposite of the right thing to do in this situation.

“The last thing I want to do is to ruin the moment.” I exhale heavily. “But our boss, Easton, filled us in on some information that I think would be wrong to keep to myself.”

“Okay,” she says in a shaky tone.

“Clark was a decent guy. I don’t want anything I tell you to take away from your memories of him.” My head shakes. “It seems like there’s a good chance he did some computer work for the men Emmett owes money to. This would have been right after the two of you…” Fuck, I really wish I didn’t have to be the one to tell her this.

“After he broke up with me?” she offers, searching my face.

“Yeah.” I nod. “This came from the tech guy at the main branch. He looked into Clark, and after he got sick, it seems like he wanted to help get his little brother out of debt in case he didn’t make it.”

Chelsea’s eyes widen. “It’s not that I don’t believe you. It’s just…that sounds nothing like the guy I knew. He didn’t even jaywalk. He would go back into a store and point out if they missed charging him for something.”

“And that’s still who he was. Doing one thing to try to protect his brother doesn’t take away from any of that.” I study the bond. She’s confused, but still relatively calm, so I go on. “When Emmett was harassing you, did he specifically ask for the money back?”

Her head tilts. “What?”

“Clark didn’t want you anywhere near any of it. It seems like he hoped he would get better and that the two of you could reconcile.” I grimace, wondering if I’m making things worse. “The bookie operation Emmett is in debt to has ties to the Manzo family. They’re pretty standard, as far as the mob goes, except they’re also trying to slither their way into human trafficking.”

“And Clark helped them?” she shrieks.

“Not with that,” I blurt out. “He was working on software to keep track of the financial side of the betting and even something experimental that Kase could explain, because I’m terrible with computers, but some kind of risk analysis software.”

“That does sound more like him. He was great with numbers.”

“Yeah, and really good with tech, from the sounds of it.” I give her a tight smile. “Only, it seems like the guys he was working for think he made a copy of all those files he was running. The tech guy for Shadow Security, Calder, couldn’t find the files themselves, but he did locate a search Clark did about a month before he passed away. He was looking for where he could anonymously report things like organized crime.”

Chelsea’s eyebrows rise. “He was going to turn them in?”

“Yeah, sweetheart.” I nod, still palming her swollen stomach. There’s technically no way of knowing for sure if he would have gone through with it, but the man is dead. It costs me nothing to help preserve her memories of him. “Emmett’s text history seems to indicate that they were pushing him hard to retrieve that proof.”

“I don’t have it,” she says, and I can feel the truth of words radiating in the bond. “After he broke up with me, I never saw him again. If it exists, it would be in his belongings, which I’m pretty sure went to Emmett.”

“Except for that box that your neighbor mailed.”

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