Page 32 of Crash
“Petrified,” I said with a sigh. This was stupid. I was calling Lincoln because of a motherfuckingspider.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted before he could answer. “You’re probably busy, and this is dumb. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not busy,” he said.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Violet,” he said firmly. “Do want me to come get it?”
I glanced up at the spider, which still hadn’t moved, and edged out the door into the hall. My throat felt thick.
“I’m coming over,” he said when I didn’t answer. “Give me your address.”
“You sure?” I whispered.
“I’m sure.”
I gave him the address, and he told me he was on his way. When the call ended, I clutched the phone to my chest, hardly believing that I’d just called Lincoln fucking Hayes, AUFC fighter, to come get a spider from my roof. If Ash found out, he’d never let me live it down.
I lingered in the hallway, wondering how far Lincoln had to come to get here. He was probably out with Andrea. I’m sureshe would’ve done something to crack onto him by now,it’d been weeks. What if I’d brought the wrath of little miss perfect down on me? I didn’t want attention. I couldn’t handle confrontation. I’d crumble under the pressure. Shit, I mean, look at how I was handling a fuckingspider.
When the buzzer on the gate sounded, I thumped my finger on the button to unlock it and bounded downstairs. Peeking out the door, I caught sight of Lincoln making his way up the front path.Lincoln was at my house.
Abruptly, I was aware that I was wearing pajama bottoms with the jumper I’d worn to work that day.
He smiled when he saw me lingering, his eyes flashing in the dark. “Hey.”
Stepping back, I opened the door to let him inside. “I’m sorry to call you,” I blurted.
“No problem,” he replied, looking around the foyer and into the kitchen. “Nice place.”
“You must’ve been busy,” I went on nervously. “I didn’t mean—”
“Violet,” Lincoln said firmly, his gaze fixing on mine. “It’s okay. Where’s the offending spider?”
“Upstairs.”
“Lead the way.”
I led Lincoln through the house to my bedroom, overly aware that he was inches behind me and about to enter my space.The space that was my home…and my hiding place.He was the first to step into it since that night. Ash didn’t count. This had to be progress, right?
I stopped at the door and pointed to the roof where the spider still sat, stuck likeglue,right above the place I slept. “There.”
Lincoln’s expression changed into one of determination as he stepped into my room, his attention firmly planted on the spider. “You’re right,” he said. “It’s a big fucker.”
He picked up the glass from where I’d left it on the bookshelf and moved forward, jumping up onto the bed.
“Fuck,” he cursed, swiping at the spider. “The fucker’s stuck to the ceiling. What’d you spray it with?”
“Hairspray,” I replied sheepishly.
Lincoln stared at me, dumbfounded, for a moment before bursting into laughter. “Well, you got it good. It’s fuckin’ hangin’ by a leg.”
I shrunk back as he stuck the glass over it. “Just get it down.”
“Just a sec,” he muttered, nudging the spider with the rim, and it dropped into the cup with a lightpingingsound. He smacked his hand over the end of the glass, trapping the Huntsman inside, and jumped from the bed. “Window.”
Darting across the room, I undid the window and wrenched it up, cold air blasting inside. I swept the curtainaside,Lincoln leaned out and tipped the glass upside down.
