Lincoln’s POV
I stare down at the red hair of the woman on my lap, no words coming to mind. I can’t think of anything to say to the shell of a woman I hold in my arms, what words might convince her that she’s going to be OK, that I’m going to protect her, from everything.
‘Do . . do you want us to leave?’ Abbey’s broken voice almost kills me and I instinctively grip her harder as though my body is scared that she’ll jump up and run.
‘What?’ I ask, blindsided by her sudden question.
‘Do you want us to leave?’ she asks again dully, ‘I can go upstairs, start packing now . . . I’d appreciate a lift to the bus station for Robyn and I but if it’s too much trouble, I can . .’
‘No’ I growl, more forcefully than I meant to be, but dammit! I don’t want her or Robyn to go.
Abbey looks up at me,
