13
LOGAN
T he note found on the rental car could have meant anything. I must have pissed off a dozen people since I started working at Smoky Vale Gen. Then there was the incident, the theory I’d foisted on both Bloom and the cops. Retaliation for what had gone down at the hospital. In my head, a warning bell went off, making it difficult to follow what the cops were saying.
The Agostis.
My family.
What if they were the ones behind this? And I’d exposed Bloom to them. While I didn’t recognize the man with the camera, he definitely looked like the type who worked for my father. My stomach knotted, and I bit the inside of my cheek. Weeks had passed since my face was plastered all over the television. The only people to contact me were the US Marshals to let me know my cover was blown, and they were ready to relocate me and provide a new identity if I gave the word. I would have expected my family to be in Smoky Vale already.
I’d gotten careless, thinking I was safe, but the Agostis never forgot. They held grudges. They exacted revenge—painfully.
No one was exempt, and definitely not me.
“We have all the information you’ve given us.” Officer Roberts tucked his notebook into his pocket. “We’ll check with mall security to see if we can get any surveillance footage that might have caught the perpetrator. It’s just a pity there’s no camera here.”
“Thank you very much, Officer. I appreciate it.” I nodded at a car driving slowly toward us. While the officers had been doing their checks, I’d ordered a ride for us to get back to the clubhouse. “That’s our Uber now.”
“Get someone out to bring the car to the garage quickly,” the cop said. “We wouldn’t want it to be stolen like the other one, or your insurance company might make things difficult for you.”
“Your car was stolen?” Bloom, who had largely stayed out of the cops’ way, pushed off from the wall where he’d been leaning.
Dammit. I hadn’t told him about the theft for a reason. Bloom had one default when people did him wrong. He retaliated. He would make a better Agosti than me.
And if you marry him, he’ll technically become one.
“It’s fine, Bloom. The cops are investigating.”
He snorted. “You actually believe they’ll find anything? They haven’t a clue what they’re doing.”
“He doesn’t mean that.” I gave the two officers an apologetic smile. “Thanks again for your help today. Bloom, let’s go.”
The Uber driver wound down his window. “Logan?” he asked.
“That’s us.” I hustled Bloom forward and opened the car door for him while he bristled. Luckily, he’d finished his ice cream and mine while I chatted with the cops. I needed to make arrangements to pick up the car, but I had to get Bloom back to the clubhouse first.
The car hummed quietly as we pulled out of the parking lot, leaving the two cops staring after us. I would have loved to hear what they actually said to each other once we were out of earshot. I let out a sigh.
“Why didn’t you tell me someone stole your car?” Bloom twisted the engagement ring on his finger.
“You were in the hospital. What were you going to do? Your health was more important.”
“I could have given orders from my hospital bed. That’s how a brotherhood works, you know. The other bikers have my back, and that means they have yours.”
The driver’s eyes flickered between Bloom and me. He picked up speed. Probably worried he was transporting two dangerous criminals. One out of two wasn’t so far from the truth.
Bloom remained quiet for the rest of the ride, but he was stewing. This wouldn’t be the end of our conversation. Soon, we pulled up to the clubhouse. A few bikers were outside, lounging on the porch, smoking. They watched us until we got out of the vehicle, then lost interest. The driver drove away at breakneck speed, leaving a plume of dust that made Bloom cough. Taking his arm, I led him toward the steps.
“Where the fuck is Gunner?” He shoved the door open with more force than necessary, sending it crashing into the wall. The bang reverberated through the silent clubhouse, and a few heads turned when we entered the mess hall.
“Bloom, what are you doing?” I asked. “Will you calm down? We need to talk.”
“I’m getting your car back.”
“Can we not make a scene? I don’t care about the stupid car.”
“And that’s fine if you don’t, but I do.” He spun around to face me, the color in his cheeks high. “No one steals from my man. How do you think that reflects on me having someone steal from the enforcer’s boyfriend? That’s not how an enforcer works. Their duty is to fear me, and mine is to ensure they do!”
I’d never seen Bloom so riled up, so utterly furious. Just when I thought I was getting the hang of the biker hierarchy and how things ran, he threw me for a loop. I could afford to get a new car. The insurance would handle it. Why bother to pick a fight? None of that mattered to him, though, because of his reputation. He had an image to uphold.
Jesus. He’s just like them. Just like my family.
My brothers would have acted the same way. Honor meant the world to them. I’d always thought it ironic that criminals had an honor-based system, but they took it even more seriously than regular civilians.
“Someone yelled my name?” Gunner entered behind us, his jeans unbuttoned and resting low enough on his hips to show off curly black pubic hair. He was bare chested, though he carried a T-shirt, which he put on, but not fast enough to hide the welts on his back and torso. His neck was covered in love bites, like he’d been to bed with a succubus. Some of the bikers snickered.
“Did you know someone stole Logan’s car?” Bloom asked.
“I might have heard about it.” Gunner scratched his head.
“And you did nothing?”
“Was I supposed to do something?”
“You run Smoky Vale. You know all the fucking secrets here. I’m sure you can find out who took his car and how we can get it back.”
“I suppose I can.”
“Well?”
“Ask me nicely, you demon.”
I dropped the shopping bags and held up my arms, waving between them. “All right, let’s put a stop to this nonsense right now. Bloom, I said it was okay. Drop it.”
He squared his shoulders, and from the mutinous line of his mouth and the jutting of his chin, I knew he wouldn’t. Used to him obeying my every word, I was taken aback when he ignored me.
“I watched Logan patch up Ben earlier, and he did it with no expectations,” he said. “You owe him this.”
“He’s got you there, Gun.” Ben walked in, looking only in a marginally better state than Gunner. At least he had clothes on, but his hair was a mess, and someone’s hand had been around his neck recently.
“All right, I’ll see what I can dig up.” Gunner crossed his arms and glared at me. “Your boyfriend’s got a mouth on him, Doc. You might want to do something about how fucking rude he is.” He grabbed Ben’s good arm. “Can we at least finish our business before I go car hunting?”
The two sauntered out, leaving the room in silence. Bloom looked particularly pleased with himself. His disregard for my feelings in the whole matter left me with a sour taste in my mouth. I didn’t like it at all. His actions reminded me of my father, my uncle, and my brothers, who did whatever the hell they wanted, even when it implicated me regardless of how I felt about it.
Without a word, I walked away, my jaw clenched. This was exactly the reason I couldn’t tell him the truth about my family. He was too impulsive. The Agostis weren’t easy to deal with, like car thieves. They would kill him without hesitation and grind his bones into dust.
My anger melted into fear. Why did I ask him to marry me? Why did I get him the ring? It was too late now to take it all back. I was tired of running, of always looking over my shoulder. I had no intention of running again, but what if that was the only way to keep Bloom safe?
“Logan, I know you’re mad at me, but you gotta understand the biker way.” Bloom entered the bedroom after me, closing the door with a kick. “I’m not just the boy you fuck and hold at night. This is also a part of who I am, and you have to accept all of me.”
“It’s just a damn car!” I threw the bags onto the bed. “Your life means more to me than an object I can easily replace. I didn’t tell you because I know you. You run off half-cocked without thinking like you did last time. Do you remember what happened? You just came out of the hospital yesterday!”
“I’m fine. If anything, I’ve been bored out of my skull with nothing to do.”
“You mean without killing someone, is that it? For the rest of our lives, I should stand aside whenever you get the urge to take someone’s life?”
“They don’t fucking deserve to live!”
“And you get to decide that?”
“And why the hell not? If two adults could decide that a five-year-old boy didn’t deserve to be human, I can fucking decide who lives or dies! I fucking hate them all anyway, so what if they die?”
I blinked slowly, the anger draining out of me. Silence enveloped the room in a thick shroud, the only sound our heavy breathing. Of course. This had to do with his parents and what they had done to him.
“Your parents are dead, Bloom. They deserved whatever you did to them. But you can’t punish other people for their crimes, whether or not those people are innocent. And I won’t have you kill anyone over my car.”
He pushed his bottom lip out and dug the toe of his boots into the mat. “Who said I was going to kill them?” He snapped his head up, and the stubborn gleam was back in his eyes. “But they gotta know, Logan, not to fuck with me or mine, and I won’t apologize for that or back down.”
At a loss of what to do and desperate, I grabbed Bloom by the wrist.
“What are you doing?”
“I want to show you something.” I brought him to the bathroom and placed him in front of me. Before the altar he’d built for me.
“Why are we here?” Bloom huffed.
“I think it’s been too long since you’ve performed your ritual. Do it.”
“But, Logan—”
“Are you going to continue arguing with me at the altar you created to worship me?”
A second passed. And another. Bloom bowed his head, the defiance softening. It was wrong of me to force him. I knew that. But I was out of options. I had to hit him where he would understand the significance, since his brain wasn’t wired like mine.
Bloom’s performance of his ritual moved me just as much as it had done the first time I accidentally walked into his bathroom and saw his shrine. Methodically, he lit the candles, showed devotion to the framed photo with a kiss, then got down on his knees. He couldn’t bow as he did before because of the wound in his chest. I clenched my hands into fists.
No one can hurt him. I’m doing this for his own good.
“Today I vow once more to be only yours in my heart, mind, body, and soul.” I closed my eyes, letting his words wash over me. “I pledge myself to protect, to revere, and to honor only you. For in you, I see the divine. You are my hope, my redemption, my s-salvation.”
His voice cracked on the last word, but he plunged on. “Nothing but death shall separate me from you. My hands are stained with the blood of men, but through the symbol of your blood, I am made clean.”
I picked up the knife and a disposable wipe. I cleaned the blade, then slit the fleshy side of my palm a bit deeper than I’d planned. Bloom inhaled sharply, grabbing my hand when I would have put away the blade.
“Don’t let it go to waste,” he whispered. I didn’t dare move as he licked the blade, cleaning the blood on it with his tongue.
His gaze bore into me as he ran his tongue along the edge. A shiver ran down my spine at its red-and-silver dance. When it was clean, he took my bleeding palm, his grip strong. He held it slightly higher than his mouth, letting my blood drip onto his outstretched tongue.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Each drip elicited a shiver through me. His eyes never left mine. They were filled with raw emotion that made my heart clench with desire.
This was Bloom in his purest form, stripped of all his defenses in worship at my feet. In this moment, I was his god. I knew whatever I told him, he would do. It was wrong of me to exploit this side of him, but I needed him to listen to me. I needed him alive more than I needed my last breath.
When the wound had bled enough, he gently closed his lips around it. His warm tongue traced over my palm, working to clean away what was left of my blood.
“Bloom,” I said breathlessly. “Do you know why I brought you here?”
He gave me a slight nod, continuing to suck on my wound.
“I need you to listen to me and to do exactly what I say. You’ll forget about the car and not put yourself in any harm. Is that clear?”
Bloom dropped my hand and pressed against the bulge at the front of my jeans. “Logan.” He mouthed the material, rubbing his face against the hard swell. “Need you.”
Fuck.
We were still at his altar. Was it sacrilege to fuck him in the same place where he worshipped me?
“Bloom,” I choked out. His hand was unyielding, kneading and squeezing me through the fabric. A bolt of heat speared through me. “This is…” I shook my head at a loss for words. “Are you sure this is the right place?”
“It’s the perfect place.” He unsnapped the button of my jeans, and the zipper went down quickly. “I’ve dreamed of doing this since I learned how good sex with you is. To be naked at my altar and be fucked by you.”
“Aren’t you sore?”
He pulled my cock out and took me between his lips.
“Shit.”
I grabbed the edge of the “altar” to keep my balance. Bloom took more of me into his mouth, swirling his tongue around in a maddening rhythm that left me moaning.
He slid his hands up my thighs, gripping them tightly as his mouth worked on me with fervor. Beads of perspiration formed on my forehead. Heat pooled in my lower belly, building, threatening to explode any minute.
He pulled back, spat on my dick, and stroked me. With his other hand, he balanced against my thigh and rose to his feet. “Lube.” He released me.
I didn’t move, my head still spinning from the way our day had flipped through the extremes. But Bloom shoved his pants down the swell of his ass, and yup, I was just like any other red hot blooded gay top when he spotted a nice rear end. I lubed my cock generously while he presented me with his back, watching me over his shoulder.
He was beautiful, with the candlelight flickering off his face and his tousled hair. With one hand, he pulled on one side of his ass, spreading his ass cheeks apart, baring his hole to me. He had whisker burns between his bum from where I’d had my face buried last night.
My breathing came out labored. The bandage on his chest reminded me of how he had nearly died.
I can’t lose him.
Placing my hands on his hips, I lined up against him, teasing his entrance with the tip of my cock. I needed to be inside him, to feel myself in him, to be one with him. As I slowly pressed into him, a whimper left his throat.
“Bloom…” His name seeped not only from my lips but from my pores. My whole world had become Bloom.
I wrapped an arm around his waist and ground against his ass with deep thrusts. His moans were like music to my ears, each one louder than the last. Was it possible to stay inside him like this all the time? I preferred having him in my bed than fighting my battles for me. I preferred having him safe and sound. He was so small, so precious. His bones mere twigs beneath my palms. Didn’t he get how fragile he was?
“Oh, Logan. Ah!” He clutched the edge of the altar to balance himself.
“Don’t move. Don’t want to hurt you.”
I kissed his head, the back of his neck, his shoulders while I worked my cock deeper and deeper inside him. I barely pulled out at all but kept grinding my cock against that spot that drove him wild.
“Sweet Satan…” He groaned, his voice pitched high. “That’s the spot right there, Logan. Oh, fucking hell!”
Bloom dug his fingers into the wood of the altar, his back spasming as he came with a loud cry. His body trembled, tightening around my cock with each convulsion, sending shivers up my spine.
I pulled out and stroked my cock hard, hissing as sensations ripped through me.
“Spread for me, baby.”
He grabbed his cheeks and spread them. His hole tightened, then relaxed into a small gape. I aimed, shooting my load over his hole in a mess that dripped to the floor. With a grunt, I smeared my cock through my cum and thrust it into him. Sighing, I stared down at our joined bodies.
Look how perfectly he stretches around me.
“I won’t do anything rash,” Bloom said quietly.
I eased out of him and turned him around. Framing his face, I touched my forehead to his. I looked into the depths of his doe eyes. “Do you hate me for making you listen to me?”
“I can never hate you.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
I gathered him gently against me in a hug and closed my eyes. When the day came to put that to the test, would he fail it?