Page 12 of Dancing With Guilt

When Lincoln came home, she’d thought she’d never be apart from him for this long again. Even her bones ached, she missed him so much, but part of her was starting to get angry too. After what they’d all been through, how the fuck could he just leave her alone like that? What the fuck was going on?

6

Lincoln

Lincoln walked into the house to find it silent and still. The only noise was the slight hum of electrical appliances doing what they were supposed to do. He’d been gone for a week, stunned at what he’d discovered about Roxie while he was on that trip. It took him a while to let it all sink in, especially the fact that it was Nathan who’d told him about the whole situation in the first place.

He’d driven home with a seething, burning anger that made his knuckles white on the steering wheel. There was no good way to approach the subject, no way to make the truth disappear. She’d hidden one very huge secret from him and right now, that secret had broken him completely.

Part of him wanted her to be gone, to put off questioning her for a little while longer. But the other part of him wanted to get it over with so he could start to put this all behind him and get on with his life. That would be hard to do, knowing what he knew now, but he’d have to find a way.

A deep sigh was hidden by the sound of his footsteps as he walked up the staircase to empty his suitcase out. Instead, he pulled the case up onto the bed and unzipped it to pull out a file. Inside were written reports, documents, and photographs. Lincoln didn’t open the file, he just picked it up once he’d changed into black lounge pants and a black t-shirt and went downstairs to wait for Roxie to come.

Roxie had some explaining to do.

Scratch that, she had a shit-ton of explaining to do.

He walked down the stairs with feet and legs that were tired, but he didn’t want to have this faceoff with her in the bedroom. He wanted it in neutral territory.

Which was the main reason he hadn’t called or messaged her. He wanted to see her face when he revealed what he knew now to be true. He wanted to see her expression so he’d know if she tried to lie.

Fuck, this was a huge mess and he didn’t want any of it to be true, but it was. There was nothing he could do to change the fact that he knew this reality now, so he had to face facts. And make her admit the fucking truth.

Minutes passed, then a half-hour. Lincoln angrily got up from the couch and poured a measure of scotch before he went back to the couch to wait some more. Where the hell was she?

He knew from his PAs that she’d asked about him every day, even if she had stopped calling and texting him when it finally dawned on her that he wasn’t answering. Maybe she’d left the house and gone back to her apartment, especially now that Nathan was in police custody and wouldn’t be getting bail.

But then, there were still the people that were after Nathan to worry about. Kai had kept tabs on her while Lincoln was gone, to ensure her safety, but he hadn’t said she’d gone back to her apartment. Maybe she’d gone back to that motel?

If she’d done that, surely Kai would have said?

Frustrated, Lincoln refilled the glass before he walked upstairs to check the closets. If she’d left, she’d have taken her clothes with her, and some of the other stuff she’d brought over. The scotch rolled smoothly down his throat, soothing the anger for a moment while he walked into the bedroom they’d shared for a while now.

The closet still had her clothes in it, and the bathroom cabinet still contained makeup, hair products, and straighteners. She was just out then.

He hated himself for the surge of relief that flooded through tense muscles because he should be angry that she was still living here, not the other way around. He couldn’t stop the sensation, even though he tried. He’d spent months falling for her, years even. Maybe he’d never quite got over the crush he’d had for her when they were both teenagers. Even though they’d hated each other.

Well, on his part, the hate was to disguise what he shouldn’t feel. She’d been June’s best friend, younger than him and still in high school when he was going through the college education June’s dad had paid for. She was totally off-limits, even that one night they’d spent together. She’d needed him then, desperately, and he’d needed to comfort her. Sex was the only thing she’d wanted from him, so he’d given it to her.

Now the past was coming back to haunt them both in a way he’d never considered. Impatient, his heel tapping on the floor, Lincoln opened the file and looked at the stream of smiling faces in the pictures nestled inside. Some were new, some were old, all were printed from pictures found on social media.

Fuck, when was she coming home? He reached for his phone, thinking he’d just send her a message, but pulled his hand away. No, he only wanted face-to-face contact with her and he’d sit here all night if he had to.

He flipped to another section of the file; this one containing documents that had been secured for him by the private investigator. The documents shouldn’t be in his possession, but that’s what he’d paid the man a small fortune for. Proof.

With a grim frown, Lincoln started to spread out the documents, then the pictures, so that they made a nice little display. He glanced at Roxie’s real name on several of the documents, remembering the girl he’d known as Chloe for the first time in a long time. She’d been so sweet, innocent, and very naïve. This wasn’t entirely her fault, but what she’d done was still unforgivable.

Wasn’t it?

A rattle of keys at the door made Lincoln turn his head and he stood up, the grim frown back in place. His heart twisted when he saw the way she smiled at him, her blue eyes shining in delight. He wasn’t sure if it was hatred or dread of the pain he was about to cause her. It could be both, but he wasn’t going to examine it long enough to make a decision.

“You’re back,” she said as she dropped the grocery bags in her hand and rushed towards him. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

Lincoln didn’t say anything, he just stepped back and stared down at her. Even in heels, she was still short enough that he could look down at her. And she had to look up at him. Only the face that had been filled with delight a few seconds ago was filled with confusion now.

“What’s wrong, Lincoln?” Roxie asked, blinking up at him with hurt dimming the shine in her eyes.

“We have to talk,” he replied, holding his hand out to the coffee table where he’d spread out all the documents. “We have to talk about this.”