“What?” I’m taken aback by his immediate annoyance.
“Stop looking at you like this?! Okay. So you think I can just shut off my feelings for you like you did to me? I don’t think so.” He takes a deep breath. “You can’t command me to stop loving you. Believe me, I would shut it off if I could.” He takes another deep breath, furious now. “I am stuck here, having to watch you day in and day out, being able to be near you but never touch you, doing all of this for you, and you just want me to get over us?!” He ends his rant with a look at me of pure torture.
Holy crap. How big of a jerk am I? He’s right. He’s totally right.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything tonight. I just hate still feeling like the thing breaking apart your brotherhood with Lyncoln. That was supposed to be in the past,” I say looking at my hands and playing with my heels in my hands. “And I didn’t just shut them off,” I add softly, “I made a decision. A decision I put off far too long because I didn’t want to hurt or lose you. And because I put it off for so long, here we all are in this mess.”
He sighs. “Reagan, I can’t just stop loving you when you want me to. I am sorry I was blatantly checking you out earlier. That was rude. But seriously, if you couldn’t look at Lyncoln some days, couldn’t talk to him, and then got one day a week to really see him and make sure he was okay, wouldn’t you do the same?” he reasons.
I sigh. “I definitely would.”
“Well then?” he asks.
“Well then, you are right. As usual,” I say, backing down, wishing I could rewind the clock these last few minutes.
He steps towards me and grabs one of my hands, giving it a squeeze. “I may still love you, Reagan, but I’m not going to do anything about it because I know you’re happy.” He stops to add, “If he ever hurts you though, I will kill him.” He shrugs, and I see the sadness cloud his eyes again. “And Lyncoln and I will be fine, but we’ll fix things on our own time, not yours.”
“You’re right,” I shake my head, trying my best not to cry. “I just wish I could take away your pain. Or your feelings for me. I don’t like hurting you. And here I am, doing it again, repeatedly, and demanding you to let me go. I want you to be happy. And I don’t want to shove our being happy down your throat either. I don’t want it to be awkward when you see us.”
He nods. “I know. I can’t be mad at you. I can’t not love you. I know, because I’m trying. I just have to try day by day to get over it. Give me time, please.”
I give him a hug, “Thank you.”
“For…?”
“For being you. For doing this for all of us. For loving me enough to let me be happy with Lyncoln.” My voice cracks, tears threatening to spill over.
“You’re welcome. Now go get your man before he comes in here and tries to kick my butt.” He laughs. “Who am I joking? There is no trying, he will kick my butt.” He smiles a real smile and seems his usual Henry self, no longer mad at me.
“And here I thought I would be the one making you feel better tonight,” I say frustrated with myself.
Why didn’t I just let him be? I was trying to protect Lyncoln and was feeling insecure about the letter I sent that made Lyncoln mad, and I hurt Henry’s feelings in the process of trying to do damage control.
“Just being with you guys is enough,” he gives me another smile and then gestures at the door, “Go on.”
The elevator ride with Lyncoln is dead silence. Sarge picks up on it and looks at me questioningly. I respond with only an eye roll. Lyncoln and I need to talk about this in private. He needs to trust me, yet apparently, he still doesn’t.
As the elevator doors open and we step out, Marisol comes flying down the hallway to get into the elevator. Her eyes are puffy as if she has been crying and she looks like a mess, barely containing the tears. Her blonde hairdo is disheveled, and she’s wearing sweatpants and a zip-up hoodie, of all things.
I immediately think of what Henry said about her dad being violent towards her. “Hey, are you okay?” I ask as she brushes past me.
She doesn’t respond, she just gets in the elevator and forcefully hits the button to close the door three or four times.
“Marisol. Are you okay?” I ask again worried. She always puts on this strong persona. I have never seen her like this. It’s more disturbing than when she’s being rude.
“Shut up, Scott,” she snaps. Normally she would say it with attitude and sass, but when she says it this time, she’s just sad.
The elevator doors close and she’s gone.
“Well that was odd,” Lyncoln announces to no one in particular.
Odd indeed. Does the ice queen have a heart after all? Those were real tears. Not fake ones, real ones. And Marisol in sweatpants? I never thought I’d see the day.
Back in my room, Lyncoln tries to tell me goodnight and quickly leave, but I don’t fall for it. I grab his arm and turn him back around, right there in the doorway area. We are standing close. Like if I had to take a quick, huge breath, our chests would be touching.
“Regs,” he whispers, closing his eyes a moment. “It’s fine.”
“Ask me. Ask me about the letter and what I just talked with Henry about,” I demand.
“Does it matter? You’re still wearing my ring. You’re still getting married to me. I don’t need to know.” He says the right words, but I can tell he is still jealous despite them. And I don’t blame him either. I would be jealous in his situation.
“Ask,” I demand.
He sighs and looks physically pained, but does as I ask, “What about the letter?”
“Well,” I say softly, “the letter just said that I was alright and that we both hadn’t forgotten about him. I wanted to give him a heads up so he didn’t come running when he heard Samson escaped.” I see his eyes look to me as if wondering if it was really as simple as that. “It was seriously only a paragraph long. And then, just now, I asked him to stop looking at me all longingly and let go so that your friendship can finally get back on track.”
His eyebrows furrow in confusion. “You said that?”
“Yes. I asked him to let go.” Like a total jerk.
“Why?” he asks confused. His shoulders relax a bit though, and he isn’t clenching his jaw quite so tight.
“Because I am done hurting you, and I didn’t tell you about the letter not because I felt guilty about it, but because we were busy and I actually completely forgot. I want to marry you. I would marry you tomorrow. And I know it messes with your protective impulses to see your best friend look at your fiancé like a piece of meat, especially when we have a history,” I explain.
“But look at yourself right now. How can I blame him?” His eyes go from affection to burning in an instant. He takes my cheek and more softly adds, “If you chose him, I don’t think I would have been capable of leaving you alone and it scares the hell out of me that’s how he feels too.”
“But he is trying. He really is. He cares about us both, you know,” I say as I run a hand over one of his glorious pecs.
He sighs and the anger seems to dissipate. “I know. I’m sorry about my snapping at him in there. There is just a lot going on this week.”
“I know,” I nod. “But we just might make it through the Culling results tomorrow, so I need you bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for your speech tomorrow,” I joke.
He gives me his signature half-smile. “How cheeky of you, Regs.”
“My cheeks are not currently the thing I am worried about,” I laugh blushing and shrug while gesturing at my dress.
“I had told Frank to make you look irresistible, but damn. I don’t even trust myself around you while you wear that thing,” he says as his eyes burn into my soul, making my body temperature rise. He gets even closer, so we are just barely touching. I feel my heart thundering in my chest.
“This,” he says throatily while slowly running a finger down my neck and across my collarbone, “is mine.” He says it possessively and confidently.
> “And you,” I say as I place one hand on his bulging neck muscles and the other on his peck. “Are mine.”
We kiss until I can’t stand on my own two legs anymore. At that point he waits for me to change and then tucks me in. Always the gentleman. A gentleman who I know is harboring a caged animal somewhere in there.
Chapter 18
I wake up feeling like crap even though it’s almost 0900 hours. I think I got maybe four hours of sleep after I finally fell asleep. And even then, I slept intermittently as I kept dreaming someone got hurt or worse, the whole team got captured by the drifters. Red Hawk is necessary but is really wearing on my nerves.
As if Gertie knew what she was walking into, she brings me hot tea when she comes to wake me.
“Feeling okay?” she asks.
“Just a little groggy,” I say honestly.
She smiles. “I don’t blame you, dear.” She knows something big is going on at DIA, but not all the specifics.
“What’s the plan today? What time do I need to be back from DIA?” I ask.
Lyncoln enters my room, without knocking, just as I am asking Gertie, interrupting us. “We aren’t going to DIA today. Taggert says today is just a waiting game, and we might as well be over here while we can be. Win or lose tonight, Sunday we will be over there all day along with the other couples,” he explains. He tucks his hands into his black gear pants front pockets, adding with a smile, “Your hair is cute, babe.”
I squint at him and reach up to fix it. I can only imagine what I look like right now.
“Don’t worry. Morning looks good on you, Regs,” he winks and smirks at me affectionately. His eyes trail along my body and I feel all of a sudden very self-conscious though my t-shirt and shorts cover more than what I was wearing last night.
“Will you leave me be so I can get dressed and brush my teeth, for crying out loud!” I scoff at him playfully, throwing a pillow his direction.
He easily catches it. “Actually, I’m beat and need a couple more hours of sleep. I just got off a call with Taggert and was hoping you were still sleeping, but since you aren’t, I was wondering if you wanted to go back to sleep and nap with me for the next two hours. As long as that is okay with Gertie and Frank.” He looks to her for approval.
She smiles, “Oh my good heavens, yes. You both look absolutely exhausted. We will have plenty of time to get you both ready if you will be here all day.” She moves to draw the curtains for us, making it darker, and says she will be back in two hours’ time.
We thank her as she goes.
“Well, this is a pleasant turn of events,” I yawn as Lyncoln takes off his boots and turns to get into the bed with me. As usual, he stays on top of the covers.
“Are you ever going to get in the sheets with me?” I joke with a yawn though I know he won’t.
He kisses me on the forehead. “Yes, but there’s not a chance I’ll behave if I do it now,” he whispers.
He looks at me full of affection as I curl up in his arms. I notice how tired he looks. He needs this. Oddly enough, I feel comforted by that as well. It takes maybe ten minutes before we both relax and drift off.
****
Four hours later, Gertie comes in waking us up. Lyncoln jolts out of bed looking at the clock and saying a curse word.
“It’s fine. There’s no news. Without disclosing a reason, at the two-hour mark I had Sarge call over to Taggert to make sure there was no news and you still weren’t needed,” Gertie says with a kind smile to Lyncoln.
“Oh. Okay. Thank you, Gertie,” Lyncoln says as he rolls his neck. I know he’s going to call over to Taggert anyway. It’s just how he is. It was thoughtful of Gertie to figure out a way to get him a few extra hours of sleep though. And without telling Taggert he was napping because I’m sure that would have gone over well.
“We slept for four hours?!” I say looking at the clock in surprise.
Lyncoln nods then smiles. “Apparently. It was the best sleep I’ve had for quite some time.”
Probably because I woke up to find I was on top of the covers and using him as my own personal pillow. I blush but nod my agreement, “Me too.”
“Butter bath time,” Gertie calls, giving us a moment as she heads into the bathroom to get everything ready.
“Are you going to go call in with Taggert?” I ask.
“Yeah. Shouldn’t be long,” he nods, putting his boots back on.
“Okay. I’ll see you later,” I smile nervously. Today is the day we find out if we made it to the final three or if we are going home.
He walks back over to me, gently lifting my chin to look him in the eyes. “We will be fine, Reagan.” This is one of the few times he uses my full name. “Please don’t stress about this vote. Whatever happens, we will make it work.”
I just nod as he leans in and kisses me on the lips. Good thing it wasn’t a full-blown make-out session because I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet!
Men.
****
Hours later, my hair is up and I am in a beautiful black gown, like the very first time Frank dressed me for the Canidatorial Ball. I can’t help but think… is this the last time? Is this the last time I will wear a gown like this? Is this the last time Frank will dress me?
This dress is the same color, but very different from that first one. Other than the bodice, it is all that flowy chiffon type material. There, of course, is a slit up the leg, but the best part of this dress is the bodice and the one strap. An intricate design of small jewels is the only color on the dress beginning underneath my breasts, between them, and then crawls up my neckline on the strap. Then the back is a sheer black with the same designs cascading down to my butt. So although my back is covered, you can still see it through the material. With my hair up, I think to show off the back of this dress, I wear some beautiful matching earrings and a bracelet. No necklace is needed for this dress. For other accessories, I do have a matching jeweled clutch and matte black heels.
Gertie and Frank are long gone and happy with their end result, I’m just sitting waiting for Lyncoln. He is already late, but I tell myself not to worry. As I repeat that mantra for the hundredth time, I hear my door open and close. I stand, ready to go.
Lyncoln stands at the doorway wearing a black on black suit again, which makes his blue-brown eyes stand out, especially the outer blue part. To say he looks good is an understatement, maybe even a mild insult.
“Wow,” he says impressed in looking me over, putting his hands in his pockets the way I secretly adore.
I’m grinning like an idiot. “Wow, yourself.”
“Sorry I’m late. I had to discuss something with Taggert,” he offers. I start to panic but he adds, “Nothing about Red Hawk, don’t worry, Regs. They are still just making their way to the watch camp.”
“Oh. Thank goodness,” I sigh with relief.
He comes forward and takes only my hand. He kisses my knuckles just above the ring he gave me, then my palm, and then puts my hand back down but keeps holding it. “Reagan Grace Scott, I love you with or without the Culling, you know that, don’t you?”
I nod. Good thing Frank used waterproof mascara.
“And if we have to move, we have to move. I won’t be mad. I honestly don’t think we have anything to worry about tonight, but I need you to understand that even if something goes wrong and we are out, nothing else matters. Not the Culling. Not my military rank. Nothing else matters to me like you do.” He sears me with the “I know you” look on steroids. It’s nothing but intense.
“Okay.” I nod and look to our hands, taking a deep breath and trying my darndest not to cry.
“Do you have your speech ready?” He squeezes my hand, causing me to look up and into his eyes.
“Nope,” I say honestly. I tried working on it earlier, but I was so mentally distracted with Red Hawk and these results that I wasn’t coming up with much.
He smiles knowingly. “Do you ever?”
“Nope.”
“We
ll you definitely look bright-eyed and bushy-tailed enough. Shall we?” he asks, holding his arm out.
I don’t take it. “We shall, but first you need to kiss me like you mean it, so I know everything is going to be okay.”
He looks at me surprised and grins. “Your wish is my command.”
****
The Culling couples are the last ones to arrive, the room already packed to the brim. Even more people are here than there was the night before. And that’s saying something. We can barely navigate the room without running into someone or throwing an elbow into someone’s back. I know there is fancy décor somewhere, but I can’t see it around all the bodies.
“How are you feeling about tonight?” Lyncoln’s mom Audrey asks me while giving me a hug.
“I’m not sure if it’s better or worse than last night when you asked me the same thing,” I say honestly and smile.
She smiles back, her matching eyes to Lyncoln’s twinkling in the light. I can’t help but think she doesn’t look a day over 35. “I am sure you will do just great.”
“Thank you.”
Lyncoln walks over to join us and gives her a kiss on the forehead. I am reminded that the reason he knows how to love me so well is because of her.
We mingle the next couple of hours. Lyncoln always makes sure to have his hands somewhere on me whether it is his usual hand on my hip, or moving his thumb back and forth on my lower back, or just holding my hand. His constant touch in addition to mingling with people helps the nerves.
The President even gives us a little pep talk in the way that only he can and that makes me feel even better. We can make this first cut, right? Elizabeth and Maverick and Attie and Knox keep telling us that as more couples leave, Lyncoln and I will get more and more votes and that splitting it four ways is actually hurting us right now. I want to be hopeful. I want to believe them. But I just can’t make myself mentally go there to “what ifs” and “happily ever afters” until it’s official.
The Fracturing: Book 2 (The Culling Series) Page 26
