Blackening the screen of my phone I tossed the device atop a short stack of textbooks. Since my car was still at Phil's shop I was dependent on either my parents or Harper to taxi me around. It was horrible. I felt like an overly reliant pre-teen all over again. The most recent text from my mom revolved around when I was going to be done babysitting. Unfortunately, it never easy to tell. Lincoln's schedule was sporadic at best. I was never a hundred percent sure when he was going to show up. That wasn't a good enough answer for my walking day-planner of a mother.

Her husband wasn't so ecstatic about the whole situation either. The only silver lining was the money we would be saving with the car. But even then my father was suspicious. In his words, 'Everyone always wanted something in return. Nothing ever came for free'. He was moments away from bringing the car elsewhere but after an hour long conversation with Phil he finally agreed.

However, he wasn't letting up on the police so easily.

My father was persistent, continuously advising them to review the high school surveillance footage over and over until evidence could be found. To his dissatisfaction he was told nothing could be done with the recording alone. There was zilch to go off of. All that could be taken from the little amount of evidence was that there were two individuals involved in the defacement of my car. From head to toe they were disguised in black and the two baseball bats used were nowhere to be found. In the eyes of the law, the delinquents could have been anyone.

Lincoln and I knew better than that.

The vendetta Silva had out for Lincoln was still burning hot. It resembled that of magma, oozing down the rock walls of a volcano and destroying anything in its path. Including me.

I was in the way and I was sure to get burnt.

The simple solution would be to tell the authorities about the night prior to the incident. My squabble with Silva would surely fill in a few blanks. But that involved throwing Lincoln under the bus and I wasn't about to do that. From my seat on the couch I watched as Sadie tended to her favourite teddy bear, applying bandaids to the tearing seams.

Outing Lincoln wasn't an option.

No longer feeling like working on my lab for chemistry I commenced packing up my papers. It was only four o'clock. I had been at Lincoln's for no more than an hour but I was just about done for today. I needed a break.

The clicking of the front door diverted my attention from the operation taking place in the middle of the family room. To my surprise Lincoln entered, a couple plastic bags in hand as he led open the door.

"Why are you home?"

Kicking the door closed behind him Lincoln responded. "Why, hello to you too."

"You know what I mean." I peered over the couch, my chin resting on my arm, "I thought you were meant to be working 'til late tonight?"

Lincoln was distracted for a moment, greeting his sister. "I took the day off." Gently he patted at Sadie's head when she pulled away to return to her bear.

"Oh." The new information registered slowly. If he took the day off there was no need for my attendance. Feeling like I was no longer needed I scanned around for my discarded phone. "I should text my mom then. You don't mind me sticking around for another ten minutes, right?"

"Where are you going?"

"Home?" I responded, confused to why he even had to ask. Rising from my position I checked beneath me. I always managed to misplace my cellphone. Even in the most needed situations.

As soon as I located what I was searching for it was removed from my grasp. "No, you're not."

"I'm not?" It took everything I had not to dive for my phone upon reflex.

"Nope." He reiterated, pocketing my phone. "You're staying for dinner."

Tilting my head in question I trailed after Lincoln. He settled in the kitchen. Placing the grocery bags down he began to take out the content.

"Did you do something wrong?" I couldn't help but ask. Why else would Lincoln Pierce be offering to cook for me?

An amused smile graced his features. "Why would you think that?"

"You're cooking for me? I didn't even know you could cook."

"I'll have you know I'm a great chef." Lincoln assured me busying himself with the groceries. "Besides, I promised I'd make things up to you."

Furrowing my brows I asked, "What do you possibly have to make up for?"

"The other day." A can of tomato paste appeared on the island counter followed by a pack of spaghetti.

I observed his face while he proceeded with the task at hand. "Lincoln you've done more than enough for me. That deal with Phil saved my family a whole lot, with both time and money. We wouldn't have been able to get a better deal anywhere else."

Lincoln shook his head, disagreeing. "I told you, that was just a friend helping out a friend. You would have done the same for me plus some. You do so much for me and I've gotten you into enough shit — with Silva on your back now too. Let me do this one thing for you." His voice was so gentle, his eyes pleading with me to agree. Even if I was planning on declining his offer there was no way I could possibly do that now.

"Okay."

The grateful smile warmed my insides. He was so happy, and I knew it was because he felt like he was finally doing right by me.

After organizing the rest of what he had bought Lincoln moved further into the kitchen.

"Do you need help with anything?" I offered as he crouched down to gather a pot.

"No." His muffled response could hardly be heard over the clanking. "Just sit and relax."

"Well, if you insist." Adhering to his instructions I plopped myself down on a seat at the island.

Lincoln busied himself, extracting pans, knives, and a cutting board from various compartments around the kitchen. Lincoln ran back and forth around the space, from stove to sink, trying to complete ten jobs at once. After witnessing him almost amputate his own fingers, twice, I spoke up.

"You sure you don't need any help?"

"Positive." He muttered, holding his eyes. Who knew all it took was a couple of onions to get the stone hearted Lincoln Pierce to tear up.

Out of curiosity I asked, "How often do you cook?"

"Like everyday."

"Excluding frozen and pre-made meals."

Forgetting about the devilish onions he started on mincing the garlic. His inexperience with the knife made it difficult. "Never."

Sliding down from the tall barstool I stepped up to the counter. It was a disaster. Splatters of tomato sauce littered the flat surface. Discarded onion peels and a dusting of spices lay along dirty utensils.

"Let me help you." I insisted, moving the large chunks of onion off his cutting board.

"This was suppose to be me doing something for you for once. You're always doing stuff for me. I thought I'd try and return the favour. I can't do that if you're always trying to help." Lincoln admitted causing me to smile.

Grabbing an extra knife and board to chop on I commenced the unfinished job. "Sometimes we can't all do things on our own." I said, "I'd rather we did things together anyways."

Lincoln remained silent by my side. The crunching of the onion was the only sound emitting from the kitchen. Eventually he gave in, chopping along with me. And I knew that deep down, even though Lincoln was so used to being independent, he appreciated the help.

"Were you planning on cooking the minced meat by itself first?" I wondered, peering into the tall pot set out on the stovetop.

"No... do you have to do that?"

Biting down on my lips I suppressed a giggle. "Yeah, kinda."

"Why can't we just toss it all together?"

"Do you want to get me sick?" One of my eyebrows rose in question.

"No," Lincoln clicked on the burner, "'cause then I'd have to probably make you soup or something and I can't even handle pasta."

Unable to hold it in any longer I let out a laugh. "Let's do this right then, shall we?"

An hour later and a plate of spaghetti each and everything was going fine.

"Sadie, you're getting more around your mouth than in it." Lincoln noted passing the preschooler a napkin. Clumsily Sadie slid it along her lips, missing the majority of the mess. Lincoln took the serviette back. Folding it he aided her in tidying up the splotches of sauce that dotted her chin and cheeks.

"Did you want another piece of garlic bread?" I offered Sadie as she swept away her plate.

Long strands of blonde hair flew when she shook her head in refusal. "No thank you. Can I go play now?"

"Bring your setting to the sink and you can go." Lincoln allowed, helping Sadie shift her chair back.

With great care Sadie brought her plastic plate and cup to the sink. Rising to her toes she set the items down only to dash through the kitchen threshold.

It was just Lincoln and I at the table now. We both proceeded to eat in a comfortable silence. I polished off my plate first, absentmindedly gnawing on a piece of store bought garlic bread while I waited.

"Why don't you go keep Sadie company while I clean up here?" Lincoln suggested, tidying up his plate.

"Let me help you clean up really quick and we can all do something before I leave. I helped create this disaster." I joked, referring to the messy kitchen.

"No, I've got it." Stubbornly Lincoln raised from his seat. Dishes in hand he approached the sink, turning on the tap. Not bothering to argue with him I mimicked his actions, grabbing the pot of noodles from the table.

With the two of us back to back I set the pot down on the island. Getting more and more familiar with the layout of the cooking area I set out in search for a spare container. I filtered through drawers and cupboards. I avoided asking Lincoln, knowing his response would be a request to banish me into the family room.

On the tips of my toes I reached for what I was seeking. Unfortunately for me the stacks of tupperware were perched on the very top shelf. All the members of Lincoln's family, besides Sadie it seemed, were descendants of a small breed of giant. Reaching anything from their top cupboards was next to impossible for a vertically challenged person such as myself. Having flashbacks of working in the daycare kitchen I prepared myself to hop onto the countertop.

Seconds away from hoisting myself up I was brought to a standstill when a firm hand travelled it's way across the bottom of my back. The unsuspected touch erased all thoughts from my mind. Staying uncharacteristically still I fought to shush the hammering of my heart. A solid chest pressed against my side. Warmth from the other body flooding through me. The jitteriness of my frame hinted at Lincoln's close proximity. For some unknown reason my body always clued in on his presence before my mind did.

With one hand still resting on me his other raised high above my head. With great ease he plucked a container from the shelf, bringing it down for me. As soon as the plastic met the countertop my body went cold. The spot where his palm met my back dropped in temperature once Lincoln moved away.

Pulling myself together I forced my legs to move. Determined to act unaffected I neared the leftovers. Lincoln scrubbed behind me while I worked to pack away what we didn't finish. I even took the time to set aside a portion for Amelia for when she returned from work.

Stacking everything in a neat corner until it cooled down to room temperature I picked up a stray dish cloth. I dried while Lincoln washed.

"I was meant to be treating you, remember?" Lincoln reminded me as I picked up a freshly washed glass.

"You did." I assured him. His eyes never left the task at hand.

Shaking his head he passed me the new cup. He knew I was going to take it from the drying-wrack either way. "You did more than half of it."

"That isn't true."

"It is."

Reverting my gaze back to the glass in my hand I responded. "It's alright. I think we make a pretty damn good team. We're good together."

Lincoln's eyes were definitively on me. His actions slowing to a stop. It was only then that I realized the meaning behind my words could easily be misconstrued. Trying to avoid any awkwardness I carried on rubbing at the dry bowl I was holding. I was prepared for us to fall back into a comfortable rhythm.

We didn't.

Lincoln dropped both the sponge and plate into the sudsy sink. The clanking his actions made caused me to jump, my eyes snapping up to Lincoln's intense gaze. He inched towards me, almost hypnotized.

"Lincoln?"

His fingertips rose, feathering over my skin before raking through knotted tresses. The trail of dampness cooled the hot surface of my reddened cheeks, his advancement leaving me still once more. His dark eyes darted around my face, landing on my parted lips. As if not to frighten me, Lincoln smoothed his hand over the waist band of my jeans, palm gluing itself to my hip. He stayed like that for a pregnant moment, giving me time to slip away.

I didn't.

I didn't want to move. Not when I had him staring at me like I was the only person left in existence. His actions were so steady, so thoughtful, so gentle.

And here I was forgetting how to breathe.

"We are good together."

I felt so small in his arms, so tiny in comparison to everything that was Lincoln Pierce. But being this close to him made me realize a hidden truth within myself that I didn't want to acknowledge. Every flaw, every scar, every mark from his past was visible from where I stood. And I adored every single one of them.

His fingers dared to raise up the side of my shirt, burning the exposed skin. Everything came so quickly. One second I was admiring the tuffs of hair that found their way down to Lincoln's forehead, the next his lips were connected with mine.

He started off slow, testing the waters, still giving me a chance to run. But when I latched onto the material of his t-shirt everything spun out of control. The soft caressing of his lips on mine intensified. His arms pulled me closer, inclosing me in a cage I never wanted to get out of. The hand that was once in my hair fell to the back of my neck.

He was in complete and total control.

His lips moved seamlessly among mine. His hands possessive and curious all at once. Our breath tangled between us, spreading heat throughout my being. I was dissolving under his touch. He was greedily taking me in. Being indulged by Lincoln was like nothing I'd ever experienced before. My legs were about ready to give out.

Sensing the loss of feeling Lincoln removed the firm hand from the back of my neck, hoisting me onto the counter. The playing field was even now, both of us level in height. Seeking adventure my hands slid from the thin fabric of his shirt, moving up his neck to his jaw. The passion between the two of us pouring out like a storm at the end of a drought.

I couldn't get enough of him.

The raw desire behind our lips died down. Like the smouldering embers leftover from a campfire. The heat still remained, simmering. Lincoln slowed the pace, relishing in my taste on his lips. His hands kneaded over my thighs and for a brief moment I had wished the material would disappear.

Our breath danced together, his lips releasing mine. I almost pouted at the disappearance but the ecstasy in my veins swallowed away the disappointment. Taking a moment to revel in the art of breathing I filled my burning lungs.

"Finally."

Lincoln slid his tongue over his bottom lip. His smirk had my heart jolting, remembering the feeling of his mouth on mine. "I didn't know that's what you were waiting for."

"I didn't either."

Silence enveloped us once more. Both of us just taking in what had just happened.

"Did you mean it?"

My eyes flashed up, landing on his. "Mean what?"

"What you said about us being good together?"

His palms still rested on me, distracting my thoughts. "Of course I did."

I observed as Lincoln's swollen lips separated again to speak. But whatever he was about to say never got the chance to come out.

What sounded like an explosion of glass shattering erupted from within the family room. I straightened my spine, sending my head flying into the shelving behind me. A high pitched shriek sounded and Lincoln's touch was gone all together. Forgetting my throbbing head I jumped down from my perch and chased after him.

I spotted the broken window before anything else. The glass shards glittered among the short hairs of the carpeted flooring. I stepped deeper into family room, stilling just past the threshold. A breeze from outside instantly chilled the room. Thankfully the temperature had been rising, but nights still dropped to an uncomfortable freeze.

"What happened?" Lincoln questioned the little girl in his arms. Her face hidden in the crook of his neck. The poor thing couldn't respond. Her small frame shaking due to overwhelming distress.

Sending a questioning look to Lincoln I stepped in the direction of the broken glass. Careful not to tread onto the shards I peered outside. No one was there. There was no trace of anything crashing into the window.

Besides a stone the size of my shoe in the middle of the living room.

While Lincoln patiently tended to his sister I picked up the stray object. Flipping the rough material around in my hands I found something you don't tend to see often on random rocks. My hand slid over the folded note that was taped to the bottom. Making eye contact with Lincoln I flashed him my finding. As he continued to rock Sadie his brows furrowed in confusion.

In one swift movement I ripped the paper from the weight. Disregarding the chunk of solid dirt onto the couch I unfolded the concealed piece of lined paper. In thick, bold lettering the message read:

'You're next, Bitch.'

Dread trickled down my spine. My eyes strayed from the page only to peer at Lincoln as he cared for his baby sister.

One question circulated throughout my mind. Was this for him, or for me?