One Step Forward

Chapter 10. Love Can Kill A Man

Linc's POV

We finished putting up the cameras by eleven in the morning. Bryant and I both knew how to do it, it was pretty simple. 

"I'm going to go talk to her first. I'll be right behind you," I said to Bryant. 

His response was a simple nod and he headed for his bike. 

Mya was very tense from the moment I told her the flowers weren't from me. God knows, I wished they were from me. I hated seeing her like this. She was petrified of her ex. I needed to know more about it. I wasn't even aware that she had problems with him. Of course, I should've known because the one time I did bring him up she snapped. She probably hated him more than she did me at one point. I never laid a hand on her, and she knew I never would for any reason. 

My hand shook slightly as I raised it to push her door open which was only cracked slightly—my nerves were wrecked from her fear and my own—the thought of her not being safe tore me apart. I wanted to stay with her and keep an eye on her at all times, but I had work to do. If I was ever going to take that president patch, I needed to earn it and have my head in the game. "Baby, I—" I stopped dead in the doorframe of her bedroom. 

Her back faced me. She stood in front of her dresser which had a big mirror on it. I could see her front and back. She had on pink short shorts and a black laced bra. She was holding a gray sweater in her hands. Her lips parted and she spun around to face me.

Did it really matter? I mean, it was the first time I had seen her shirtless since before the accident, but I had seen it all before. However, that didn't stop me from becoming breathless. My lungs suddenly felt like they were made of glass and I didn't know how to breathe. The way the bra hugged her breasts had me jealous. I wanted to hold her breasts. The perfect curves. That ass. Fuck me. God damn it, Linc, get it together. I mentally slapped myself out of it and forced myself to look away.

"I—" I frowned and looked down at the floor. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize—"

"Hey, it's fine. It's not like you haven't seen it all before," she said.

I glanced up at her. Suddenly I noticed several scars before she could finish putting on the gray off-the-shoulder sweater. I crossed the room in a few strides.

"What—" she began.

I lifted her sweater and examined some of the scars on her ribs, hips, and back.

"Linc. . ." she trailed off.

I swallowed hard. "Are those from the accident?"

"Um, a couple of them."

"Where'd the rest come from?" I asked, but I already knew the answer. I just couldn't stand the thought. My breathing came faster. My body temperature rose. I knew if she said the words, I would probably shoot through the roof out of anger.

"Linc, it doesn't matter. They're old. They don't even hurt."

"Tell me," I whispered. My eyes locked with hers. 

She took a step forward and smiled up at me, wrapping her arms around my waist. "Babe, it's okay—" she started.

"It was him," I said.

Her forehead creased with concern for me rather than herself. Go figure her to be so damn selfless. I hated it when she did that. "It's not worth getting angry about, okay? It's ancient history."

"Jesus Christ," I spat through clenched teeth. I pulled out of her grip and trudged over to the foot of her bed. I plopped down and buried my face in my hands.