Page 61 of Wicked Fury

Jeremiah’s panting too, hair mussed and eyes blazing with the same protective fury that’s coursing through me.

“Alright,” I say, once the ringing in my ears subsides. “Let’s figure this out. Together.”

“Damn right,” Jeremiah agrees, the anger dissipating as quickly as it ignited. “But next time, try knocking.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” I quip, cracking a half-smile, feeling the familiar tug of family stitching us back together.

Chapter 25

Iris

“Come on, angel.” Lincoln’s voice is a low rumble in my ear, the kind of sound that usually sends shivers down my spine. Not today, though. Today I’m immune. Or at least, I pretend to be. When Lincoln is nice, he has an ulterior motive, and I’m not in the mood for it. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

There it is. The real Lincoln Blackwood.

I roll my eyes, leaning against the hallway wall just outside of his room as he towers over me, all broody with a smirk that says he knows exactly how this will end. “You’re benched, Lincoln. Why would I go watch a game you’re not even playing in?”

“Because,” he leans in closer, lips barely brushing the shell of my ear, his hot breath fanning my neck, “I want to watch my brothers play and I want you there, too. With me.” His hand finds mine, thumb tracing the delicate lines of my wrist before circling around to hold me in place.

“Yesterday you were blaming me for all sorts of shit I didn’t do and—” I start, but Lincoln cuts me off by moving his hand up my sternum to wrap around my throat. It’s a gentle squeeze to quiet me, but there’s no malice there.

“I know it wasn’t you,” he says, his jaw flexing like he’s grinding his back molars. “I think it’s whoever broke into your room. Which is reason number one, among many, that I’m not leaving you alone while I go to the game.”

There’s a flicker in those brown eyes, something deeper than the usual arrogance as he flexes his fingers around my neck. An ulterior motive? Possibly. But he’s not spilling, and I’m not psychic. He looks so sincere, like he actually wants me with him. “Okay,” I relent, more because his touch is sparking fires along my skin than any real desire to watch college boys toss a pigskin back and forth.

The stands are a racket of excited noise, the air thick with the scent of cheap beer and cheaper cologne. Axe body spray if I had to take a wild guess. It’s a sensory overload, but Lincoln’s presence is grounding. His arm brushes mine, casual yet deliberate, as he guides us through the crowd. His hand hangs at his side, his fingers brushing mine and if I didn’t know better, I’d think my bully of a stepbrother wants to hold my hand.

“Watch your step,” he murmurs as we navigate the bleachers. A protective bubble seems to form around us, which is Lincoln’s doing, no doubt. People just move out of his way, gawking at him like he’s some sort of trash TV celebrity. Am I on the wish version of The Challenge? Lincoln positions himself to my side, subtly blocking jostling elbows and rowdy fans. The heat from his body is a constant reminder that I’m not alone and I hate that I crave that from him. He’s supposed to be the person who makes me the most uncomfortable, but it’s the exact opposite.

“Thanks,” I say, as we take our seats, but my voice is drowned out by a drum line’s beat. It’s hard to stay feisty when someone’s making you feel…safe. Cared for, even. Damn him.

“Anytime, angel,” he replies, his gaze holding mine for a moment too long before it snaps to the field. There’s a tension in his jaw, a focused edge to his stare that tells me he’s scanning for threats, not watching the game. There’s something in his tone and the way the nickname that was supposed to be spiteful rolls off his tongue like he’s praising me.

I can’t help but wonder what it means—that protectiveness. It’s genuine, I’m almost certain. I may not have known Lincoln for long, but he’s let me inside his head through these twisted little games he plays with me.

I know him, and this isn’t some ploy.

“Remember to breathe, angel,” he chuckles, as if he senses my internal turmoil. I’d have to ask the whole football team to pummel me if Lincoln ever gained access to the thoughts popping in and out of my head when he’s near.

“Breathing is overrated,” I grumble, but deep down, his presence is the only thing keeping my panic at bay. The thing about Lincoln is that he makes me feel like the most protected person in this entire arena.

A familiar, booming voice cuts through the noise, shattering our bubble of security. “Iris Marie Shelby!”

That tone, dripping with authority and disapproval—only one man owns it. My father. My head snaps around, and there he is, barreling toward us like a linebacker on a mission. Beside him, Lincoln’s mother, her expression a forced smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Shit,” escapes under my breath before I can stop it. Lincoln tenses; his hand finds the small of my back, a silent mark of solidarity. But it’s too late. I’ve been too preoccupied with Lincoln that I haven’t been placating my father and hiding all of the things about me that will make him irate.

“Your dorm room is empty; you’ve been skipping classes. Is this the reason you’re becoming a fuck up?” Dad gestures toward Lincoln and then before I see it happening, he’s got a grip of steel on my arm, pulling me up out of my seat on the bleachers as if I’m still a child caught misbehaving.

“Ow, Dad, let go!” I try to yank free, but his fingers are like clamps, each word he spits a mark against my self-esteem.

Lincoln is up, shadowing me and he doesn’t have to say a word to get my father to let me go. I feel Lincoln’s warm fingers soothing over the spot where my father grabbed me, and my stomach drops because I can sense how calm he is.

Angry calm is not a good thing when it comes to any of the Blackwood brothers.

Dad doesn’t realize this because he starts in on me, “Unbelievable. You used to be so driven, so focused. And now look at you, fraternizing with…” His eyes sweep disdainfully over Lincoln, and I can feel the weight of judgments unspoken.

Keep going. You’re digging your own grave.

---