Page 7 of Shadow Obsession

“Sounds like you have experience with that.”

“Eh. I’ll never tell on the grounds it may incriminate me.”

Lincoln snorted before he brought his fists up to do another round of punches.

“Linc.”

Lincoln sighed and halted, surprised to hear his real name.

“Have you thought about therapy?”

“I don’t need a shrink.”

“The five punching bags you’ve destroyed say otherwise.”

Defeat settled on Lincoln’s shoulders, so heavy he almost couldn’t lift his head. “I went to thank Parker after Chase came back, for helping to keep you alive, and he basically told me to fuck off. I mean, we went years without talking to one another, but this time it just feels different. It feels wrong.”

“Have you texted him?”

Lincoln shook his head. “He told me he didn’t want to hear from me until I tell him why I joined the Death Riders.”

“Your business is your business, but remember he is on your side.”

Lincoln nodded as he began to unwrap his knuckles. “Yeah, I know. Anyway, I’ll be ready to head out at seven.”

Thorn gave a pointed look at his legs. “Are you gonna be stable enough?”

“I’m fine.”

Thorn stood from the weight bench. “Fine?”

“Fine.”

“Say it enough and maybe you’ll believe it.”

Lincoln raised an eyebrow. “Are you a shrink now?”

“I do have a lot of words of wisdom,” Thorn said with a grin. “Plus, I’m also very Zen.”

Lincoln rolled his eyes. “I need a shower and protein shake. See you at seven.”

Thorn nodded. Lincoln exited the exercise room and headed into the clubhouse to wash up. Under the hot spray of the shower, memories assaulted him. In his head, there was a line that divided his life into before and after. When the demons that haunted him were too much, he spent hours pounding them away. He was afraid one day, though, they would be too strong to overcome, and that would be the day he ate a bullet. So far, he’d found some excuse to not pull the trigger.

Perhaps he was the biggest coward on the planet.

Chapter Four

Vivi lay on her bed and stared at the popcorn ceiling. Her favorite pastime was making shapes out of all the stippling. Oh, look, there was the Arch. And over there was the State of Nevada. A bunny. The Roadrunner. A map of the London Underground tube system. At least that’s what she thought it might be. Could be the digestive tract of a kangaroo. One would never know.

Three months had passed and she was no sooner to leaving the Heart of Darkness than the first moment she had arrived. Stir-crazy didn’t even begin to touch the surface of her emotions. There was only so much yoga a person could do, or so much Netflix to binge. Perhaps she should ask for some lined paper to start writing a book.

What would her book be about? A brainless motorcycle club that turned their prisoner into a psycho lady who went around chopping the penises off stupid fucking men. That could work.

Her only companion in the three months had been Cross. He came to visit several times a week, where he asked her to touch his arm and calm the anger coursing through his head. He never directly asked about her magical power, and she never volunteered to give an explanation. Besides, it wasn’t like she knew why she had it or where it came from, but auras had always been something she could see. In exchange for her glorious supernatural fingers, he let her outside every once in a while to soak up the sun. He allowed her downstairs on occasion to eat dinner with him. He even played pool with her, and she discovered she was pretty good at the game.

He didn’t allow any of his men to touch her.

Her thoughts drifted to her sister, Zaylah, who she knew was searching frantically for her. The few times they had talked on the phone, she had tried to give clues and she wondered how the hell Zay couldn’t figure it all out.

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