Bedwrecker(101)

Immune.

What had changed?

“Elle, it’s me, open up.” His voice was husky, commanding.

Relief washed through me. “Logan!” I rushed to the door and threw it open.

In a flash, he was inside. Tall, hard, and imposing, the more-than-competent man locked the door behind him. As soon as he did, his eyes moved over me like he wasn’t certain I was really standing here before him, alive, unharmed, in one piece.

With a determined step, I wanted to reassure him, so I pressed myself against him and stroked my fingers through his beautiful hair. It was rumpled and sticking up everywhere and still, he was breathtaking. “Did you find him?”

He let out a long sigh. “No, not yet.”

The words not yet made me shiver. I pushed my fingers through his hair again. “His picture is on TV. They said he hasn’t been picked up.”

Logan’s eyes closed as if in pain and then he leaned in and let his forehead rest against mine. “Get your things together. We have to go.”

Pausing, I breathed him in—my friend, my lover, the man I loved. I didn’t argue. I knew we had to leave. I just wished we didn’t have to. “Give me a minute.”

He nodded.

In the bathroom, my reflection confronted me. My hair was a mess. My eyes were red. My face blotchy. My clothes in disarray. Could Logan see that I was scared?

I hoped not.

With a deep breath, I shook off my own fear.

It was just a note.

It didn’t mean anything.

What really frightened me wasn’t what might happen to me, but what might happen to him.

I heard his voice. He was on the phone. “Fuck you. You said you’d get him, you reassured me that he, of all people, would be brought in.”

Silence.

“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do. I’m going to find him.”

Silence again.

“I can’t guarantee that.”

There was a crash, a thud.

Then silence.

More silence.

I waited to open the door.

He was going to go after Tommy, and there was nothing I could do to stop him.

I was scared. I was scared for him. Sure, he was competent, strong, capable, and dauntless even, but Tommy was a part of the Mob, and the Mob wasn’t just one person, not just one set of eyes, or hands, or legs, or barrels of guns ready to hunt him down—it was dozens, potentially hundreds.

When I finally opened the door, Logan was composed and dressed in the same clothes he’d arrived in only hours ago. But it seemed like a lifetime ago.

“Who were you talking to?” I asked.

He rolled the sleeves of his white shirt up to his elbows as he spoke. “Agent Blanchet of the DEA.”

Ironically, knowing he was working with the DEA helped soothe my nerves. “What did she say?”

He shrugged. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. They don’t know where Tommy is. Come on, we have to go.”

“Where are we going?”

He indicated I should walk toward him. “I’m going to take you to my father’s house. Right now it’s the safest place.”

“Isn’t he Patrick’s counsel?”

“Yeah, but Patrick has a half-dozen attorneys. My father isn’t one he’d use to get him out of jail. Besides, I can’t imagine he’ll even be given bail. He’s too much of a flight risk.”

My steps were slow. “And what about you?”

With an extended hand, he urged me to move faster. “I’m going to find Tommy.”

Hearing him say it again didn’t make the blow any easier. I stopped. “Logan, please don’t do this. The police are looking for him. Let them find him.”

His headshake was determined. “They’ll never find him. He might not be very bright, but he’s not stupid.”

My fingertips reached for him. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

There, I said it.

He took my hand and tugged me toward him. He didn’t say anything to me. Didn’t give me false hope. Instead, he kissed me like I was his world. I could feel him, I could taste him, I was him. His hands clutched my face tightly as his lips moved against mine. My hands rested on his chest but then moved up to wrap around his neck. I needed to be closer. He did too. He pulled me even tighter to him and started grabbing fistfuls of my hair. In that moment, he held me as if it were the last time we’d be like this. I wanted to fight for control with him, tell him not to kiss me like this, but our lips and our bodies were moving in such perfect sync, I couldn’t. It was as if our minds were branding this feeling into our souls and I didn’t want the moment to end until the full image was captured.

When he pulled back, I looked at him. I wanted to beg him to stay with me. Not to go out into the night alone. Yet, I knew there was no arguing with him. He was determined to protect me no matter the cost. Besides, he had already made up his mind, and the way he was staring at me told me what I already feared—if he didn’t succeed in finding and stopping Tommy, he was going to leave me in order to save me.