Chapter Thirty-one: Heartbeat

Chapter Thirty-one

Lincoln

HEARTBEAT

Performed by The Fray

It took longer than I wanted for Katerina to respond to me, giving me a bitter taste of my own medicine, knowing this was exactly how my family felt when waiting for me to get back to them. I killed the time by pulling from the internet as many images as I could find of the mural at The Tea Spot. I enlarged them, printed them out so all the details were easy to see, and gathered the supplies I needed.

When my phone rang, I picked it up expecting it to be Katerina, but it was the contractor who'd remodeled my house and was handling the renovation at the gallery. He reminded me he was coming the next day to get started, and I swore to myself silently. It meant I'd need to box up my projects and move them from the studio upstairs to the house.

But it would have to wait as I was anxious to get back to Willow. The sun was already warming the streets with a midday glow, proving I'd already been away from her for hours. So instead of packing, I grabbed the single box of supplies I'd put together for the mural and headed out the door.

I'd barely stepped outside, and the two hulking men in the black garb more reminiscent of special forces than the Secret Service had just flanked me, when my phone buzzed again.

"Lyrica, I'm a little tied up. Can it wait?"

"She looks like Sienna."

I barely resisted the urge to toss my phone. My tone was sharp and brutal when I replied. "She does. But I'll say the same thing I've said to my mom and anyone else who brings it up, I'm not with her because of how she looks or doesn't look. Willow and I have already discussed it, and we're okay. I won't let anyone upset her by bringing it up, are we clear?"

She didn't speak for several seconds, and I paced outside the gallery, waiting as my irritation grew and my need to get back to Willow surged.

Finally, she said, "It's just… I know you, Lincoln. I can hear it in your voice. The protectiveness you feel. You have this overwhelming need to shield everyone in your life. It's how Felicity got her claws into you. Now this woman shows up, looking like the lost love of your life, and I can't help but worry for my friend."

If she knew just how much more was going on than the photos, she'd worry more. But telling Mom about Willow's witness protection and the notes was one thing because my parents' resources might be able to help. Telling Lyrica would only make her increase her worries.

I inhaled deeply, letting some of the irritation fade. "I'm good, Lyrica. Honestly. I'm actually letting things go and moving on." Even with everything that had happened this week, even with Sienna reappearing, there was still truth in those words. It had taken Willow showing me the light for me to see I'd been stuck, relishing in the remorse as if it was the penance I had to pay. But really it had just been a selfish way to hold myself back, keeping even my family and friends at bay. "I can see a happy life with her."

And I could. At least I could see the beginnings of it. Slow Saturday mornings lost in each other's skin. Laughter. A heavenly bliss that smelled and tasted like Willow. We just had to find a way to cut the strings of our pasts trying to pull us back so we could focus on the new threads weaving us together.

"You deserve to be happy, Lincoln," she said softly. "You've always deserved it."

How many times had she told me she didn't blame me for getting shot? How many times had I agreed but not believed it?

"You deserve it too," I told her.

"I do," she said.

"Are you happy with Merci?"

"She's my current chapter. I don't know if she's the rest of my book yet." The day she'd broken up with me, Lyrica had told me, Our life is supposed to have different chapters with different arcs and different people in them. It gives us the experience we need to realize when we've found the ending we want to keep. You're not my ending, Lincoln, but I'll always love the chapters that had you in them.

"Willow isn't just a chapter I'm breezing through. She's my ending," I told her.

She made a sound of surprise. "I'm really, really glad. When do I get to meet her?"

I snorted at the request that mirrored Mom's, and I gave her the same "soon" response before ending the call.

I picked up the box of supplies, gave the two bodyguards a nod, and then jogged across the street, hoping to get back to The Tea Spot before anyone else interrupted me.

When I walked in, the café seemed even more packed than normal. Not quite the crowd that had been there to see Willow's food art, but it was definitely buzzing. The air was full of a restless chatter that spoke of the drama that had occurred as much as coffee and scones.

Hector saw me, gave me a wave from behind the counter, and hollered, "Willow went home with Erica."

I couldn't help the beat of sheer panic that flew through me. I debated dropping the box and racing to the cottage just to ensure she was still there. Even knowing Willow didn't want to go, that she wanted the chance for her and her mom to build a life here, I wouldn't blame Erica, or the Marshals, for insisting they leave.

My hands gripped the box so tight, the edges bent.

She wasn't gone. Willow would never disappear without saying goodbye. And I wouldn't be an obsessive asshole who couldn't give her the space she needed to figure things out with her mom. I wouldn't be Felicity no matter how strongly the need to see Willow and protect her raged.

No, I had to trust Axel and his team would discover a way to end this for them—for all of us—before anyone forced her hand.

So instead of storming out of the café, I stepped over to the wall, set out my supplies, and used painter's tape to hang the images I'd printed out. While I worked, I felt eyes on me. It wasn't the skin crawling sensation I'd had all week, but more the curious sensation of people who recognized me. I hadn't worn a baseball cap or glasses again today, but I wasn't sure a disguise mattered anymore. My secret time tucked away here had come to an end.

I ignored the looks, trusted the two bodyguards to watch my back, and started drawing.

I'd already sketched the animals and part of the woman by the time Hector joined me. "You don't have to do this, Lincoln."

"I want to. It'll never be the same, but it'll be as close as I can make it," I said. When I looked up, his normally grinning face was lined with concern.

"You know what's going on with them. With Willow and Erica?" he asked.

"I do, but it isn't my place to say."

"You hired those men." He glanced to the one leaning up against the wall only a few feet away. "To keep them safe."

"Yes."

"Thank you." His voice was deep with emotion. "It means more to me than I can say. More than even this." He eyed the mural, throat bobbing. "And that means a whole hell of a lot."

His employee, who always seemed one step away from falling apart, called his name. Hector rolled his eyes to the ceiling, patted me on the back, and then set off for the counter without another word.

My phone rang, and maybe because I was distracted, or maybe because I was still waiting to hear from Katerina, I answered once again without glancing at the number. "Hello."

"I was just crawling out from under the psycho label you hung around my neck, Lincoln, and now you've got people hunting me down? Accusing me all over again?" Felicity's voice was sharp and brittle. Nothing like the happy, warm voice she was renowned for using in her movies and interviews. It was one of the things I'd learned about her first. That she could carve knives in you with a simple tone and a smattering of words. That she got off on doing just that.

"You hung that label around your own neck, Felicity."

"I saw what I wanted and went for it. I did everything I could to get it. If I were a man, people would be cheering me on, patting my back, and saying good job. Because I'm a woman, I'm called unhinged."

"The fact that you had someone break into my home, my computers, and my phone said that, not because you're a woman," I snapped.

"Whatever. Just call off your hunting dogs. There's nothing here for them to find."

"I swear on all I hold holy, if you have anything to do with what's going on right now, I'll do everything in my power to make sure your career is over for good. You won't even be able to get a gig for a backwater television commercial."

"I have no idea what's going on with you!" she hissed.

"Someone's leaving notes, using your words. The ones you tossed out about me not deserving the fairy-tale of you. Who else would write them?"

"You don't deserve me. Just like Rex Carter didn't. Just like that shitty director who just rejected me for his stupid part doesn't deserve me," she ranted before inhaling sharply, and calming down some. "I'm done with you, Lincoln. I want nothing to do with you. Please leave me out of whatever this is and let me be."

A dark chuckle escaped me, "Feels pretty crappy, doesn't it? To want out of something. To want to move on and have someone dragging you back kicking and screaming?"

"So, this is some sort of twisted payback?" she demanded.

I pushed a hand through my hair in exasperation. Felicity had a way of tearing away my nice and making me show the ugly I didn't even know had lived inside me before she'd entered my world. "No. Just like you, I want to move on. I don't want to go back, not for revenge or any other reason. If you say you had nothing to do with this, I'll try to believe you. But, like you were always telling me, you're a really good actor. Lies are what you do for a living."

"Leave me alone, and I'll leave you alone."

She hung up, and I ran a finger along a brow before hitting Axel's number. When he answered, I said, "I just got a call from Felicity."

"Doesn't surprise me. She was pretty wound up when I talked with her. She insisted she hadn't made contact with you in months, which we know is a lie. Then, she went on and on about how she didn't give two shits what was going on in your life before saying if you brought the past back up and the media got wind, she was going to sue you for slander and take every dollar you had."

"You think this is her?"

"I think we can't close the door completely yet, but I'm working on it."

But a little voice inside me wasn't sold that what was happening here had anything to do with her. I'd thought earlier that if it wasn't Felicity, the other option would be terrifying, and I felt a tremor of that fear run through me once more. If we marked off all the boxes, and the only option left was Aaron, it would cost Willow her entire world and would ensure Felicity's words came true for me. Because losing Willow would wipe away any chance I'd ever have for a happy ending. That third strike would be merciless and last a lifetime.