Kings of Linwood Academy - The Complete Box Set: A Dark High School Romance Series Callie Rose (i read a book TXT) 📖

from the bed and walk toward him, but before I reach him, he steps around me and starts pacing the room, agitation pulsing out from him in waves. I decide not to chase him around the room and instead take up his old position, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning against the door as I watch him.

“I should’ve told you sooner,” I admit. “But I didn’t want to say anything until I knew for sure, because I didn’t want you to freak out over nothing—if it is nothing.”

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, interlacing his fingers behind his head. He’s still moving, his feet tracking jagged paths across the floor. I don’t think he could stand still right now if he tried.

“I still don’t know. But I decided to tell you anyway. You promised me the truth, and I owe that to you too.” My hands curl into fists as the tension he’s radiating seeps into my bones. “And you told me yourself that your dad has a hard time keeping it in his pants. He’s gone after the maids before. Is it really that big of a stretch to think he’d go after Iris? That he’d hook up with your ex-girlfriend?”

Lincoln’s head whips toward me so fast it almost makes me jump. He alters course without breaking stride, heading straight for me instead of pacing across the room.

When he reaches me, his palms hit the door on either side of my head hard enough to rattle the wood in the frame. “She wasn’t my girlfriend.”

“Fine. Your not-girlfriend. Isn’t it possible your dad got her pregnant?”

He’s glaring at me, his face just a few inches from mine, and I can’t tell if the anger pouring off him is directed at me or not—hell, I’m not even sure if he knows.

The muscles along his jaw shift under the skin as he clenches his teeth, and his spicy scent drifts into my nostrils, too sweet and tempting to match the harsh energy of the boy standing before me right now. He moves even closer, his presence bearing down on me like a physical weight as his gaze catches mine.

“Pack a fucking bag, Low.”

My heart slips out from between my ribs and falls down to my feet.

What?

Is he kicking me out? Is he that fucking mad? Even when I was furious with him after my mom’s arrest, even when I threatened to leave then, he was adamant that I stay. He still wanted me in this house.

“Lincoln, I—”

“Bag.”

He steps back enough to give me room to slip past him, and I do. But I don’t move toward the closet where my suitcase is. My heart is cracking open, and I can’t fucking believe I did this.

That he’s doing this.

I put my hands on my hips, squaring my shoulders as I face him. “I should’ve told you before now. I should’ve told you the second I started piecing it together—I know that. But you asked me to believe that even if something you do makes no sense, I should trust that you’re doing it for me, to help me. Why can’t you trust me like that too? I was trying to—”

Before I can finish, Lincoln crosses toward me in three long strides. He catches my chin in his large hand, and although the burning, angry intensity still simmers in his amber eyes, there’s something else in them too.

“I do trust you. I’m taking you to River’s house.” His grip tightens slightly, and his lips curl back, the expression almost a snarl. “If any of what you suspect is true, I’m not having you under the same fucking roof as my dad.”

My heart lurches in my chest.

Oh.

Shit.

Relief floods me at the same time worry twists in my gut. Before I spoke my fears aloud to Linc, it was easier to convince myself I was just grasping at straws—that I was so desperate to find the man in the ski mask that I took an insane idea and ran with it. But seeing his response only makes me more certain I’m getting close to the truth.

“Lincoln,” I whisper, reaching up to grab his forearm, holding onto it like a lifeline. “I didn’t want to tell you because I wasn’t sure if you could be around him if you thought—”

“I can handle it.” His voice is strained. “I won’t let him know. Bag, Harlow.”

I nod, and when he releases his grip on me, I walk on unsteady legs to the closet and drag out my small suitcase. I pack in less than five minutes, grabbing clothes and toiletries indiscriminately and shoving them inside the bag. My mom’s phone is sitting on the nightstand—I’ve been keeping it on and charged just in case anyone tries to call her—and I grab that too.

Linc stands right where I left him, watching me. Although his face is impassive, he keeps running his hands through his hair, and I can feel his internal tempo rising.

Finally, I grab my backpack, toss my phone and charger inside it, and sling it over my shoulder. “Ready.”

He dips his head in a single nod, then picks up my suitcase and heads for the door.

Okay. So I guess this is happening right fucking now.

There’s no sign of Mr. or Mrs. Black upstairs, and their bedroom door is shut. I don’t know if they’re still in the dining room or not, because we take the west wing stairs down to the first level before heading out to Linc’s car.

He sticks my bag in the back, and then we slide inside. Before he starts the car, he tugs his phone out of his pocket and shoots off a quick text.

“River doesn’t drive to school. Dax and Chase usually give him a lift, so they’ll bring you too.”

“Okay.”

Jesus. I feel like I’m going into witness protection or something. Except I don’t have FBI agents watching over me. Just four boys who, as powerful as they are, have gotten in way over their heads just like I have.

That thought