Page 106 of Falling for Her

“No, don’t say anything, save your energy. The police are going to be here any minute, and they are going to want a statement.”

“Why?” I ask him, confused.

He doesn’t have a chance to tell me because there is a knock at the door, and the doctor comes in wearing green surgical scrubs. “Ms. Westbook, I’m Dr. Reeves.”

“Hi,” I say. Lincoln gets up but doesn’t move from beside me.

“How are we feeling?” the doctor asks me.

“Like I got run over by a truck. Front and back.” I try to raise two fingers as I smile weakly. “Twice.”

He chuckles at that, takes some vitals, and listens to my heart. “We had to put you in a medically induced coma. There was swelling in your brain.” I hear the words, but all I can do is look at Lincoln, who looks down. I see his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “We pulled you out of it twenty-four hours ago, but you took your time waking up.”

“Sorry. I’ll do better next time.”

“There isn’t going to be a next fucking time,” Lincoln growls, and the doctor raises his eyebrows.

“He’s used to being the boss,” I mumble and close my eyes. “His bark is bigger than his bite.”

“It’s, ‘Your bark is worse than your bite,’” he whispers from beside me. “Rest if you need to.” He kisses my lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Okay,” I reply, “just . . . rest my eyes.” I let sleep take me away.

The mumbling of voices wakes me. Two guys in suits are in the room, talking to Lincoln. “If she says stop and you don’t fucking stop⁠—”

“I think it’s safe to say I know how to do my job,” one guy says, putting his hands on his hips. There’s a badge on his belt.

I clear my throat and they all look over at me.

“Hey, baby.” Lincoln comes over to me. “These are Officers Cleary and Belvedere. They need to ask you a couple of questions.”

I nod my head. “Water,” I ask him, and he gets the same cup he got before, giving me a chance to take two sips.

“Ms. Westbook,” one of the officers says, “we’d like to ask you some questions about the incident that happened on the night of August 11, if you remember any of it.”

“I do.” I close my eyes and then open them again. “I went out for lunch with friends. I stopped at the grocery store on the way home to get things to make chocolate cake.” Lincoln smiles at me. His hand wraps around mine, and he brings my fingers to his lips. “I got home and was putting away groceries. And suddenly he was there, in my apartment. Davis.”

“He said you invited him over. That you went out with him willingly.”

“He would say that, wouldn’t he? I did not invite him. He broke in. And is grabbing me by my hair and knocking me unconscious considered going with him willingly?”

“The records at your building show he had the new code to your penthouse. You must have given it to him.”

“I didn’t. And how do you think I ended up here, like this?”

“He said you wanted to reconcile. That you were going out to dinner, but that you got into an argument. That you attacked him while he was driving, almost causing an accident, and then jumped out of the car while it was still moving and sustained severe injuries.”

“I have proof that he’s lying,” I counter. I fix my eyes on Lincoln. “I had cameras installed. Actually, I did it myself.” I smile softly. “I mean, YouTube also helped me. It records movement for ten minutes once it’s triggered and saves it on my phone. It should be there, and on my iPad, my laptop, and my desktop. You’ll see I did not go with him willingly.”

His eyebrows go up. “Well, according to the witnesses who had to pull him off of you⁠—”

“What?” I ask. “The last thing I remember is lying in the street and a car coming right at me. What happened?”

“The car was able to stop in time. Your husband got out and said you had just attacked him, tried to kill him.”

I hear a growl from beside me, and it’s me who tightens my hold on Lincoln’s hand.

The officer continues, “He hit your head into the pavement and then tried to kick you before someone was able to tackle him to the ground and get him off you. Once he got back up, he came back and tried to kick you.”