15
LOGAN
A love hotel wasn’t the most convenient place to have a meeting, but it was the only option I was given. I steered clear of the bed, slowly turning around. The room was filled with mirrors, suitable for a couple who loved watching the reflection of their bodies intertwined. The gaudy decor aside, I saw the appeal of making love to Bloom in such a room. I would never miss a reaction to my touch. From every angle, I could study the contours of his beautiful body and the way we fit together.
Would he enjoy this room? I’d never thought of visiting a love hotel before, but Inconnu was a recent addition to Smoky Vale and was fast becoming an attraction to the curious and adventurous. No wonder Smoky Vale had attracted an influx of nonlocals recently.
A tap on the door startled me. The door opened, and the light from the hallway illuminated the figure who entered, closing the door behind him. Marshal Livingston was my handler, the man who’d handled my protection in WITSEC. Over a decade later and he didn’t look like he’d aged a bit. Same jet-black hair cropped close to his skull, same icy-blue eyes that scrutinized everything around him.
He strode toward me, the red lamplight of the room casting long shadows that danced around his feet. “Dr. Collier. Sorry about our current location. It’s not exactly appropriate, but it was the only place I could think of on such short notice that would guarantee us confidentiality.”
“I understand, Marshal. I’m grateful you agreed to see me.”
He walked over to a chair that had an opening in the seat. I could only imagine what it was used for. He gestured to the bed, but I shook my head.
“I’ll stand if it doesn’t bother you.”
“Can’t abide people looming over me. I’m assured they sanitize the rooms thoroughly, Dr. Collier. You won’t catch syphilis from sitting on the bed.”
As a doctor, I knew very well how people transmitted syphilis. I smiled and sat on the edge of the bed. After all, he’d made the long journey to see me after I’d been ignoring his calls.
“Now let’s get down to business,” Livingston said. “I’m relieved you called because I was starting to think you’d given up on the idea of living. Back at the office, I already have someone working on a new identity for—”
“Not so fast.” I held up a hand. “It’s not definite that I want a new identity.”
“I’m confused. What else could this meeting be about?”
“I’m not saying I won’t consider another identity, but—”
“Consider? Your family has been after your head for years. You don’t think that incident at the hospital has reached them? Do you have a death wish? In all my years of working with WITSEC, I’ve never lost an informant, and I’m not about to lose one now.”
I clenched my hands into fists. Informant. Even now, the word felt dirty, like I’d done something wrong when all I’d done was make a way for myself to leave a life I never wanted.
A life that gave you what you have. What do you think paid for your fancy education?
Pop’s words echoed in my head, and I swallowed. I wasn’t just a whistleblower. I was a disgrace to the Agosti family. Keegan Agosti was the name other crime families used to set their kids straight.
“There has been a slight change to the situation.”
“In what way?”
“I’m in a relationship with someone. I need to know to what extent WITSEC will also offer him protection.”
Livingston blinked, and his mouth stayed open for a second too long. He coughed into his fist. “Ah, well, we assess the level of threat, dependence and commitment, and their cooperation with our requirements. Excuse me, but I wasn’t aware you’d gotten married?”
“We’re not…married. Not yet. Is it a problem if we aren’t?”
“It depends. The program automatically offers protection to a spouse and children, but we would have to assess other situations. How long have you been together?”
I shifted on the bed, which was surprisingly comfortable. “Not long.”
“What do you consider not long? A year?”
“Two months.” A stretch of the truth.
“Two months?” He snapped his head up. “It is highly unlikely for protection to extend to someone who you’ve been together with for such a short time. That poses a great security risk, even if we provide you with a new identity. In this case, we would recommend cutting ties and—”
“Absolutely not.”
Not if I could help it. Leaving Bloom was the last resort. If I’d wanted to leave him, I would have done so while he was still in the hospital and incapable of coming after me.
“The WITSEC program is effective, Dr. Collier, because we have certain requirements we cannot budge on. Such a new relationship is not stable enough to justify the risks and resources involved in including your boyfriend. You know well enough that he will be required to sever all previous ties and adhere to strict secrecy. Introducing someone you’ve known only for two months into the program carries a tremendous risk of exposure. Need I remind you we’ve already had to establish a new identity for you twice since you’ve been in the program?”
But I couldn’t leave without Bloom. Livingston couldn’t understand how much Bloom meant to me. He measured the commitment in our relationship because of the time we’d been together, but for Bloom and me, it was measured by the extent we would go for each other.
“What if we get married?”
The frown he wore said he wasn’t happy with this decision. “I would caution you against making that decision, but yes, if you got married, we are obligated to protect him.”
I nodded. That was all I wanted to know. If I had to disappear, Bloom could come with me. He would have to leave the motorcycle club and all his brothers behind. But he would do it if I asked him. I was confident about that. But would he be happy, or would the sparkle in his eyes dim day by day?
“Pardon me for asking, Dr. Collier, but you wouldn’t be referring to that young man whose name has been attached to yours in the news, would you? Bloom, is it?”
I closed my eyes and swallowed. Just as I feared. He knew who Bloom was. People had made the connection between us. This meant those in New York probably had too.
“It is.” I opened my eyes and met his gaze head-on.
“Quite an impressive young man. I can see why you feel indebted to him—”
“This isn’t about debt. It’s about love. I care about him, and it would hurt him too much if I have to leave.”
“The relationship is two months old.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand, but the people who know us…they would.”
“Be that as it may, your time is running out.” He rose to his feet, patting his ass. The chair must have been uncomfortable. Hmm, it would probably be a good idea to get Bloom one of those chairs, since he liked me eating his ass so much.
“How much time do I have?”
“It’s less to do with WITSEC and more about how long before the Agostis make their move.”
Maybe they already have.
The man at the mall snapping pictures of us came to mind. Was he one of my father’s soldiers?
“I’ll get in touch soon.”
He walked to the door but paused with his hand on the doorknob. “Dr. Collier.” His normally stoic eyes held a flicker of what might have been concern. “Think carefully about your next steps. The choices you make now can determine everything. If you bring that young man into this program, there’s no turning back. Can they cope with the level of change, the uncertainty, and the danger? You’ve been through it, so you know this isn’t an easy road. Ask yourself, if you could go back, would you have made the same decisions that led to this moment?”
As the door closed behind him, I slumped back onto the bed with a sigh. My head throbbed. So many decisions to make. I couldn’t talk to Bloom about the program either. Not yet anyway. Not until I’d made a decision. Like Livingston had said, the secrecy was a vital part of my identity.
I plucked my phone from my pocket and dialed the one man I could think of. Even though I had his number, I’d never used it. Jamie had given it to me as an emergency contact for him.
“Hello.” The gruff voice on the other end of the line sounded annoyed.
“Grimm, it’s Logan.”
“Logan?”
“Dr. Collier. James’s mentor.”
“Ah, Dr. Collier. Is something wrong with Jamie? What’s going on at the clubhouse? They only sent for him because they said someone got hurt.”
“No, Jamie is fine. At least I think so. I’m not at the clubhouse, so I’m not sure what went down or who’s hurt. Look, I wanted to ask you for a big favor, and I know I’m not your most favorite person, but I really need the help.”
“Sure thing, Doc. As long as I can help. Jamie insists you’re good people.”
From his tone, he hadn’t decided yet if he agreed with Jamie.
“I’m looking for someone who knows how to falsify ID documents. To make it clear, I’m not looking for counterfeits but official documents with the information I have.”
“Sure, I know a guy. It’s gonna cost you, though, especially if you want a history with the ID, so it appears more legit. Wouldn’t want a forty-year-old with an ID and no credit history, right?” His tone was nonchalant as if I was asking him the best place to pick up a cup of coffee, not partake in activities that would be considered illegal.
“Exactly. How quickly can they do it?”
“How urgently do you want it?”
“Like yesterday?”
A pregnant pause crackled between us. “Is this gonna cause me problems with the Blood Hounds because you want to fuck off and leave a certain boy behind?”
“No! I… between you and me, I want to marry him, but he doesn’t have any official documents. I need a birth certificate, social security, the works.”
“Well, fuck me. I take it Crowe doesn’t know you’re planning to make a husband out of his little biker, does he?” Grimm’s gruff voice now held an element of amusement.
“Not yet, but we’ll tell him soon. So what do you say?”
“I’ll make the calls and arrange for everything. Can you send me details?”
“Sure. Can you take it over the phone now?”
“Hold on. Lemme get a pen.”
I filled in Grimm on the details. When I was done, Grimm laughed. “You got some balls giving him Crowe’s last name without asking permission.”
“Seems like the right thing to do.”
“If you say so. Interesting to see how all of this goes down. I’ll let you know the cost and arrange for you to send payment. My guy’s good, but he’ll need at least a week. You good on that?”
I wanted to ask for sooner, like tomorrow, but one week was already pushing it to create a whole life for someone.
“I can live with that.”
“All right. You’ll need a passport-size photo of Bloom too and his signature. He usually sends someone around to do it.”
“Sounds good. Thanks a lot, Grimm. I owe you one.”
“Don’t mention it. You looked out for Jamie at the hospital. Once that boy’s fine, life is good.”
What must it be like to have such a simple love story with no need for secrecy? I ended the call and sighed. I should get back to the clubhouse. Maybe Jamie could use some help.