19
LOGAN
“ S till can’t believe our little Bloom’s getting married,” Crowe said, his tone full of wonder. “Before you came along, we thought he’d never even get a glimpse of what love was.”
Instead of responding, I swirled the whiskey in my glass, watching the amber liquid catch the light. I had barely touched my drink, while the others were several glasses in. Earlier, Crowe and I had clashed, but that tension had dissolved over dinner. The Thanksgiving feast Jamie had arranged was nothing short of perfection.
After dinner, Jamie had taken the younger guys back to the house, Bloom among them. Seeing Bloom go off with them gave me a strange sense of relief. He spent so much time with the bikers or with me, but I wanted him to have friends his own age, people he could talk to and who understood not to judge him for his peculiarities.
Nineteen.
Damn.
I was sleeping with a nineteen-year-old. Hell, I was about to marry him. It was too late now to have regrets. I couldn’t muster any anyway. Not after all Bloom and I had come to mean to each other. Not after all we’d been through together.
Was Marshal Livingston right, though? Was Bloom too young for me to drag him into a life on the run, always looking over our shoulders in case my family caught up with us? Crowe had given in and accepted me tonight, but would he be so understanding when he found out I was marrying Bloom to take him away with me? That they would never hear from him again once we left Smoky Vale under the guise of a honeymoon?
It wasn’t the life I wanted for him, but I didn’t have any other option. If I didn’t take Bloom with me, I couldn’t tell him the truth. And there was no way I could vanish on him, leaving him to feel abandoned and to face the cruelty of never knowing why.
If there was a solution in which everyone remained happy, I hadn’t found it. But I was still searching.
“Remember when he used to sleep on the floor, even though he had a bed?” Sarge asked. He had his chair tilted back on two legs and a can of beer in one hand.
“I remember when he didn’t know what to do with the toilet,” Saint said. “We found him drinking from it. Had to show him what a toilet was for.”
“He screamed bloody murder the first time I tried to get him to take a shower.” Crowe chuckled. “Now he doesn’t mind taking showers with another man, does he, Doc?”
“I think you might be making him uncomfortable.” Grimm took a drag from his fat cigar. He’d offered me one earlier, but I’d turned him down.
“No, I like hearing about his past,” I said. “He doesn’t talk about it enough.”
“He doesn’t remember most of it,” Crowe said. “Saint’s mother—she was his first psychiatrist—said it was his way of coping with the trauma. He didn’t say his first word for years after we found him.”
“Then we couldn’t get him to shut up.” Sarge shared a look with the other two men, and they burst out laughing. The other bikers had drifted away, not interested in hearing Bloom’s story. Gunner and Ben were making out like teenagers on the long sofa. A few others were playing card games or trying to drink each other under the table.
“Why’s that funny?” I asked.
“I guess because he was mute, we forgot he could hear.” Crowe’s grin turned into a fond smile. “Then one day, he started talking, and we couldn’t believe the filth that came out of that boy’s mouth.”
“Ah, so you’re the reason he cusses like a sailor.”
“Yup. God, we were fucking horrible parents. Weren’t we?”
“Hey, he didn’t turn out too bad,” Sarge said. “He bagged himself a doctor, didn’t he? I’d say the kid’s doing well for himself.”
“Did you ever try to get him into school?” I asked.
“Once. He got expelled the same day. He didn’t fit in and was still the violent boy we’d found in that shed.”
“What was that like?” I asked, my voice hoarse. I wanted to know everything about Bloom to be a better husband, friend, and lover to him.
“Still the worst fucking thing I’d ever seen in my life,” Crowe said.
“Agreed,” Saint said. “I remember it like it was just yesterday.”
“He was…he was like a wild animal,” Crowe said. “Feral. He was sitting there with the two dead bodies, still driving a knife through them without any expression. Attacked me when I reached out to him. He was so fucking hungry he swallowed a piece of my flesh when he bit me.”
Jesus. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked.
“Who would treat a child that way? Has he ever talked about what happened? How he…”
“Killed them? No. Never.”
“I see.”
“We think he relives it every November, which is why he gets so erratic around that time. This is one of his better years. We’ve had to have him sedated for most of November before because he got so violent we were afraid he would hurt himself and others. Last year was especially rough for him, but he seems to be getting better. I think the psychiatrist he’s been seeing has been helpful.”
“Dr. Simms? He doesn’t like going.”
“Doesn’t matter if he likes going, Doc. If it’s helping him, you should encourage him to keep going. He listens to you, so it’s your responsibility now to ensure you’re taking care of his mental health. He won’t always like what’s good for him.”
Crowe’s words lingered, heavy in the air. “That’s a fair point.”
I couldn’t help the twinge of guilt for not being more insistent that he continue his sessions with Dr. Simms. He used to go so religiously and then stopped after he got injured.
“For god’s sake, Gunner, don’t be fucking Ben on that couch,” Grimm growled. “I’m not cleaning up your spunk.”
Gunner laughed, hauling Ben off his lap and getting to his feet. “You don’t mind if we borrow your office, Grimm, do you?”
“Or you could just go the fuck home!”
“Too far. We can’t wait that long. I have a rogue cop to bend over and handcuff.” Ben’s face had turned crimson as he and Gunner tumbled from the room, lips locked and hands tangling in each other’s clothes.
Saint rose to his feet. “It’s getting late. I should get Jasper and drive him and the baby home.”
“You coming back to the clubhouse?” Crowe asked.
Saint scratched the back of his neck. “Depends if he needs me. Uh, you know, to help with the baby. Sometimes he’s up at all hours of the night, so Jasper’s sleep deprived.”
“And that’s your business because?”
“It just is.”
Sarge chuckled as Saint strode from the room. “I can stay all night ’cause I got no place to be.”
“Can’t say the same.” I put my glass down on the table. “It’s getting late, and I should take Bloom home. I’m trying to get him to rest as much as possible. Grimm, thanks for inviting us. It wasn’t as bad as I feared it would be.”
“Thank Jamie when you see him,” Grimm said. “It was all his idea. If it was left up to me, I wouldn’t go through all the trouble.”
“I’ll make sure to do that.” I stood up from the table and pushed my chair back. “Crowe, Sarge, night. I’ll see you around. Thanks for sharing about Bloom’s past. It helps me to understand him better.”
I left the men behind and huddled into myself as I walked toward Grimm and Jamie’s house a few meters away from the clubhouse. The temperature had dropped, and cold air bit at my cheeks. When I opened the door, a shadow on the porch moved.
“What the hell?” I took a step back.
“Sorry about that.” The young man stood, straightening his glasses. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Dr. Collier, is it?”
“Umm…yes.”
Joel smiled. “You’re really Keegan Agosti, aren’t you?”
I froze, the ground feeling like it had dropped away beneath me. The air turned razor-sharp, slicing through my composure, and for a second, I couldn’t think past the terror gripping my chest.
“How…” My voice came out as a croak, barely audible. I forced myself to swallow and try again. “How do you know that name?”
Joel’s mouth curled into a small smile as if he relished the moment. “Didn’t you hear what Bloom said earlier? I work for the Agostis—your father.”
“I don’t understand. How did this happen?”
“Would you believe it’s pure coincidence?” He folded his arms and ducked his cheeks into the raised collar of his jacket.
“Nothing about my father is a coincidence. Did he send you? What does he want?”
“Not much. He wants you to visit him.”
“You must be crazy. My father’s in prison because I sent him there.”
“He might not hold a grudge.”
“Then you don’t know the man you’re working for.”
“It would be in your best interest to visit him.”
“I’d be insane to do so.”
“So you’re going to run again? It’s too late. He has eyes all over the town watching you—and your pretty little fiancé.”
A surge of heat shot through me, fast and furious, as if a switch had flipped in the back of my mind. My breath came ragged, and my heartbeat roared in my ears, drowning out Joel’s smug expression and every careful word I’d planned to say. Before I fully registered what was happening, my hand was around his throat, fingers digging into the warm skin beneath his jaw. He was pressed against the porch railing, his eyes wide, and the faint hint of surprise in his gaze only fed my anger.
My voice came out low, almost unrecognizable. “Are you threatening me with Bloom?”
Joel opened his mouth, a gasp caught in his throat. He gripped my wrist, trying to pry my fingers loose, but I didn’t relent. All I felt was the tightness in my chest, the desperation to protect Bloom, to shield him from everything I’d run from, and the terrifying thought that this man—this stranger—held the power to shatter that. The pressure of his pulse throbbed under my fingers, his body tense and helpless in my grip.
“Let… go,” he choked. “I’m just the messenger.”
I gave a final squeeze, then released him. “Does Grimm know what kind of man he has for a son?”
Joel coughed and gently touched his throat. “You mean a defense attorney? My family is the reason I became one.”
“So you protect criminals.”
“Aren’t you about to marry one?”
His words stung, and for a moment, I couldn’t think of anything to say in retort. “You tell my father that if he hurts Bloom—if he comes near him—he won’t be the only one in prison. I’ll bring down the entire Agosti family.”
“Have you no loyalty to your family?”
“What the hell do you know?”
“Enough that I would never betray my biker family regardless of what they did. If anyone here finds out what you did, do you think you’d be welcome? Your father’s waiting to see you, and he wanted me to tell you that it’s a matter of life and death.”
An icy wave of dread washed over me. I clenched my hands into fists and moved closer until I was in his face. “I don’t know who the hell you are to think you can threaten me with my father’s name, but you’d do well to stay the hell out of my way. I owe your father, so I’ll walk away and pretend you didn’t—”
“Logan?” The front door opened, and Bloom walked out, frowning. His jaw clenched when he saw me with Joel. It would be so easy to set him off. To get him to kill the man threatening us. I took a step back. Bloom wasn’t a weapon to be used. He was the man I loved, and I could never use him that way.
“What’s going on here?” he asked. “Why are you two alone and whispering in the dark? Logan—”
“It’s nothing, sweetheart.” Bloom didn’t look convinced, so I went over to him and wrapped my arms around his waist, a protective gesture as much as an affectionate one. I felt like our time was ending, and I didn’t want it to.
“It didn’t seem like nothing.” His body was tense under my touch, and the anxiety radiated off him. “I saw you looking at him earlier and now this. Do you want to fuck him?”
“I swear I don’t.”
“I don’t know if I believe you.” His eyes were wide, and I felt the panic settling inside him.
“Baby, listen to me.” I took his face into my hands and pressed my forehead to me. “You’re the only one for me. Nobody else. Just you.”
Thankfully, Joel had the good sense to step inside. I didn’t know what to make of Grimm’s son, but I’d been right along. He wasn’t as simple as he portrayed. Neither was the reason he was in Smoky Vale.
“Logan.”
“Yes?”
“I don’t want to be here anymore. Can you take me home?”
He didn’t have to ask twice.