5
LOGAN
A full second passed, my question hanging in the air. Sven always exhibited antagonistic behavior toward Bloom, but maybe there was more.
“God, no.” Sven took a step back, but not even the vehemence in his tone could dispel the heavy lead in my stomach.
“I think you do,” I said. “And you should know, you can’t have him. He’s mine.”
“First of all, he’s not yours. You can’t own a person.”
I shoved my hands into the pockets of my pants. “Yes, you can.”
Amateur. Bloom would instantly agree with me.
“No, you can’t,” he insisted. “And I don’t like him that way. I just think he’s…cool, you know. It must be freeing to not give a damn what anyone thinks about you and to just follow the voices in your head.”
“Sometimes those voices can be dangerous.”
“Yet you’re still with him. He must be pretty special to land someone like you.”
“Yes, he is.” Silence settled between us, uncomfortable yet thoughtful. “You should be nicer to him,” I said.
“To Bloom?”
“Yes. If you…like him platonically. He doesn’t have too many friends. I think it’d be good for him.”
He’d never made friends on his own. The bikers basically adopted him, and then he met the boys through the Reapers. He never really had a normal life. He deserved that, even if he would have been upset about the turn in our conversation.
The blaring siren from the approaching patrol car prevented Sven from answering. The flashing lights created a disjointed spectacle of red and blue on the cracked pavement. He stood up straighter, clasping and unclasping his hands nervously.
The patrol car came to a screeching halt. Two officers got out of the vehicle and stalked toward us.
“Hi, I’m Officer Roberts,” the cop, with his hair pulled back in a bun, said. “This is my partner, Officer Martinez. One of you called 9-1-1 just now?”
“That’d be me, Officer,” Sven said.
“Okay, why don’t you start from the top and tell me what happened?”
We explained the situation to them. Officer Roberts praised Sven for his quick thinking to record the crime, even if it was dark. Sven, tongue-tied, blushed and stuttered through his softly conveyed “thank you. I watch a lot of CSI: Miami .” The officer smiled, which only made the nurse’s blush deepen.
“That’s my number.” The officer handed him a card as if he was the one with the stolen car, not me. “If you remember anything, you can call me.”
“I will call you. I mean—if I remember anything useful.”
I didn’t bother to mention that since the cop had the video, they didn’t need to stay in touch. Clearly, Sven was smitten with Officer Roberts. I couldn’t blame him. The cop was young, midtwenties, and good looking. His man bun held a certain charm.
The cops left us, and Sven volunteered to drop me off at my place. When we buckled into his Prius, he carefully placed the card in the glove compartment.
“Nice to see you using my predicament to pick up a hot cop.”
He giggled. “Oh gosh, was I so obvious?”
“As obvious as a bright red stop sign.”
“Oh well, I’m not getting any younger. Have to snag them when I can, but I’m really sorry your stuff got stolen.”
“It’s fine. I’m sure they’ll find them.”
I directed Sven to my house, but otherwise, we drove in silence. After the horrible night, I wanted to put my feet up and relax, have a glass of wine and perhaps a soak in the tub.
The group of people camped out in front of my gate put that plan to rest fast. Sven stopped a few feet away from a shiny black-and-red Harley.
“Wow, you having a party?” he asked.
“I don’t think so.” But his observation was valid. Several motorcycles lined the street side. Men dressed in leather and younger guys in revealing outfits lounged around on the pavement, their chatter and laughter ringing into the night.
Heads swung in our direction.
“Damn, I can’t believe your life has gotten way more interesting than mine,” he muttered.
I chuckled. “That’s not necessarily a good thing. Thanks for everything tonight, Sven.”
“No, thank you for getting me that really hot cop’s number, Dr. Collier.”
“Call me Logan.”
I’d always been formal with my colleagues but after tonight, it was no longer necessary between us. Besides we were no longer co-workers.
James detangled himself from a group of boys and hurried toward the car, dressed in a pleated red-and-white skirt and a top. His knee-high socks and trainers completed the look of a cheerleader.
“Drive home safely.” I got out of the car and gave a tiny wave as Sven drove away. He honked his horn and sped off into the night.
“Dr. Collier, was that Sven?” James asked. “What was he doing taking you home?”
“You answered your own question.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I think a better question is, what the hell is all this?”
He grinned. “Now don’t be mad, but today Bloom and I got around to thinking.”
I groaned. “About what?”
“He thought something was wrong with you today, so he asked me to check up on you.”
“And you thought that meant throwing a party at my house?”
“Come on, Dr. Collier. We’re all here already. All the boys came to show you support for being one of us now.”
I glanced back to where five other young men around the same age as James stood. They were dressed similarly, and the bikers hanging around them seemed to lap it all up.
I couldn’t be any more different.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure we can find a skirt that fits you and some heels in your size.”
I scowled at a grinning James. “Over my dead body.”
“Loosen up. I’m joking. We won’t be long, I promise. We just want to cheer you up a little. Having Bloom in the hospital so shortly after you became an item must be pretty rough, so what do you say? Can we keep you company for an hour or two?”
Saying no wasn’t an option, and he knew it. These bikers were Bloom’s family and by extension mine. “Fine. But you’re liable if they break anything.”
“You’re on.” He ran over to his friends to tell them they could go in. I punched in the code, and the gates swung open, revealing a meticulously cared-for lawn. I managed a smile and motioned them in. Their gesture was actually sweet, and it would be a distraction from all I’d lost tonight.
They entered the house, gasping and whispering about how beautiful my home was.
“No wonder Bloom picked him,” the freckle-faced, redhead boy said. “He’s loaded.”
I leaned close and whispered to him, “I should hope it’s more than just that.”
Raising my head, I found myself face-to-face with a huge biker wearing an enforcer patch on his cut. He frowned at my contact with the redhead in front of me. As though sensing his displeasure, the redhead hurried toward the biker, who slung his arm around the boy, the light catching the matching rings on their third fingers.
“That’s Cass.” James sidled up to me. “He’s Mort’s husband. That’s Mort, who was glaring at you right now. He’s quite protective of Cass, who can be a bit na?ve. Right there to the left, walking between those two men, is Fable. Zak’s to the left, and Booker’s to the right. They’re a throuple. You already know Grimm and Crowe. Rubble isn’t here, but that’s Miles, his boyfriend. And Max is, of course, Crowe’s.”
Thank god I wasn’t bad with names, or I would have forgotten who was who. “All right, everyone, make yourselves at home,” I said loudly. “Whatever’s in the fridge or cupboards…just help yourselves. I need to take a quick shower. I’ll be down in a few.”
“Don’t take too long, or I’ll be forced to come find you.” James winked at me.
“Jamie,” Grimm admonished, and I nodded my thanks to him. Someone needed to know when to put a leash on that boy.
Taking a shower gave me a moment to gather myself and come to terms with the people milling around in my home. By the time I got dressed and headed downstairs, I felt better about the impromptu visit. I had expected a certain level of rowdiness, but they were cordial and respectful of my space, a huge contrast to their cut-throat, rough-edged exterior.
In the living room, the men had taken their seats on the sofas, with their boys conveniently perched in their laps, leaving the armchair for me. Miles and James walked out of the kitchen, carrying bowls of chips, dip, and beer. There wasn’t enough for everyone, so the boys opened a bottle of wine. An expensive one, but I didn’t mind.
Their presence was surprisingly comforting.
Someone took out a deck of cards and started a poker game on the coffee table. I watched at first but was roped in to join when Grimm left to pick up the pizzas the boys had ordered. The game was lighthearted, full of ribaldry and teasing remarks. They never wasted an opportunity to roast each other good-naturedly, and I chuckled at the jokes, forgetting for a moment who these men were and what they signified. At that moment, they were just good company.
Grimm returned with the food and set the boxes on the granite countertop. The smell of pepperoni, sausage, and mushrooms filled the room, and the poker game was soon forgotten.
“I guess I should assume host duties.” One of the younger guys decided to help me. “Miles, right?” I asked.
“Yes.” He had a kind smile that reached his eyes behind the frames of his glasses. “And I don’t mind helping. In fact, serving others is kind of my thing.”
From the tint in his cheeks, his comment seemed loaded, but I didn’t dwell on it. We got the pizzas doled out to everyone. They’d even gotten me a veggie, which was thoughtful. Jamie had probably told them I was a vegetarian.
“I guess this means everyone has accepted you now.” Crowe entered the kitchen, where I was stacking the empty pizza boxes for disposal.
“Is that what this means?”
Crowe sat on a stool at the island. “We need to talk.”
I froze. “About?”
“Bloom coming home. What are you planning to do?”
My mind went blank. What did he expect me to do? “Excuse me?”
“You are throwing him a welcome home party, aren’t you?”
I scratched the back of my neck. “Honestly, I hadn’t thought about it.”
He clenched his jaw. “You hadn’t thought about it?”
“I’ve got a lot on my mind ensuring he’s all right and getting the best care at the hospital. A party is the last thing Bloom needs when he should be resting.” I dropped my shoulders, allowing the tension to ease from them. Did Crowe think he was better at taking care of Bloom than me? “But we can have a small gathering to welcome him home. It might be better for you to handle it back at the clubhouse.”
“Why not have it here? It’s much quieter…nicer, and it’s…” Crowe crouched forward, gripping the counter. “What exactly are you saying?”
“That it might be better for Bloom to recuperate at the clubhouse.”
“You’re breaking up with him?” His voice raised an octave, his sharp gaze pinning me to the spot.
“No, but…it’s just best right now.” To keep him out of reach if my family found me. I couldn’t let him get hurt again because of me. Bloom might hate me, but at least he would be safe.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Crowe pushed away from the island, the stool scraping against the tiled floor. “He nearly died to protect you, and you think it’s best to kick him out of your home? Didn’t I tell you to stay the fuck away from him? Why didn’t you? This is going to crush him.”
“He’s more resilient than he looks. Just trust me that this is best for him—and it’s temporary.”
Until I was dead or—what was the alternative? Was there an alternative to my family not killing me when they found me?
“Do you think that makes it better?”
“This is going to sound contrary, but I genuinely care for Bloom. If this weren’t important, I wouldn’t have proposed the idea. It’s just for a short time so he can get better.”
Crowe paced in front of the island, his brow furrowed. He jerked to a stop. “You’re hiding something.”
I swallowed a gulp. “Aren’t we all?”
“Does Bloom know this secret?”
“It’s nobody’s business.”
“It became my business when you decided to fuck my virgin ward, knowing how unstable he is. Does he at least know he’ll be coming back to the clubhouse?”
“No, not yet.”
I felt like shit admitting it. Bloom should have been the first person I told, but he wouldn’t receive the news well. He would likely throw a tantrum, but what could I do? There were forces at play greater than any of us, and the worst part was that Bloom had been caught up in it all, even though he was innocent.
“Is it someone else?” Crowe fired at me. “Are you married?”
“God, no. There’s nobody else.”
He didn’t look like he believed me. His eyes flickered with a turbulence of emotions. “You better tell Bloom, or he’ll hear it from me. Don’t mistake the way he feels about you and the sacrifice he was willing to make for your life to mean he’ll forgive anything you do. It only means the betrayal is worse and he will make you pay dearly for it. And I will watch without a word.”
Seconds ticked by as we stared at each other, the silence following his speech ominous.
“Hey, what are you two doing in here alone?” James entered the kitchen, glancing from me to Crowe. He hadn’t come alone. Crowe’s boyfriend was with him.
“What happened?” Max asked Crowe. “You have your angry face on.”
“It’s nothing.” Crowe placed a hand on Max’s shoulder. “But we should go.”
“But we just got here!” James said.
“I have to leave early in the morning to visit with Winter,” Crowe said.
“It’s true,” Max said. “We didn’t plan to stick around for long, but this was fun. Maybe we can come over again for Bloom’s welcome home party.”
“He didn’t think to plan one.” Crowe’s tone was biting. He turned on his heels and strode out of the kitchen. Max had to run to catch up with him.
“What the hell was that?” James gesticulated wildly. “Everything was going so well. Did you do something to upset Crowe?”
I shrugged and rubbed my temple. “Maybe it’s best for everyone to go, James. I do appreciate you bringing everyone, though. I didn’t realize how empty the house felt without Bloom.”
“Dr. Collier—”
“I think you should call me Logan.” If Sven could, then why not James as well?
“Okay, then you must call me Jamie. James always makes me feel old and stuffy.”
“All right, then. Jamie it is.”
“Good, but we’re straying from the topic. You don’t want to make Crowe mad, Logan. He and Bloom are close—”
“Too damn close,” I muttered, intending it for my ears only, but Jamie’s eyes grew wide.
“You’re jealous of their relationship? You must know there’s nothing between them.”
“I know that.”
“Then what is going on?”
I shook my head. “Can you just get everyone out?”
I winced at the sharpness of my tone, the ungratefulness, but this was best. I’d known all along not to form friendships, or any relationships, for that matter. Two people had died when I first made that mistake.
Never again.