What will Lincoln Burns show me tonight?
I wonder.
With excitement burning through me, I grab the cargo and climb out of the car, stepping into the moonlight that rolls out like a bone-white carpet, leading to the answers I crave.
12
Engaged In Guessing （Lincoln）
I can抰 believe I let her in on this.
Hopefully, Wyatt doesn抰 rip my head off in the process.
The town car pulls up as I walk toward her, an added quickness in my step.
I don抰 want her alone in the dark here, even with Louis looking after her.
Most of the people aren抰 dangerous. They抳e been dealt a shit hand by life, but chaos always draws bad actors. Drugs and alcohol also run rampant here, creating a volatile environment where anything can happen in the blink of an eye.
As soon as the car stops, she steps out, balancing the medical supply box and the Sweeter Grind rolls. I move in, holding my arms out as I catch up.
揋ive me the heavier box,?I say.
揧ou抣l have to get it. If I try to toss it over, I抦 going to drop everything.?
Placing my hand under the large box on the bottom of her stack, I slide it out.
揝tay close,?I warn her, casting a wary glance through the dimly lit tents and squaring my shoulders.
揥hat if I don抰 want to??she whispers.
揇o it anyway. This isn抰 always the safest place.?
From the corner of my eye, she grins like the wicked little angel she is.
揗r. Burns, are you worried about me??
Damn her, I am.
I also hate to admit I抦 having second thoughts. I shouldn抰 have brought her. Part of me wants to stuff her back in the car with Louis and tell him to take her straight home.
What was I thinking? If it wasn抰 for that meeting across town梑ut even I need a little honest help sometimes.
揑抦 worried about getting smacked in the face with a lawsuit,?I lie, glowering at her.
She laughs like the spoiled brat she is.
揙kay. Whatever you say, bossman. I抣l try not to make you five million bucks poorer if I get stabbed.?
No fucking comment.
I lead her to Wyatt抯 tent. It抯 only a short distance, thankfully, and I move with her like I抦 back in the service. I only escorted VIPs a few times at an airfield, but I know enough to make an effective bodyguard.
Even when I抦 the dolt who put her in a place where she needs protecting.
I hear Wyatt before I抦 even at the mouth of his tent. A deep wheezing comes from inside, followed by a deep, rattling cough that almost sways the tattered canvas, and a gurgling sound that scares me.
Dakota stops when she hears it and meets my gaze, her eyes wide.
揢mm梚s he okay??
Fuck, I hope so.
I tap on the tent with my fingers, 搆nocking?the best I can.
揥yatt? You good in there??I call, pushing the front of the flap aside.
He doesn抰 even leave it zipped, assuming the zipper itself isn抰 broken.
A pale, rough face pops out before I get a good look inside. I jump back as Wyatt sticks his head out and spits.
Christ.
I hook my arm around Dakota抯 waist, tugging her back just in time to miss a thick loogie that lands near her feet. I hope being a Poe means she isn抰 grossed out easily.
My attention flicks back to my friend as he stumbles out of the tent a second later, trying to clear what sounds like wet cement in his chest.
揑抦 fine, Burns. Who you got here??His eyes peer through the darkness, trying to focus.
揂 friend,?I say generously. 揌er name抯 Dakota. She抯 a copywriter at the office and she抯 also filling in for my assistant while she抯 out on maternity leave.?I look at Dakota and motion to Wyatt. 揟his is Wyatt Emory. We served together years ago. We抮e war buddies, you might say.?
揌ell of a place to make friends,?Wyatt says, shaking his head with a lopsided smile. 揑 came out looking better than this guy, didn抰 I??
I抦 expecting pure awkwardness. All tension, unease, and subtle revulsion showing even if she抯 too nice to insult him.
Instead, Dakota laughs.
The same easy laugh I always hear when she抯 dealing with my shit梐t least the kind that doesn抰 leave her wanting to wrap her hands around my neck.
揧ou sure did! Bet you抮e a better runner, too. I can抰 imagine Lincoln jogging,?she says.
I fold my arms, hiding a smile.
Her words are so sincere I don抰 know whether to be touched at how empathetic she is or pissed that she implies I抦 in worse shape than Wyatt. I take off my jacket and drop to the ground beside him, spreading the jacket out for cover before I motion.
揇o you want to sit??I glance up at her.
Her puckered face says not really, but she wordlessly smooths out her dress and sits on my jacket, sweeping her long legs to the side.
As usual, they抮e a delicious torture for my eyes. Too bad I didn抰 come here to ogle this raven-stamped girl who drives me to the edge of madness.
揑 brought you something,?I tell Wyatt once she抯 settled.
揂w, fuck. Not necessary. I can feed myself,?Wyatt says with a coughing fit I hate at the end.
揘ot just the rolls. You抣l be happy when you see it, trust me.?I open the prosthetic box and pull out the contents.
For a second, he抯 speechless. Frozen. His eyes bulge like marbles, glinting in the faint light.
揧ou抮e shitting me, right? That抯 too damn expensive even for you, Lincoln. I could抳e got one from the VA anytime and waited,?he says coldly.
Easier said than done without a mailing address, I think bitterly.
This is what drives me up the fucking wall with Wyatt, his uncompromising pride. It抯 the best part of who he is and it also makes him his own worst enemy.
揟he VA can take up to a year. It抯 nothing,?I say sharply.
揃ull. I would抳e waited.?
揂 year is a long-ass time to wait for a leg, Wyatt,?I remind him. Especially when he抎 still have his real leg instead of this engineered metal if he hadn抰 gone and saved my sorry ass.
揌e makes like a gazillion bucks a day. He can afford an arm and a leg here and there,?Dakota says lightly, trying to be funny.
I give her a wry smile.
She抯 trying to help, dammit, but I wish she wouldn抰。 Wyatt抯 moods can be unpredictable, and if he gets pissed or unruly, he could chuck the prosthetic into Elliot Bay for all I know.
My worries are unfounded, though.
Because Wyatt chuckles loudly until he runs into another hacking fit that has him doubled over, choking up phlegm.
I suddenly regret bringing him the new leg because it doesn抰 go nearly far enough. He needs treatment, professional help beyond anything I can offer. At least a bottle of medicine and a chest X-ray for that nasty infection.
I抦 about to grab him when he straightens up, holding out a hand.
揝orry, ma抋m,?he tells Dakota before meeting my eyes. 揝he gives you hell. I like her already.?
揌ow do you know she gives me hell? You抳e barely met,?I say with a snort.
揑 can tell. Good pick, Burns. You need a chick who keeps you honest.?
揇on抰 go getting too attached,?I mutter under my breath, hoping she can抰 hear. 揝he just works for me. That抯 it.?
Wyatt gives me a knowing smile under his bushy beard.
揥hatever, my dude. I always had girls who just worked with me meet up at homeless parks after sunset, too.?
I shake my head fiercely, trying to form a response.
At least he抯 not truly on death抯 doorstep yet, however ugly that cough is. If the assholery in his sense of humor ever goes, then I抣l really worry.
揌e抯 not lying,?Dakota says. I almost wince knowing she heard us. 揘o good looks or bags of money could make up for his sterling personality, right? I抦 here because I was mandated…and because I want to be.?