16
LOGAN
A s I pulled into the clubhouse driveway, the first thing I noticed was my stolen car, parked in plain view as if it had been there all along. I slowed to a stop, my chest tightening. What the hell was it doing here? Had Bloom gone behind my back, ignored every word I’d said, and chased down the people responsible for taking the car?
I gripped the steering wheel hard. Disappointment settled like lead in my gut. I’d thought he understood, that we’d reached an agreement—no more recklessness. I could still see him at his makeshift altar, performing his little ritual, pledging himself to me. I’d believed him then, believed every whispered promise, but now…
Was it all an act? Was his so-called devotion nothing but empty words if he didn’t live by them?
Something happened. Someone got hurt.
Grimm’s words from earlier echoed in my head. My hands twitched against the steering wheel, but I was unable to let go. I felt as if someone was forcing me to remain seated in the car when all I wanted to do was run inside the clubhouse and find Bloom.
Dear god, he can’t be the one hurt. Not again.
I clenched the steering wheel until my fingers went numb, the anger turning into dread coiled so tight in my chest I could hardly breathe. With a harsh snap, I forced myself to unclip the seat belt and shove open the door. Every step toward the clubhouse felt like dragging myself through quicksand, my feet heavy.
The gravel crunched underfoot, but the noise barely registered. All I heard was Grimm’s voice. All I saw was the image of my car sitting there—a reminder of Bloom’s defiance.
I pushed open the front door and walked inside. A murmur of voices drifted down the hall, low and tense. I continued to the mess hall, each step heavier than the last.
I stopped cold. In the center of the room, Bloom sat slumped in a chair, his face pale, lips pressed into a tight line. His shirt was off, and Jamie was bent over him, wrapping a bandage carefully around his chest, his movements slow and deliberate. On the table beside them lay a pile of blood-soaked gauze.
My stomach dropped. Bloom shouldn’t be bleeding. Not at this stage after his surgery.
Bloom raised his head, and our gazes met. He at least had the decency to look ashamed. Good. He knew he was in the wrong.
“Logan…” Bloom’s voice was soft, his lips pulling into a weak smile, but he couldn’t hide the pain in his eyes. “I’m fine, just a little—”
I balled my hands into fists at my sides, every muscle in my body screaming to keep control. But all I saw was his pale skin, the bruises darkening around his collarbone, the pain he was trying to hide.
“Fine?” The word slipped out as I crossed the room. “What happened?”
Jamie, unfazed by the tension rolling off me, finished tying off the bandage. “I’m still working here, Logan. He had a minor incident, but he’ll be fine once he gets some rest.”
“I’ll decide if he’s fine,” I said, my voice clipped. For once, I found no humor in Jamie’s meddling in our relationship. “Did this happen because of the car?”
“No, I—”
“Think carefully whether you want to continue that lie.”
Bloom glanced around at the bikers, who hung around in awkward silence. He set his jaw in a defiant line. “You can’t talk to me like that. I’m the enforcer. I do what’s best in the club’s interest. Someone stole your car, so I got it back.”
“Are you telling me that piece of junk is worth your life?” I didn’t know whether to rage or weep at his recklessness. I was so scared for him and the extent he went to for me. The bloody gauze on the table was stark, horrifying proof I might not be able to keep him safe. “Is it that you want me to value a car more than you?”
He opened his mouth, but no words came out. How could I stay angry at him? He looked like he was in so much pain. And all for a stupid car. What if my life was threatened again? Did he think I could live with myself if he put himself between me and a bullet?
“Swear on my life, Doc, he was the perfect angel,” Gunner said. “We didn’t go looking for trouble. Neither of us thought the bastard would ram his enormous self into Bloom.” He nodded to a bloodied hammer leaning against the wall. “Broke his kneecaps for you. He won’t be walking anytime soon. If ever again.”
Did he think that made up for everything? Taking a million lives would not have brought Bloom back if he had died today. They didn’t understand that. Retaliation could only help so much, but it would never bring back what was destroyed.
Without thinking, I walked over to the hammer and picked it up, the solid weight of it grounding me, steadying the tremor in my hands.
“Logan! I know you’re upset,” Jamie cried. “Just stop to think a minute before you do anything stupid. He is going to be okay.”
This time.
But what about the next time? And the next?
I walked out the door and headed for the car. That expensive piece of crap that could have cost me Bloom’s life. I’d been so proud when I’d purchased it. A top-of-the-line brand that any car aficionado would appreciate. Worthless junk.
Behind me, I heard Bloom’s voice, shaky, desperate. “Logan… what are you doing?”
I didn’t answer. My thoughts were a blur, a fury so cold it felt like ice in my veins. I stopped next to the car, lifted the hammer, and brought it down with all my strength. The hammer connected with the windshield, a deafening crack sounding as glass shattered, spidering out in jagged lines. It was the sound of all my anger, all my frustration, splintering into a thousand pieces.
Why was the car so damn important to him that he hadn’t been able to let it go? Did he think I gave a fuck about him being an enforcer? That he was a Blood Hound? For fuck’s sake, the only thing that mattered was that he was mine.
Mine to keep safe.
Didn’t he know that my life would be nothing without him?
“Logan, stop!” Bloom’s voice broke behind me, thick with desperation. “Please! I’m sorry.”
But I didn’t stop. His “sorry” was too reactive. If he’d really considered my feelings, he wouldn’t have gone after the car thief in the first place. I swung the hammer again, smashing through the passenger-side window, the shards scattering like broken promises across the pavement. Like his broken promises to me.
My chest heaved, each swing a release, an outlet for the rage that had been building since I’d seen him sitting there, hurt, fragile. A rage that had been simmering under the surface for over a decade. Rage at my family for forcing me into a corner, pushing me to survive by becoming the one thing they despised—an informant.
One by one, bikers spilled out onto the porch, watching the insanity I’d inherited—the volatile rage I could no longer run from—consume me.
They stood frozen, stunned, the shock in their eyes matching the weight pressing against my ribs. None of them had ever seen me like this before. Not calm, cool, collected Dr. Collier.
“What the fuck is going on here?”
I hadn’t heard Crowe come into the yard, but his deep voice penetrated my haze. I stilled, panting heavily, the hammer hanging limply by my side. Sweat trickled down my temple, and my heart pounded like a drum in my ears. The car was nearly unrecognizable now.
Shit.
I let the hammer slide from my hand to the ground, the anger draining out of me. That rage… More than a dozen times, I must have watched my father unleash his fury on people who disappointed him in the past. My brother laughing as he pummeled some unconscious man into the concrete. All this time I’d thought I was better than them. That I was different.
But I’d just found my muse who could make me snap. Found out my trigger that could just as easily make me the monster my family had wanted me to be. All because of Bloom.
A hand pressed to my shoulder. “What the hell’s gotten into you? Why the hell are you frightening my men? And they’re not easily frightened.”
I shoved Crowe off me. “Frightened?” I laughed, the sound chilling. “Had he not come back to me alive today, I’d be smashing more than this fucking car with this hammer.”
I unlocked the rental, and nodded at Bloom. “Get in.”
“No way are you taking him away when you’re in such a pissy mood,” Crowe said.
“Crowe, stay out of it.” Bloom walked over to me, wincing slightly, his movements slower than usual. “I’ll go with him.”
“Do you even know where you’re going?” Crowe snapped.
“It doesn’t matter where.” He wrapped an arm around me and buried his face in my side. “He would never hurt me. I’ll follow him anywhere.”
Ah, goddamn. Just when I wanted to stay mad at him.
“We’re going home,” I said, softening my tone. I combed my finger through his hair. “It was a mistake bringing you back here. I thought you’d be safe. Not that one of them would do something this dumb and risk your life.”
“What the hell did I miss?” Crowe yelled. “What happened to Bloom?”
Ignoring the lot of them, I helped Bloom get into the car. I hopped into the driver’s seat and started the engine. The roar drowned out whatever Crowe was shouting at Gunner.
I put the car into Drive, my grip on the steering wheel shaking, still heavy with the echoes of the hammer’s impact.
“You’re bleeding,” Bloom murmured. I looked at my hands, the fresh smears of blood on my knuckles, the tiny shards of glass embedded in my skin.
“Now you care about how I feel?”
“Logan, that’s not fair.”
I didn’t answer. Just drove away. With each passing mile, the silence between us grew heavier, and I gripped the wheel so hard my knuckles turned white. I felt Bloom glancing at me, but I kept my eyes fixed on the road, jaw tight. I needed this silence to calm down, to gather the pieces of myself that had shattered back there.
I’d only ever lost control like that once before. When my family went to the extreme to prove they owned me. I’d been so livid I’d driven myself to the nearest FBI headquarters. And it’d cost me everything.
When we finally pulled up to my house, I cut the engine and got out. I rounded the car to open his door and scooped Bloom out in my arms.
“Logan, I can walk!”
I merely grunted. He gave in and wrapped his arms around my neck. I let us inside the house and climbed the stairs to my bedroom.
“Are we…going to have sex?” he asked.
“S-s-sex?” I spluttered. “You are talking about sex at this time?”
“Sorry?”
He didn’t sound sorry enough.
Once we were in the bathroom, I placed him on the vanity. It reminded me of the night he’d reopened the wound in his thigh and I’d brought him home with me. The night everything had changed.
“Logan,” he said as I rummaged through the medicine cabinet. “Jamie already checked it. I don’t need—”
But I didn’t let him finish. Gently but firmly, I took off his shirt, then peeled away the bandage, careful not to hurt him further. Beneath it, his wound had bled again, a line of angry red where his skin had been forced to endure yet another assault. It wasn’t as bad as I’d feared, but still…seeing it brought back a fresh wave of that sick dread that had nearly paralyzed me at the hospital and today at the clubhouse.
I applied a fresh bandage, my hands steady, even though my heart pounded. Only after everything was done, after the last strip of medical tape was in place, did I allow myself a breath of relief.
“Logan, I’m fine.” Bloom brushed my hair back from my face.
I caged him in by placing both my hands on either side of him on the vanity. “Why did you disobey me, Bloom?”
“I didn’t.”
“You promised me you wouldn’t go after the car. I watched you perform your ritual in front of me. We made love right where you vowed to obey me.”
“But you also heard me vow to protect you. They took something from you. I had to get it back.”
“No, you could have listened to me when I told you the car wasn’t important. You don’t get it, do you, Bloom?” I took up his hand and kissed the ring on his finger—his engagement ring. “You mean the world to me. Do you think if something worse had happened to you that the car would have been a comfort? Bloom, baby, sweetheart, I don’t want to live without you, and it absolutely terrifies me when you’re reckless. You make me want to tie you to the bed before I leave the house just so I know you’ll have to stay put until I get back. Is that what you want?”
“I don’t mind being tied up.”
“This is not the time for jokes.”
“Sorry.”
“I don’t think you are.”
“I really am.” He clenched his fingers around mine. “I know you believe the worst, but I didn’t go to have a fight. Not that I didn’t want to, but I heard your voice in my head, and we were all polite and shit when we asked for the car, but he got scared and thought he could use my body as a swinging door to escape.”
“Did Gunner really smash his kneecaps?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.”
Bloom leaned back, his eyes roving my face. “Why do I feel like you became an entirely new person today?”
“How so?”
“I’ve never seen you so angry. You just lost it and wouldn’t listen to reason. For a second there, I thought you were gonna start swinging that hammer at Gunner’s head. You smashed your car. The car I’d just stolen back for you. Now it’s useless.”
“Good riddance. I could never look at it and not think of how foolish you were today.”
“Some would have called me heroic.” He pouted.
I tugged on his lip. “Foolish,” I repeated. “Does your chest hurt?” When he hesitated, I tipped his chin. “Tell me the truth.”
He grimaced, shoulders slumping as he leaned into me. “Yeah, it does. Really bad.”
This time I managed to tamp down the anger. “I’ll give you some painkillers, and then I want you in bed for the rest of the day.”
“But we have plans for dinner.”
“Screw the plans, Bloom. Your health is more important.” I patted his back and gentled my tone. “I’ll order in, and we can eat dinner in bed, okay?”
“Okay.”