The Help (Kings of Linwood Academy, #1)(54)

Raised voices come from near the warehouse entrance, and a second later, Lincoln, Dax, and Chase stalk over to join us.

“We lost the fucker,” Dax calls, and he sounds pissed. “He disappeared around the side of the building—probably had a car in another lot nearby.”

“He had a mask on,” Chase adds, and my blood chills in my veins.

“He what?” I croak as River helps me to my feet.

“Yeah.” He shakes his head, his copper hair glinting in the dim moonlight. “He was wearing some kind of mask. Not a ski mask though. More like a party mask, like a mask of someone else’s face.”

That doesn’t make me feel any better. River just got me upright, but my legs threaten to buckle as fear slams into me. He wraps an arm around my waist, securing me flush against him, and I know he can feel my body shaking. I don’t think I’m in shock like I was after seeing Iris get hit, but I am fucking terrified.

Someone attacked me.

Maybe even tried to kill me.

And I don’t know why.

Does whoever it is know what I saw? What I know? But then why didn’t he go after any of the guys? Or did he pick me first because I seemed like the easiest to pick off, the weakest target?

And I was.

Whoever was after me, I gave him the perfect opportunity to jump me, going to a practically abandoned warehouse in the middle of the night.

I don’t know how he found me, but once I went inside that building, all he had to do was wait.

Witnessing Iris’s murder was terrifying and traumatizing, but I guess a part of me always thought that was the end of it. That whoever had done it would vanish back into the ether like the ghost he appeared to be. I thought it was over.

But it’s not.

Another wave of dizziness washes over me, and I dig my fingers into River’s t-shirt, holding on tight. “I didn’t… I didn’t know.”

He squints at me in the darkness, leaning closer as he stares at my face. Then he nods, his jaw clenching. “I know. We should’ve told you.”

“He tried to—”

“I know.”

One of his arms still holds me securely to his body, but the other reaches up to brush my hair back before sweeping down the side of my face. His knuckles trail over my jawline, and the look on his face makes my heart beat painfully hard. His expression is tender and fierce at the same time, and that’s just what it feels like when he presses his lips to mine and kisses me.

Tender and fierce.

For the moment, it doesn’t seem to matter that a few days ago, he caught me having sex with one of his best friends. It doesn’t matter that he and the others neglected to tell me their entire surveillance of me was for my protection.

It just matters that I’m alive. That he came for me. That they all did.

My hands grasp at his broad shoulders as I kiss him back. It’s as different from kissing Lincoln as night and day, as a thunderstorm and soft summer rain. His lips are exploratory and gentle, and he kisses me like he’s drinking me in, trying to infuse himself with my essence.

His tongue darts out, meeting mine—but a half-second later, Lincoln grabs me by the waist and pulls me away.

“All right. That’s enough.” His voice is steely.

River’s gaze flicks to him, eyes narrowing as his friend speaks. Then he reaches out and gives my wrist a gentle tug, pulling me back toward him. As soon as I’m in his embrace once more, he kisses me again—and this time, although it’s still gentle, there’s nothing tentative about it. He threads his fingers through my hair and tilts my head slightly, allowing him to take the kiss so deep I feel like I’m drowning in it.

I can’t help but think he and Lincoln are working something out between them, communicating through their actions, negotiating for territory or something. River’s kiss, deep and consuming as it is, also seems to be sending a message to Linc that the tall, dark-haired boy doesn’t own me. That he doesn’t get to claim me for his own.

That’s a message I can definitely get behind, so I throw myself into kissing River back, letting the feel of his hands in my hair and his oakmoss scent sooth the fear and adrenaline still coursing through me.

One of the twins—Chase, I think—whistles as our lips finally break apart. River doesn’t release me though, keeping one arm wrapped around me and tucking me into his side as we turn to face the others.

Lincoln’s amber eyes gleam as he chuckles darkly. “All right, you fucker. I get it. Now can I take her home?”





22





Lincoln almost refuses to let me drive the Nissan back, insisting that I should ride with him. It’s only when I point out that it’ll raise suspicion if my mom’s car isn’t in the garage tomorrow morning that he agrees to let me drive separately from him.

He follows about an inch and a half behind my car, so close our bumpers are practically kissing, and when I stop at an ATM to deposit my winnings—my attacker didn’t even touch the money, which is terrifying in its own right—he gets out of his car and stands beside me like a surly bodyguard.

After I pull into the detached garage, he meets me by my car door, keeping a hand on my lower back as we walk quietly toward the dark house. I don’t know if he’s expecting someone to attack us on his family property or still just on edge in general, but I don’t fight the contact. As fucked up as things might be between us right now, it’s still a comfort to feel him by my side. My throat is still sore and raw, my bruised hip throbs, and my body aches all over. The scrapes on my palms sting, and if I think too hard about what happened tonight, it’s hard to breathe.