Page 5 of Dancing With Lies

Lincoln undid the seatbelt and she waited, too afraid to move, for him to open the door and help her out. She didn’t want to get out though, something told her the minute she got close enough, her entire world would explode. “I can’t, Lincoln. I can’t get out.”

“You can, Chloe. Come on now, baby, get out for me.”

She shook her head again but found her legs moving and then felt her body as she pushed out of the car. She saw several police cars and was glad when Lincoln headed toward them. She didn’t want to focus on the inferno that was once her home. That had housed her family. Did it still house her parents and Aunt Katie? Were they in there?

Lincoln was about to interrupt someone who was talking to one of the police officers, but Chloe recognized the man with the neck tattoo and pulled at his hand, still wrapped around hers. Her eyes were huge as she looked up at him and then ducked behind him to hide, instinct taking over.

“Chloe, what are you doing?” He hissed but she punched him lightly in the ribs and pulled at him as she backed away.

They could still hear what the man was saying to the policeman and Chloe slowed as his words registered.

“Yeah, Mr. Abshire was deep in debt, you know? He owes a lot of money to the mafia and, well, I guess he had a plan to get himself out of debt but didn’t get him and the wife out in time. That’d be my guess, detective. Mr. Abshire himself set that fire.” Neck Tattoo said, and Chloe’s world imploded. Her parents were dead?

Her mind went blank as she stood there for what felt like an eternity. Did they say her parents were dead? How could it be? Did Neck Tattoo have anything to do with it? Her legs went numb as he turned to look her way, sending chills down her spine. Luckily Lincoln was there to pick her up before she fell to the ground and he rushed her back to the car. “Chloe? What the fuck is going on?”

“Get me out of here, Lincoln, please.” She only started to breathe again when Lincoln started the car and backed up before anyone had really noticed them there.

4

“No, don’t take me back to your house. They’ll know I might be there.” Chloe wasn’t sure if the mafia would know about her or not, but she was afraid they might, and she didn’t want the same thing to happen to June’s house. She was cold at the moment, too cold to let pain and anguish in, even if tears were slipping out from under her eyelids like hot reminders of what she’d just lost. Everything. Everything was gone.

For a moment, a streetlight caught the glint of her mother’s watch and she realized not everything was gone. She slipped open her backpack and unclipped the watch to let it fall into the bag gently. What was she supposed to do now?

“Who, Chloe? What the hell are you talking about? What was the guy saying about your dad and the mafia? That shit’s not true. Your dad would never…” But he had to pause because of a stoplight that distracted him.

“That guy was at our house not long ago. He punched my dad in the face. Busted his lip.” Chloe had tried to make herself forget about it, had pretended to believe her dad when he said he fell, had pretended she hadn’t heard those men in the yard, had pretended to believe the lies about the graffiti and broken plant pots. And now her mom and dad were dead? It couldn’t be. “Are they really?”

“I think so.” He grabbed at her hand, knowing what she meant without asking, driving with his knees when he had to on the backroads, just to keep hold of her hand as he drove them out of New York City. “I’m going to take you to a hotel, Chloe. Get you somewhere safe and warm.”

“Thanks.” She looked down at her hand in his and wondered what the hell she was supposed to do. She was over eighteen so the state wouldn’t need to find her somewhere to live, but if her parents had been murdered, or if her dad had killed himself and her mom, well, she didn’t want to see anyone right now. She’d talk to Lincoln about it. For the moment, he was probably the only sensible person she knew. Yeah, he was an ass, but he was also observant, smart, and coldly clinical when he needed to be. “Where are we going?”

“To Cambridge. I’m not taking you to my dorm, my roommate is an idiot. We might have to stop somewhere for the night anyway. Are you hungry?”

“No.” She responded without a thought. “Thirsty maybe, but not hungry.”

He stopped at a convenience store where she picked out bags of chips, beef jerky, and Slim Jims, things she’d never eat because she had to be careful what she ate, but she wasn’t really thinking about what she was doing. She felt numb, like she was just going through the motions. When she got back in the car, she wished she’d asked him to get her some whiskey or bourbon maybe. Anything that would knock her out before this dull numbness disappeared and reality crashed over her.

Lincoln drove on without a word for an hour and a half before pulling up to a really good hotel. She didn’t care if he’d stopped at one of the fleabag places her parents wouldn’t have looked twice at. She carried in her bag, the bag filled with food and two cold bottles of water, and headed in with him while he registered for a room. They went up in the elevator to a room high above the city where he attended MIT.

Everything was still a blur for her, reality still hadn’t settled in. And everything was…alright, until she sat down on the bed. “What am I going to sleep in, Lincoln?”

She looked up at him, her mind still too stunned to think about what she should do other than figuring out what to wear to bed. There was nobody for her to call, not familywise. Her father fell out with his family long before she came along, and her mom was an orphan. There was nobody to take her in when she needed to be held the most and she had to guess her eyes laid that fact bare because he knelt on the floor instantly and cupped her left cheek in his hand.

“Do you want me to go and get you something?” He asked, his eyes steady on hers.

“No, I just want…I just want…” And she had to stop because her throat was too tight as the world imploded in on her with painful, scarring reality tearing at every emotion at once. “Fuck! Lincoln!”

He quickly pulled her into his arms as sobs tore out of her chest, out of her heart, his powerful arms doing their best to hold the world at bay for her. “Hush, Chlo, hush baby.”

She didn’t even correct him when he called her Chlo instead of Chloe, she was in too much pain to do anything but seek solace from this terrible hurt that threatened to tear her apart. She pulled away, pushed blonde hair out of her face, swiped at the evidence of her tears with the sleeve of her sweatshirt, and looked up at him. “Make it stop, please. Make it stop.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking, Chlo. I can’t, I just can’t. Not right now.” He shook his head to emphasize his words, but his eyes pleaded with her. To be quiet or to prove him wrong?

She didn’t know, she didn’t care, she just wanted to not feel this awful killing pain that tore at every cell in her body. She decided for him when she leaned in to kiss him. He couldn’t say no, not when she held him to her with hands desperate to be filled with comfort, with arms that needed to hold and be held.

“Chlo...” He started to mutter against her lips, but she didn’t let him. She had no idea what she was doing, she’d never even kissed a boy and she was out of her mind with grief and shock, but she did know that Lincoln could give her what she needed. Only Lincoln could give her that and he was there. Like he’d been there her entire life, pulling at her hair, teasing her in a million different ways, turning up for her ballet recitals and hiding in the back where he thought she couldn’t see him.

He’d been there and he was here now, that’s what mattered.