Page 5 of Dancing With Doubt

3

Lincoln

He’d let too much go by the wayside since Chloe came back into his life as Roxie. He’d been fascinated by the life she’d built for herself, had wanted to know every aspect of the life she’d chosen to live since she’d left him alone in a hotel all those years ago. He’d got caught up in her, in sex with her, in enjoying her, and he’d let the past fall away. Reality had taken a backseat, but it was time to stop that.

He got back into his car but sent a text without starting the engine. There was no need to start it when he’d just asked Roxie to meet him at her apartment.

He settled into the car to wait for her, putting the AC on to fight off some of the heat outside. It wasn’t as bad as it could be in Cambodia, but it was starting to get miserable in the car. He also knew there’d be hell to pay when Roxie did show up, if she did.

Springing June on her, well, leaving her to come face to face with June, hadn’t been his brightest idea or his most shining moment. He regretted doing it now, but he’d been thrown by his half-sister’s presence and had reacted badly. He’d wanted privacy down here, to be who he wanted to be while he investigated what was going on with Chloe/Roxie, but yet again, his family intruded.

That really pissed him off, but it wasn’t June’s fault. They’d all done the same thing to each other for years, and it was only now that he wanted his privacy that the way they all passed like ships in the night, docking in each other’s berths, made him resent the behavior. She wasn’t to know, because he hadn’t said anything to anybody.

His phone chirped and Lincoln grimaced because it was the tune he’d assigned to Roxie. How had she responded? He’d hoped she’d just show up here, smiling, and would forgive him for dropping his sister on her.

Fuck you, Lincoln. He saw her words through another grimace, one eye closed.

Fuck, she was pissed.

She had a right to be, but they had shit to deal with, like ending the relationship they had and getting it back to something he could handle. Or taking it to a different level that he could handle. A platonic level.

But even a text saying ‘fuck you’ made him think of her in ways that were definitely not platonic.

He didn’t respond to the text, he just waited to see if she showed up. When he saw her car, he got out of his own and headed across the street to meet her.

“Why am I here?” She asked as soon as she got out of the car. He noted the dress she had on, the heels, and suspected the black hose wasn’t hose, but stockings with a delightful little garter belt cinched around her waist. Oh, that outfit hurt, and it hurt a lot.

“Because we need to talk about a few things. Let’s go inside, shall we?” He directed but she stood her ground.

“Explain to me exactly why I should agree to let you into my apartment?” The keyring in her hand, heavily burdened with a rainbow of colored keys jangled in her hand as she crossed her arms over her breasts, her left eyebrow up.

Yep, she was still pissed.

“Because we’re two adults that have shit to talk about and the street isn’t the place to do it.” He answered and took her elbow to guide her up the stairs to her door. She allowed him to do that, but he could feel her gaze burning into his head from the side.

Super-pissed.

Damn.

“You planned this, didn’t you?” She said the moment she had the door open and had walked inside. She didn’t seem to notice that she had new furniture or that Wendy had made good on her promise to put everything back together. It was as neat and tidy as it had been before her ex took a hammer and knife to it all. And probably a screwdriver too.

“Planned what, Roxie?” He asked, thinking that she was accusing him of fixing her apartment. She was right, of course, he’d paid for the new furniture and everything Wendy needed to make repairs to the place. But why would she spit that at him?

“June, you giant asshole. Your sister! You set me up to meet with her.” Roxie walked over to the new couch made from a red velvety material, but then went back to the kitchen area to pace. “You knew I’d say no and decided you knew what was best for me, right? Because you always seem to think you know what’s best for me when I can guarantee you, you don’t, Lincoln.”

Her face was stony with anger, her eyes hard and cold with suppressed rage. Her cover was blown and he knew she was entitled to every bit of rage she felt, but it wasn’t his fault. Well, not really.

“Look, you really need to stop running from the truth, Roxie. There are things you don’t know.” He was about to tell her the things he’d learned today, but she barked out a harsh laugh and smirked at him.

“Right, things that I should know but you’ve only just now decided to tell me, am I right? Because, yet again, you fucking know better than me. Just fuck off, Lincoln. I’m tired of this.” She paced by him, pushing her hair up into a bun, and nearly screamed in frustration when she figured out she didn’t have a hair tie. She slapped at her thighs and went back to pacing. “What exactly were you trying to achieve, Lincoln, bringing June to your house? Did you think I’d drop down on my knees and forgive the long absence with a blow job because you brought my childhood BFF back into my life? Well, think again, buddy. All you’ve done is put June’s life in danger.”

“I didn’t bring her here, Roxie.” He answered softly, trying to think of something to say to refute her belief that June was in danger now. The fact that she was his sister should keep her safe from anyone, no matter what Roxie’s dad had been involved in.

“Yeah right. You just thought you’d push past the boundaries I insisted on in the contract, boundaries that are there for a good reason, and do as you pleased, because you’re Lincoln Fucking Young. Again, fuck you, Lincoln.” She didn’t stop pacing but the glare she threw at him should have set his shirt on fire.

He wasn’t going to say anything else, he’d decided, he’d just let her pace it out and wait until she calmed down, then he’d explain what had happened. Which was for the best considering she started right back up again.

“And I need to stop running? You have no idea what life has been like for me since that night. What about you, Lincoln? What are you running from? Because you’re running from something. Your own truth, I expect, considering the way you’ve ignored me since we got back from Cambodia. You can’t handle the fact that you care about me, so you ran. And that’s probably why you brought June down here, knowing it’d just piss me off and I’d end things. Well, good for you, Lincoln. You’ve won.”