Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

PIPER

R eturning home the next morning feels strange. It feels like returning to the real world after spending time in a fantasy land. I don’t want to be here. I want to be in bed with Logan, pretending that everything’s going to be okay.

The sun is rising as I approach the apartment, feeling Logan’s eyes on me. I look up and down the street, but there’s no sign of the security. Ah, heck, I forgot to remind Logan to get his own security. He’ll remember, won’t he?

I sneak into the apartment and take a shower. Elliot’s shoes were in the hallway, so I knew he was home. I never thought a pair of brown boots could make me feel so guilty.

As the shower water runs down my body, it’s easy to imagine Logan is with me, pressing his heat close. After the shower, since it’s still so early, I grab a forty-five-minute nap. When my alarm blares, I regret it. It probably would’ve been better to stay awake.

Last night, Logan and I said little after the sex. It was like we were afraid to commit to anything, knowing that reality might bite us in the ass. But just lying there together felt so significant. The helicopter ride home this morning was far less fun than the ride out of the city.

“We can make this work,” he said when he dropped me off.

“How?”

“I don’t know. But we can. We will.”

I grab the prototype Forever Love phone, debating streaming a video to him. Then Elliot knocks on my door.

“Are you awake? I know you’re home. I heard the shower.”

“Yes,” I reply. “What’s up?”

“Coffee?”

“Sure.”

I drop the phone into the pocket of my sweatpants and join Elliot in the kitchen. It’s hard to be sure of his tone over the whir of the coffee machine, but I’m almost sure he sounds suspicious.

“Where were you last night?”

“I stayed over at Ruby’s,” I say instinctively.

“No, you didn’t,” Elliot says, narrowing his eyes at me.

Crap. What was I thinking, using Ruby as an excuse?

“You were with her last night,” I say.

“Yeah,” Elliot murmurs, seeming uncomfortable. We’re caught in a tangle of taboos, both of us doing wrong, both of us wondering if we’ll ever be able to find our way back to normal… even if it’s a new normal. “You don’t have to tell me. I was just making conversation.”

He turns back to the coffee machine. I drum my fingers against the counter, feeling like I’m about to offer up another round of word vomit. But I can’t tell Elliot without discussing it with Logan first, can I?

“What happened to the security?” I ask him, changing the subject. And it’s because it matters. I need to remind Logan of what he promised me.

“Huh?” Elliot turns.

“They’re not parked outside.”

“Weren’t yours with you last night?”

I shake my head. “Uh, no.”

“And you just noticed this morning.”

He’s backing me into a corner where I’ll have to lie. I can’t tell him that Logan called them off for the evening. Now I’m back in the city, last night already seems like a dream, one I woke from too soon.

“If they’re gone,” Elliot snaps, “it must be Sal. He got to them some way. He’s always bragging about how the Mangano Family has connections: to the cops, maybe to this security firm. Dammit. I need to call Logan.”

“Good idea,” I say, standing and beginning to pace.

It’s not helpful, but it feels like all I can do. Elliot puts his phone on the counter on speaker; the phone rings and then goes to voicemail.

“Dammit,” Elliot mutters. “Maybe he’s asleep.”

“Is Sal the boss of the Family?” I ask.

Elliot shakes his head. “No, but he’s a high-ranking member. He’s a cousin to the Don. He—what’s that?”

“Huh?”

It takes me a moment to realize that the prototype phone is making an alert noise—p ing, ping, ping . I reach into my pocket and take it out.

Your not-so-secret Valentine wants to share a video with you. Do you dare?

Hmm, that copy could use some work. I snap back to the moment. What if he says something that gives the relationship away? But there’s this uneasy feeling in me. Maybe I’m being paranoid, but the absence of security makes my imagination spiral into dark places.

I press A ccept . The screen shows nothing but darkness, which means the phone must be in Logan’s pocket.

“You doing okay back there, tough guy?”

“That’s Sal,” Elliot says, rushing around the counter. “What the hell’s going on?”

“Logan’s with Sal ?” I gasp, my heart pounding. “What? How? When? It’s only been an hour.”

“An hour since what?” Elliot says, tilting his head.

I say nothing, listening intently.

“I know why you haven’t gagged me, Sal,” Logan snarls. “You’re waiting for me to tell you how scared I am. You’re waiting for me to beg you to let me go. It’s never going to happen.”

“We’ll see how tough you are when we’ve taken our pound of flesh, you flashy fuck.”

“The Velvet Lounge.” Logan laughs gruffly. “What a name. How did you think of that one? It’s such a damn cliché, you might as well have called it ‘Mob Guys Meet Here.’”

“Like a seafood joint called The Clam? Or was called The Clam?”

“Ah, yeah, and then I slapped you around in my office, and you didn’t do a damn thing,” snarled Logan.

“Keep dreaming, you bastard.”

“Elliot,” I whisper. “We need to call the cops.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck .” Elliot slams his hand on the counter. “The Mangano Family has contacts with the cops. What if we get the wrong officer? We’ll tip them off. Make them mad. I don’t know what to do.”

“We can’t let them hurt, Logan!”

“Get ready for some fun,” Sal snarls.

The screen changes, and the audio gets dimmer, with the camera facing the car's ceiling.

“I think Logan has ditched the phone. What are we supposed to do?” I cry.

“Maybe I can talk to Sal,” Elliot says. “Convince him I’ll make Logan see sense.”

“They’re going to hurt him. And Logan won’t give in. We have to go. Now.”

Elliot looks strangely at me again. I’m letting too much emotion into my voice. I’m giving too many hints to the feelings whirring in me, but I can’t help it. The man I lost my virginity to, the man I’m ready to build a future with.

“We have to go. Now .” When Elliot keeps staring at me, I clap my hands in front of his face. “Now, Elliot! We can’t let this happen.”

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