Chapter Twenty Eight
Lincoln
I didn’t go after her because I knew that she was hurting and that she needs time to think after the bomb that was dropped on her, and I'm not so much of an asshole that I’m not going to allow her to have what she needs.
But I am still an asshole considering what I said to her, but a part of me can’t help but be afraid that I’m going to lose her to him, that maybe a part of her does want him—it’s not like she denied it when I asked her—and those pictures that Serenity posted? They could be innocent and I’m taking them completely out of context. But what if I’m not?
By the time I get home, I’m fuming. Brady’s claims make me more and more pissed off each time I think about what he’d said and the cocky, careless way he’d said it as if my girl is nothing more than a piece of property to him.
Shoving through the front door, I make a bee-line for Dad's home office, ignoring the questioning looks from my brothers as I barge past them.
“Hey, Dad,” I say, knocking on the door frame to get his attention. When he looks up from the papers that he’d been looking at, I ask, “You got a minute?”
He must be able to tell from the look on my face that it’s something serious because he puts the papers down, leans forward on his desk, folding his hands together and giving me his undivided attention. “What’s going on, Son?” He asks, getting into dad mode.
“It’s Raleigh,” I start, then shake my head. “Or, well, it’s about Raleigh.” Pulling out one of the chairs in front of his desk, I sit down and then say, “I think she needs help.”
“Okay…” he says, questioningly. After a moment, he says, “Why don’t you start from the beginning.”
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and then begin. “There’s this guy Brady Stevens—”
At the mention of the Stevens name, Dad’s eyes widen and he holds his hand up and asks, “As in Reginald Stevens?”
I nod and he mutters a low *Son of a bitch* and grabs a pen and a legal pad to take notes.
I relay to him everything that Brady said, watching as his face darkens with each word that leaves my mouth. Once I’ve finished telling him everything, I say, “She swears that her father would never do something like that but I’m not so sure.” Then finally, I ask, “Is there anything that we can do?”
“I’ll see what I can find out about it and if I can get my hands on that contract—if it even exists.” Dad says, then looking me straight in the eyes, he says, “Son, I swear to you, if there is anything to his claims, I will get to the bottom of it and do everything within my power to help Raleigh.” He stands up and rounds his desk, wrapping his arms around my shoulders, he pulls me into a hug and then says, “I know she’s important to you.” Then, as if an afterthought, he says, “And even if she weren't, nobody should have their freedom of choice stripped away from them because of someone else’s mistakes.”
“Thank you,” I tell him, squeezing him back.
“Is there anything else?” He asks, stepping back to take me in.
I shrug, knowing that I was in the wrong for how I reacted to the news and my own accusations toward Raleigh. “Afterwards, Raleigh and I got into a fight.” At his raised eyebrow and obvious look of *go on*, I continue, “I may have inadvertently accused her of wanting to be with him, instead of me.”
“You dumbass,” he growls, glaring at me. “Are you serious?” When I nod in confirmation, he asks, “Did you try to make it right, or at least apologize to her?”
“No,” I sigh, looking down at the floor and shuffling my feet as shame fills me at how I had reacted.
“You’re a dumbass.”
“I know,” I agree, still not looking up from the floor.
“You better make it right,” he demands. I just nod, still unable to look at him.
He scoffs in irritation and moves past me, exiting his office and leaving me behind with my thoughts. Thoughts of how I managed to royally fuck up an already really fucked up situation and that I probably don’t deserve Raleigh, or her forgiveness.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I pull up her contact and hit call. When it goes to voicemail after one ring, my call being rejected, I sigh. “Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t really mean those things that I said, I know you don’t want him. If you did, you would be with him because, Baby, you could have any guy you wanted and I’m a lucky bastard, because you chose me.” Running my hand over my face, I know I need to finish up before the message cuts off. “We will figure this out. I promise. Just, call me, please.”
After hanging up the call, I stay in Dad's office for a few more moments before heading out to what I know are going to be a bunch of questions from my brothers.
As soon as I step out, I find all three of them leaning against the wall, waiting for me.
“What’s going on?” Bos asks, looking me over.
“Just some fucked up shit with Raleigh,” I say with a shrug, not really wanting to get into it. It’s not really my story to tell and if I didn’t need his help, I wouldn’t have told it to Dad.
“Want to talk about it?” Dal asks from beside Bos.
I shake my head no, but then I take my brothers in and say, “But when we go up against them, we need to kick Rydell’s ass. And anytime someone gets a chance to take down Brady Stevens, they better fucking take it.”
“Stevens?” Jax asks, his eyes squinted as if he’s thinking. “Is this about those pictures that Casey showed us at lunch?”
“Not even close,” I state as I move past them, wanting to get to my room and just have some time to myself. They must take the hint because I don’t hear their footsteps following after me as I make my way up the stairs, thankful that they're giving this to me instead of pressing the issue.
A minute later my phone pings with an incoming message.
**Bos: we’re here if you need us or want to talk.**
**Jax: yeah, I’m always up for giving someone an ass-whooping.**
**Bos: wasn’t what I was thinking, but that too.**
**Dal: Whatever you need, you know we’ve got your back.**
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