Linc (A Cocky Cage Fighter Novel Book 3)

by Hart, Lane

  "The guy I roughed up this mornin’, James, he’s one of Vito’s men. You don't think-" My blood runs cold just thinkin’ about him hurtin’ her because of this mornin’. He wouldn’t, would he? Not unless he wants to die. “I should’ve followed her to her apartment.” Fuck. Now I don’t know if I need to head to her place or if I’m overreacting. At least Mace lives nearby. "You’ve been hangin’ out with Mace. Do you have his phone number?" I ask Senn.

  "Ah, no," he says as he opens the door on my refrigerator and digs around. “I doubt he would want to talk to ya anyway.”

  "Fuck!" I exclaim. “I need to see if he can go by Claire’s.”

  "Won't his number be on his Havoc paperwork?" Senn asks as he pops open a can of beer.

  "Yes! That's a great idea," I tell him before I call Jude's cell while I start to pace, too wound up to sit still. Jude's always at the gym; it's just a matter of whether or not he's still there this late workin’ out or near his phone.

  "Zelda, what's up?" Jude thankfully answers.

  "Please tell me you're at Havoc."

  "Yeah, I'm at Havoc. Getting ready to lock up and leave. Why?" he asks.

  "Good! Will you go look in Mason Reed's file and give me any phone numbers he listed and any emergency contacts."

  "Sure. Hold on.” I hear static on the phone and papers shufflin’ while I grab a pen and notepad from the kitchen drawer. “By the way, I fought with the kid in the cage today. He’s a tough sonofabitch and just might kick some serious ass one day."

  “Yeah,” I agree, growin’ more impatient. “You find any numbers?”

  "Okay. There's a cell phone and then he listed his closest relative as his sister, Claire Reed." Jude reads the numbers and I jot them down, even though Claire's is the same one I already have for her.

  "Thanks, Jude."

  "Everything okay?" he asks.

  "I hope so. I'll talk to you later," I say to end the call. I'm in a hurry to call Mace even if he is pissed at me.

  "Hello?" he answers right away.

  "Mace, it's Linc.”

  “What do you want?” he snarls.

  “Claire’s not answerin’ her phone,” I tell him, and he stays silent on the other line for so long I start to think we got disconnect or he hung up on me.

  “"Well, fuck,” Mace finally responds. “Mandy’s not, either. I've been trying to find her all damn day, and now Claire."

  "Where are you? Can you go to Claire's apartment and see if she's still there? She was supposed to go home, shower and head here."

  "Yeah, I'm already out so I'll swing by. You better call me back if you hear from her," he says, sounding worried.

  "I will," I assure him before endin’ the call.

  Fifteen minutes later, after I've paced indentions into the wood of the livin’ room floor, Mace calls back. "Neither Mandy or Claire are at the apartment. I went to the restaurant to see if she went back there but it’s closed. I don't know where the fuck they are but I’m getting a bad feeling after the shit you pulled today."

  Goddamn it! I barely refrain from crushin’ the fuckin’ phone in my fist. The only reason I don't is in case Claire finally calls.

  "Look, I'll text you my address. Put it in your phone's map and head this way," I tell Mace. "See if you come across her car broke down, or...fuck I don't know, God forbid, in a wreck. I'll go head out my way and see if she's on my side of town." The tight, panicky feelin’ in my chest keeps clawin’ its way up a little further each passin’ second we don't hear from her. It's almost impossible for me to take a breath.

  "Okay," Mace agrees. "But Claire would've called me or you if her car broke down or if she got into an accident."

  "I know." Unless she was too injured to use the phone. The thought makes me sick on my stomach.

  An agonizin’ hour later Mace is standin’ in my livin’ room with me and Senn, none of us knowin’ what the fuck to do now. There was no sign of Claire or Mandy's car from Durham to Cary, on any of the highways. Where the fuck is she?

  "This isn't like Claire," Mace says as he chews on his thumbnail. "Mandy, yeah, but not Claire. She's the responsible one. She's the one who bitches if Mandy and I go more than a day without checking in."

  "Have you got any of her friends' phone numbers?" I ask.

  "Called them all. Her best friend Kylie hasn't heard from her all day." The phone in Mace's hand suddenly starts ringin’, and I pray it’s Claire. "Unknown," he looks down and tells us, then quickly answers, "Hello?" He covers his ear with his free hand to hear better, even though the whole house is silent. My heart's not even beatin’ as I listen to find out who it is. "Say that again. Claire? Claire Reed? You-you're sure? H-how?" He sits down abruptly on the sofa behind him.

  Hearin’ him say her name, I go stand in front of him to try and hear what the fuck they're sayin’ on the other side of the phone. Seein’ the tough as fuck fighter's eyes water and his face goes slack jumpstarts my heart until its racin’ out of my chest.

  It's bad. I need to know how bad. The phone in his hand lowers from his ear as he just stares blankly at me.

  "What's goin’ on?" I ask him, but get no response from him. I reach and take the phone from him and he doesn't put up any resistance.

  "Can you say that again?" I ask the unknown person on the line and start pacin’ again.

  "I'm sorry, but that's all we know at this time," a woman's flustered voice says. "She's being continuously monitored in ICU, but her condition is still critical and we’re unable to keep her stable. The doctors are doing all they can, but...the quicker you can get here the better...in case we're unable to revive her the next time."

  Unable to revive her. The next time.

  The words echo around inside my head over and over and still I can't make sense of them. They've had to revive her already and her condition is critical? As in life-threatening?

  I reach for the livin’ room wall when my legs no longer seem to be able to hold my weight. Everything seems to be movin’ in slow motion. It's hard to hear over the roarin’ in my ears, but I need more information.

  "Where?" I ask.

  "Durham Regional."

  "We're on our way," I say even though my feet seem to be buried in cement.

  "Where are we going? I'll drive," Senn says.

  "Hospital. Regional," I mutter.

  "Hospital?" he repeats.

  Mace finally moves, shakin’ his head. "No. Claire wouldn't."

  "Wouldn't what? What the fuck happened? Did she have a wreck?" I ask him.

  He shakes his head again. "Overdose," he replies as tears race each other down both sides of his face. “Or attempted…attempted suicide.”

  "What!?!" I roar. "No fuckin’ way! Claire wouldn’t touch drugs. They don't know what the hell they're talkin’ about."

  "No. She...no. Fuck!” His words turn to sobs as his wide shoulders shake.

  "Come on," I tell him. “We need to go.” With a hand on his back I guide him out the front door and into Senn’s truck.

  All three of us are silent on the way to the hospital, except for Mace’s occasional sniffle. Poor guy. I’m a fuckin’ wreck so I can’t imagine how tough this is on him. Claire’s not only his sister, she’s been like a mom to him.

  My mind just can't wrap around the idea of Claire bein’ hurt or takin’ any pills. Not when I saw her a few hours earlier, happy and perfect...It doesn't make sense.

  Senn lets us out at the entrance and Mace and I quickly find the ICU department. We’re both about ready to break down the damned locked door, waitin’ for them to let us the fuck in the unit.

  Finally, a nurse comes out and gets us, leadin’ us to one of the curtained off rooms. The sound of beepin’ machines is loud, but I think my own poundin’ heart might be louder. It takes me a few moments to realize there's actually a person underneath all of the cords, tubes, and mountain of white sheets. Oh fuck.

  Seein’ the respirator over her mouth, knowin’ it may be the only thing keepin’ her alive cau
ses a burnin’ knife to sear right through the center of my heart. The pain is excruciatin’; like nothin’ I’ve ever felt. She's not even recognizable, so fragile and pale, with dark circles under her closed eyes.

  I hear Mace's sniffles, or maybe they’re my own, as his feet shuffle a few steps closer to the bed railing. He reaches over with a shakin’ hand and brushes the chestnut hair off of her face. The truth suddenly hits me at the same time he gasps.

  "Mandy."

  Chapter Seventeen

  Claire

  I wake up with a bright overhead light blinding me, and the faint sounds of people talking. Did I fall asleep in the living room with the TV on again? No. I'm not at home. I'm supposed to be at Linc's. It doesn't smell like his place. It smells...like cheap cologne. Like James. Ugh.

  My eyes fly open and I sit up, trying to figure out what the hell is going on. I'm in a bed in a small room, empty with white walls that don't quite reach the top of the ceiling. There's only one door that's closed, but I can hear several voices carrying on a conversation just on the other side. When I look down and see I'm still wearing my work uniform, it all comes back to me, leaving the restaurant, the cops pulling me over and suffocating me. I had fought with them until my oxygen ran out thanks to the nasty hand pinching my nose and covering my mouth. Now where the fuck am I? It looks like a fake bedroom, maybe on a movie set. Oh no!

  Am I at the VS Production’s studio? The place where Mandy makes her movies? I've never seen it except from the outside while dropping Mandy off a few times, but this has to be it. So what the hell am I doing here?

  The door suddenly opens and Vito Scarfone steps into the room, looking every bit the part of a mafia crime boss from his thick, dark, toupee like hair all the way down to his black pinstripe suit. All he's missing is a fedora.

  "Miss Reed, so glad you're awake," he says with a smug expression. Behind him is James, or at least I think it’s James. His face is so messed up, swollen and bruised that it’s hard to tell. The usual smirk on his face is gone. Instead, James looks really pissed, obviously because after I left Linc did a number on him. I was worried about leaving him there, and it looks like I was right. He went too far.

  "Ah, Mr. Scarfone. What's going on? What am I doing here?" I ask, turning my attention back to the man I know is in charge.

  "Nothing is going on. You were just getting a little rest before we discuss your future."

  "My future?"

  "Sure," he says, nodding like it’s obvious.

  "And-and then I can leave?" I ask hesitantly.

  "You can leave at any time," he says.

  "Really?"

  "Sure," he says again, trailing his fingers along the foot of the bed. "But in my world, we live by the motto an eye for an eye. Your boyfriend did some damage to one of mine, and now your sister has paid the price, since I wouldn’t dare damage our new gorgeous star.” Dread causes a shiver to rush down my spine. “Just as soon as you tell me we have an agreement, and that you will keep to it, you get to leave. But until then, well, you better hurry, because the doctor overseeing Mandy’s care could accidentally give her too much morphine, and that would be unfortunate given her already dire condition."

  "What-what'd you do to her? I want to see her." I throw my legs over the bed and head for the door. James's arm bands around my waist before I reach the opening, hauling me against his chest. He turns me back around to face Vito as my fingernails dig into the skin of his forearm.

  "I didn't do anything," the mafia boss says. "Your sister is a drug addict and mentally unstable, as everyone knows. She overdosed, but thankfully James was able to get her to the hospital just in time."

  Oh God. I stop fighting the hold on me when the asshole practically admits to almost killing my little sister. He still might.

  "Don't worry. I'm sure she'll make a full recovery just as soon as you and I can come to an agreement, and when I’m certain of your…continued cooperation."

  "What do you want?" I ask him. My throat burns from how hard I'm trying to keep from crying in front of these bastards. "More money?"

  "In a matter of speaking, yes," he says, straightening the lapels of his jacket.

  "Linc paid back everything Mandy owed, plus all the interest."

  "I know. We're talking about a much larger amount of money over a longer period of time."

  "What do we have to pay for Mandy to be okay?" I ask him point blank.

  "Nothing," he says with an evil, toothy smile. "Not a penny." I don't believe him. Money is all he cares about. "I'm just asking that you simply agree to star in a few movies as the new and improved Eve."

  "Movies?" I repeat, and quickly swallow the bile back down before I throw up.

  "Only say, maybe a dozen scenes?" he says with a shrug like it’s insignificant.

  "A dozen?" I exclaim to which he laughs.

  "We wouldn't record them all in the same day, darling. I'm talking just one a month for a year."

  I hang my head as the tears fall, trying to hide them behind my hair. "Why can't Mandy do them?" I ask.

  "She's done. A fucking disaster because of her addiction. Men want to see you, the new Eve from the video with Linc Abrams." He comes closer, his dress shoes tapping on the tile floor. When he’s right in front of me he reaches for my chin but I turn my head away. "A fresh, gorgeous face and curvy body they’re all desperate to fuck. And if they can't have you, the next best thing is to get to watch someone else having you. I bet your boyfriend won’t be too happy about that, but what’s more important, him or your sister?"

  I shake my head because there's no way I could do those types of videos with strange men...I just can't.

  "You'd receive a very generous payment, say ten thousand for each?"

  "No," I say. "Mandy will do it. Just let her get help. A few weeks in rehab and she can get better."

  He squeezes both sides of my jaw between his fingers until it's so painful I cry out. "That's not the answer I want to fucking hear. Maybe you need some more time to consider my more than generous offer. I just hope you don't take too long, for your sister's sake." Letting me go, he walks past us, out of the room. As soon as he's gone James pushes me down face first on the bed with his weight bearing down on top of me.

  "You're gonna fucking pay for the damage your boyfriend did to my face," he says against my ear. His arm that’s clutching my waist moves higher until he's squeezing my breast painfully. "And I’m gonna record it and send it to him." Since I'm still wearing my shoes, I try to kick him off of me with the heel of my boot while attempting to crawl away. "You little bitch. Don't you know the fight only makes it better?"

  "James!" Vito yells from the doorway, and the man on top of me goes still. "You don't lay a finger on her without my say so!" As soon as his weight is lifted off of me I quickly scramble to the head of the bed, as far away as possible. I'm still panting in relief but go cold when Vito looks at me when he says to James, "You'll get your chance if she doesn't come around soon."

  …

  Linc

  "Mace, I'm so damn sorry about Mandy and what's goin’ on with her, but where the fuck is Claire?" I quietly ask the frazzled man as we stand across from each other, lookin’ down at Mandy’s unmovin’ form in the hospital bed.

  His jaw ticks and he doesn’t look up at me when he holds the bedrail in a white knuckled grip. “This is all your fault.”

  “My fault?” I yell, and then remember to lower my voice. “How is it my fault your sister overdosed?”

  He closes his eyes and hangs his head sadly, makin’ me feel even worse. “Sorry,” I say. “I’m being an ass, but I’m just really worried about Claire.”

  “Yeah, I know,” he says, and finally looks up at somethin’ behind me. “Fuck,” he grumbles. “We need to go.”

  “Go?” I say in surprise, since we just got here a few minutes ago.

  “Yes. Now,” he says. “This way,” he says noddin’ to the exit next to the nurses’ station.

  “Okay,” I
agree, and follow him. After we slip out the door into the mostly empty hallway, Mace breaks out into a jog.

  “Hurry,” he says as he looks over his shoulder and runs for the stairwell. When I look back I see two men followin’ us. They look shady even though they’re wearing suits. At first I can’t put my finger on it as I face forward and go after Mace, leaping two steps at a time down the steps. “What the fuck is going on?” I ask him over the stair rail, since he’s an entire floor below me goin’ to the basement level.

  “We need to get out of here…call Senn…find out where…truck’s at,” he says between pants, right before the stairwell door above us comes open from the second floor where we just left. “Those guys…Vito’s men… and they’re packing heat.”

  Fuck. I pull my phone out and hit Senn’s contact as I try not to break my neck runnin’ down the stairs. When I get to the bottom I slip out the first exit, which I assume Mace also took.

  “Where are you guys?” Senn answers.

  “On the way out,” I say quickly. “Please tell me you’re still in the parkin’ lot.”

  “Nope, I’m in the lobby but heading that way now.”

  “Where’s your truck?” I ask. “Do you have the keys?”

  “Ah, yeah, and it’s in the next to last row on the far left. Why?” he asks.

  “Parkin’ lot and on the left,” I whisper-yell to Mace when I catch up to him ducked down in some shrubbery on the side of hospital. I can’t believe this shit is really happenin’, whatever the fuck is goin’ on. “We’re sort of in a hurry to leave,” I say into the phone to Senn. “I’ll explain later…just get your ass out here…literally make a run for it.”

  Mace and I take off for the front parkin’ lot, searchin’ out Senn’s yellow Ford F150. It of course stands out like a fuckin’ spotlight in the darkness. Great. Why couldn’t he have picked out a nice, dark, black one?

  “Fuck. Holy shit.”

  I hear curses bein’ muttered from behind me and turn to see Senn runnin’ to catch up.

  “Is this some…new part…of training?” he asks. “Are those dudes chasing us?”

  I look over my shoulder and… goddamn it. Honestly, I thought Mace was full of shit, but now I know he was serious. They really are following us at a fast clip. But why?