Chapter Thirteen
Logan
I pushed open my apartment door and flicked on the lights, illuminating the familiar space. Akira followed me inside, then I shut and locked the door.
“Welcome to my place,” I said. “It isn’t much, but it’s home.”
Akira’s dark eyes scanned the room, taking in the navy couch, glass coffee table, and flat screen TV. “It’s nice, Logan. Really cozy.”
I punched in the code to set the alarm, the beeping filling the quiet. “There. All secure. No one can get in here tonight without us knowing.”
“Thank you for letting me stay over.”
“Of course. It’s no trouble at all.” I motioned down the hallway. “Guest room is the first door on the left. Bathroom is right across. My room’s at the end of the hall if you need anything.”
She stepped closer, rising up on her toes to press a featherlight kiss to my lips. My heart stuttered in my chest at the sweet contact.
“I thought I’d grab a quick shower, if that’s all right. It’s been a long day.”
“Sure, towels are under the sink. Take your time.”
With another smile, she disappeared into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind her. I heard the water turn on as I headed for my bedroom, stripping off my clothes. The day’s grime and sweat clung to my skin. Akira’s idea sounded great right about now. I started the shower and rinsed off before pulling on a clean T-shirt and sweatpants.
Akira hadn’t come out of the bathroom yet, so I grabbed my phone and swiped open the food delivery app.
“Pizza sound good?” I called to Akira over the noise of the running shower.
“Sounds perfect!” she called back. “Hawaiian, please!”
I chuckled to myself as I tapped in our order -- a small Hawaiian for her and large pepperoni for me. Then I tossed in an order of breadsticks. That girl sure loved pineapple on her pizza. The first time she’d ordered it I’d given her shit about it. But she looked so damn happy eating it, I didn’t care how weird I found it. I’d buy her as many as she wanted.
As the app confirmed the order would arrive in thirty minutes, I settled onto the couch and exhaled a deep breath. Having Akira here, safe under my roof and protection, eased some of the fear gnawing at my gut. But now I had another problem… I was a little too aware of the fact the woman I loved would be staying the night at my apartment.
The pizza arrived just as Akira emerged from the bathroom, tendrils of steam following in her wake. I had a feeling all the hot water was gone, but that was fine. She was wearing one of my old T-shirts, the hem falling to her mid-thigh. When the hell had she gotten that? Not that I minded her wearing it -- the opposite in fact. The sight of her in my clothes sent a possessive thrill through me.
“Smells amazing,” she said, padding over to the couch. “I’m starving.”
I served up the pizza onto plates and we dug in, the silence broken only by appreciative mumbles around mouthfuls of gooey cheese and savory toppings. Akira polished off four slices before leaning back with a contented sigh.
“Want to watch a movie?” I asked, wiping my hands on a napkin. “Your pick.”
Her eyes lit up as she reached for the remote. “I’m always down for some explosions and car chases.”
She scrolled through the options before settling on the latest action flick. As the opening scene flashed on screen, Akira nestled into my side, her head resting on my shoulder. I draped an arm around her, relishing her closeness. I loved having her here with me.
But as the movie played, my mind drifted to the crisis looming over us. The vague texts, Scarlet’s warning, the ominous feeling that Akira was in real danger… It all swirled inside my head, knotting my stomach.
I glanced down at Akira, but her even breathing told me she had fallen asleep. Dark lashes fanned over her cheeks, her lips parted slightly. With utmost care, I gathered her in my arms and rose from the couch. She stirred, curling into me, hands fisting in my shirt.
“Shh, I’ve got you,” I murmured.
I carried her down the hall, intending to settle her in the guest room. But when I tried to lower her to the bed, she clung tighter, a tiny whimper escaping her throat.
Looking down at her, I made a decision I hoped I wouldn’t regret. I headed for my own room instead, laying Akira on my bed. She immediately burrowed into my pillow with a sigh, and I pulled the covers over her.
Slipping in beside her, I gathered her into my arms. She fitted against me like she was made to be there. As her steady heartbeat thumped against my own, I breathed in the scent of her -- vanilla and something uniquely Akira. Then again, there wasn’t a damn thing in my bathroom that smelled like her. Maybe the vanilla was also just part of her scent.
Holding her like this, it was easy to imagine a future where this was our every night. I couldn’t think of anything I’d like more than falling asleep with her in my arms.
Once this threat was behind us, once I knew she was safe… I was going to ask her to move in with me. No more dancing around what we had. No more wasted time. She was it for me.
But for now, I simply held her close. As I closed my eyes, she started to talk in her sleep.
“Logan…” Akira murmured, her voice soft and drowsy. My heart swelled at the sound of my name on her lips. “Love you…”
A smile tugged at my mouth. Even in her sleep, she was so damn endearing.
“I love you too, sweetheart,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to her hair.
But the tender moment was shattered when Akira suddenly tensed, her breathing turning rapid and shallow. She thrashed in my arms, a choked cry tearing from her throat.
“No! Don’t -- Isaac, please!”
I tightened my hold, trying to still her flailing limbs. “Akira, wake up. It’s just a dream.”
She continued to struggle, lost in the grip of her nightmare. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she whimpered. “Scarlet… no…”
What the hell was she going through while she slept? And how had it changed so fast? It made me wonder if dream Scarlet and Isaac were trying to hurt me, and my sweet Akira was doing her best to fight them off.
“Shh, you’re safe. I’m right here,” I soothed, stroking her hair. My chest ached, seeing her like this. Knowing that despite her brave face, this situation had shaken her to her core.
Gradually, Akira settled, her breathing evening out as she sank back into deeper sleep. I kept up the gentle touches, murmuring reassurances. I wished there was something more I could do for her.
My phone vibrated on the nightstand, and I grabbed it, hoping I didn’t disturb her. It was a text from Wire.
We have a potential lead. Tracing some communications now. Will update in the morning .
That sounded like a step in the right direction. I appreciate your help .
He started typing again, and I impatiently waited for the words to appear.
Scarlet was found not too long ago. She was in rough shape. Someone had worked her over good. Burns and contusions. Left her for dead in an abandoned warehouse. At the hospital now .
I frowned at the screen. Scarlet had been attacked? I thought back to the unknown texter from earlier, the ominous message. Had Scarlet been the “her” they mentioned? If so, who was behind this? What was their angle? And who the hell had hurt her? I’d thought the message had been either from Scarlet or Isaac. Since the two seemed to be working together, it never occurred to me Scarlet would be in danger.
I glanced down at Akira, curled into me, finally peaceful in slumber. After sending a quick acknowledgment to Wire, I set my phone aside and gathered Akira closer. Burying my face in her hair, I let her scent soothe my racing thoughts. I wasn’t sure how she’d take the news, but I wouldn’t keep this from her. I just wanted to do it at the right time.
* * *
Akira
My eyes fluttered open, the warmth of Logan’s arm draped over my waist, his chest expanding and contracting with each slow breath. A sleepy smile stretched across my face as I savored the moment, the comfort and safety of waking up in his arms. If only every morning could start like this, just the two of us, the world fading away.
The sun coming through the window told me I’d slept longer than I’d intended.
Carefully, I extracted myself from Logan’s embrace, my gaze lingering on his face, serene and peaceful in sleep. He looked younger when he slept, the worry lines smoothed away, leaving only the boyish charm that had initially drawn me to him. I resisted the urge to brush my fingers along his jawline, not wanting to disturb his slumber. He needed the rest. Who knew what curveball would be thrown our way today?
Grabbing my phone from the nightstand, I felt my heart sink as I saw a text from Mom. Your father is furious you stayed at Logan’s. Avoid him unless you want another blow up. Be safe. Love you .
When was he going to realize I was twenty-five, not ten? I was older than Mom had been when the two of them met. Besides, she’d fallen for an outlaw biker. At least my guy was a law-abiding citizen. I didn’t understand what my dad disliked about Logan. He was good to me, would protect me at all costs, and had a great job. It wasn’t like a paramedic would have a hard time staying employed.
“Damn it,” I muttered under my breath. Every time I thought maybe I was getting through to my dad, he proved me wrong. And if he was pissed, then he could be careless. We didn’t need this crap right now.
The funny thing was that if it was someone else’s daughter going through this right now, my dad would be all over them, pointing out they had to let her go at some point and live her own life. But when it was his daughter? Yeah. If it were up to my dad, I’d live at home the rest of my life.
I’ll steer clear. Love you too . I was grateful for the warning but wishing it wasn’t necessary. The last thing I needed was more drama. Was it just me, or were bikers worse than little old ladies? They enjoyed gossiping, thought everything should be done their way, and felt like they knew everything about everything.
Sighing, I set the phone down and ran a hand through my tangled hair. I couldn’t let Dad’s anger distract me, not when I needed to stay focused on the threats lurking in the shadows. But avoiding him wouldn’t be easy, not in our small, interconnected world.
“Hey.” Logan’s sleep-roughened voice startled me from my thoughts. “Everything okay?”
I turned to see him watching me, concern etched into his handsome face, the lines around his eyes deepening with worry.
“Just my dad being his usual charming self,” I said with a wry twist of my lips. “Mom says he’s pissed I crashed here last night.”
Logan sat up, his hand finding mine, fingers intertwining with mine, a silent promise of support. “I’m sorry, darlin’. I hate that this is causing trouble with your folks. I really wanted to get along with them.”
“Not your fault.” I squeezed his hand, drawing strength from his presence. “I’m a big girl. I can handle my dad. I just… I can’t let him get in my head right now. I need to concentrate on staying one step ahead of whoever’s gunning for me.”
Logan nodded, his expression hardening with resolve. “We’ll figure this out, Akira. I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
I leaned into him, resting my forehead against his shoulder, inhaling his familiar scent of leather and musk, a scent that brought me comfort and calmed the storm raging inside. “I know. Thank you, Logan. For everything.”
He pressed a kiss to the top of my head, his arm coming around me in a fierce, protective embrace. I loved him so much! He was the best of both worlds, a biker with a heart of gold but one who didn’t go around murdering people. Then again, I knew the Dixie Reapers took out people who couldn’t really be considered human.
The insistent chime of my phone nearly made me groan. What now? With a sigh, I reached for it, my brow furrowing as a message popped up on my phone.
Meet me at The Pony. Need to talk. ASAP. -S
Scarlet? At least, I assumed it was her. I couldn’t think of anyone else who would send something like that and had a name that started with S. The message was cryptic, laced with an urgency that sent a shiver down my spine. Why The Pony, the bar where I earned my living slinging drinks and dodging drunken advances? If I told Logan where I was going or who I was meeting, he’d probably do his best to lock me up and keep me here. Was it reckless to run off and meet her? Yep. But I hadn’t been raised to sit at home and wait for someone to take care of my problems. I was a fighter, and I refused to do anything less than go down swinging. Neither Logan nor my dad would appreciate that, but I needed to do this.
But I wanted answers. Maybe she had information about the threatening texts Logan had received and the random odd messages I’d gotten recently. Not that I’d told anyone about them. But if they weren’t from her, then it was possible someone was backing her. I couldn’t afford to ignore any lead, no matter how strange.
On my way .
“Everything okay?” Logan asked.
“Yeah. I just need to head over to work for a bit. I’ll be fine,” I said, forcing a smile.
“How are you going to get anywhere? We didn’t bring your car here,” he said.
“Someone dropped it off. I can use the app on my phone to unlock it. The keys should be in the compartment hidden in the armrest.”
He didn’t look convinced, but he nodded. “Promise me you’ll be careful, Akira. And call me if anything feels off. If you think someone is watching you, or you see or hear anything suspicious, get the hell out of there. I’d go with you, but I have a feeling you’d tell me no.”
“I promise to be careful, and you’re right. I don’t need an escort.” I leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, then changed my clothes, ran a brush through my hair, and slipped out the door before I could second-guess myself.
The drive to The Pony was a blur. As I pulled into the parking lot, my frown deepened. I didn’t see any other vehicles in the lot. Had I gotten here too early?
I cut the engine, the sudden silence amplifying the unease gnawing at me. Something felt wrong, a cold whisper against my skin. But I was here now, committed to seeing it through. I’d promised Logan I’d leave if something was off, but… I really did need answers. I refused to sit around letting everyone take care of me, treating me like a child who couldn’t handle herself.
I climbed out of the car, the gravel crunching under my boots as I approached the bar’s entrance. The “Closed” sign flickered in the window, the neon letters blinking ominously. Better to wait inside than sitting around out here. Safer, or it should be. My fingers fumbled for the right key, my hands trembling slightly.
A sudden scuffle behind me made my heart leap into my throat. I spun around, but before I could react, an arm snaked around me, pinning me against the building. By the size and build, it had to be a man. A ski mask covered his face, and he wore long sleeves and pants. I could only see his eyes.
A hand clamped over my mouth and nose, pressing a rag soaked in something sickly-sweet against my face.
Chloroform, I realized with a jolt of icy fear.
I struggled against the iron grip, my muffled scream swallowed by the fabric. I tried to pull my knife from my pocket, but it was too late. The chemical stench filled my lungs, darkness creeping in at the edges of my vision. As consciousness slipped away, a bitter realization flooded my mind: I’d fallen for the oldest trick in the book. And now, I was paying the price.