21
BLOOM
P retending I was asleep wasn’t easy, but I did it. Logan whispered my name as though checking if I was still awake. When I didn’t answer, he placed a kiss on my naked shoulder. We hadn’t bothered to put clothes on since relocating upstairs, where he’d eaten his cum out of me, then fed it to me. It’d been the filthiest thing anyone had ever done to me and also the most intimate. I’d loved it.
“Everything I do is to protect you.” His whisper ended with a sigh that reached a place inside me that ached. I knew that sound. It was a sound of defeat. What was going on with him that he wouldn’t tell me?
He carefully got out of bed. I tracked his movements in the dark, heard the whisper of clothes as they grazed his skin. It was useless to ask him what was bothering him. He would never tell me, which was the reason I had to follow him tonight.
The door closed with a quiet click. I didn’t need to follow him immediately. Not with the tracker I had on his phone. He wanted to protect me. I wanted to do the same to him. He had his ways, and I had mine.
I felt way better after our round in the kitchen. Logan was still in love with me. He wanted me. Something else was going on.
When his car drove off, I hastily dressed—black cargo pants, a dark fitted shirt, my worn combat boots, and a jacket. I stuffed the mask into my pocket, then got the spare keys to my bike. Logan thought he had the only copy locked away in his safe, so I couldn’t ride without his permission. I’d only obeyed not to worry him, but I needed to know what his conversation had been about, who he was meeting.
I took a deep breath as I straddled my bike. The familiar leather and cold steel between my thighs was comforting, grounding after the whirlwind of emotions I’d been through. I put on my helmet and turned on the engine, its low growl and vibration filling the night. I checked the app on my phone that showed the direction Logan was driving, then followed suit.
I rode through the city, navigating the dark, almost deserted street. The wind whistled through the slits in my helmet, and my fingers were numb from the cold. In my haste, I’d forgotten my gloves.
The tracker showed Logan’s last location on the city’s outskirts. At a hotel. What was he doing there? A security guard let me in, and I circled the parking lot until I spotted Logan’s car. I parked a few feet away and killed the engine.
The beacon on the tracking app indicated Logan was still inside the building.
Inconnu. I frowned. What was this hotel? I clicked the link, and the hotel page opened. Squinting my eyes, I forced my brain to focus on the words. A few jumped out at me.
Love hotel.
Bring your partner, or we can find one for you.
What was a love hotel? I did a quick search, using images to get a clearer picture so I didn’t have to read more words. Sex dungeons and themed sex rooms popped up in the results. My vision swam, shock gripping my heart. Was Logan into some kinky shit he didn’t want me to know about? But he could tell me. Hadn’t I proved to him I would do anything he wanted?
We’d just had sex. Why would he need to come to a love hotel? Wasn’t I enough for him after all? Was everything he’d said to me while he was inside me a lie?
The earlier doubts resurfaced as the sting of betrayal made it difficult to breathe. I wanted nothing more than to barge into the hotel with my knife and find out who Logan was with, but it was a big hotel. I needed to catch him off guard. Otherwise, he could talk me into believing whatever shit he fed me like he had tonight.
I waited.
I texted Crowe.
Logan’s cheating on me.
My phone rang almost instantly. “Hey.”
“What kind of nonsense did you just text me?” Crowe asked.
“He’s cheating, Crowe.”
“I don’t think that’s true. I’ve given him a tough time, but I can tell he’s crazy about you. This is one of those times that you shouldn’t listen to the voice in your head.”
“Then what’s he doing meeting up with somebody else at a hotel less than an hour after he fucked me in his kitchen?”
“I’m sure there’s an explanation. Where exactly are you?”
“I’m taking care of it.”
“What do you mean, taking care of it? Bloom, don’t do anything you’ll regret. Let him explain. You don’t always have the best judgment of situations.”
“No? Then tell me what else am I supposed to think? I overheard him talking on the phone that he was going to meet with someone. He fucked me, and then he left when he thought I was sleeping. I tracked his phone—”
“You put a tracker on his phone?”
“Yes, like what you do with Max.”
He groaned. “Max isn’t like the doctor. He actually likes being stalked. He likes me knowing where he is every second of the day. Logan’s not like that.”
“I don’t regret doing it, or I wouldn’t have caught him in the act.”
“Tell me where you are, and I’ll come.”
“I don’t need you to come. I’m just telling you… in case I do something really bad. If he’s cheating, I’m going to hurt him, Crowe.”
“Bloom—”
I ended the call and turned my phone off. A few minutes later, the front doors of the hotel opened. Two figures came out together. I easily made out Logan’s figure. I could pick his silhouette out of a million others. But the man with him wasn’t Joel like I’d thought. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or more worried.
If Logan had taken a second lover, I would have expected someone more like me. This guy was the opposite. He was the same size as Logan. I frowned. Logan had mentioned once that I wasn’t the type he usually fucked. He used to go out with older, more mature men.
Well, this guy fits the bill.
I fought the need to reach for my knife and charge them both. I still needed to know why. What did this man have that I didn’t?
They parted, going to their separate cars. Logan got in first and drove away. Right past me, but didn’t notice me. I didn’t need to follow him. I knew exactly where he would be going.
Logan’s companion took out a phone and slowly walked in my direction. With the phone tucked between his ear and shoulder, he lit a cigarette and took a drag.
“Yes, everything’s going according to plan,” he said.
As he got closer, I pulled my helmet lower, hiding my face. It seemed his car was near me, but he was too absorbed in his conversation to pay attention to me or my bike.
“I couldn’t get him to leave the kid behind, so you’ll have to deal with them both…. Yeah, he’s determined to marry him. If I’m to keep up this charade that I’m here on behalf of WITSEC, I can’t say no. I have to take the kid too…. Look, it hasn’t been easy, okay? I can’t make a move until he’s ready, and Agosti has his soldiers all over town. One of his lawyers is here too…. Yeah, I know I can’t let him go to New York, and he wouldn’t either. He hates his father’s guts. I’m trying my fucking best here…. Do you know how much this could cost me if anyone knows I’m using my job as a Marshal to help someone like you?…. Fine.”
What the fuck!
Logan hadn’t met up with this guy for sex. I couldn’t understand it all, but it sounded like he was pretending to be someone he wasn’t and planning to double-cross Logan. Like hell he would. Later I could apologize to Logan for not trusting him, but no way was I letting this double-crossing piece of shit go. I needed to know what he knew.
The man finished his call, muttering something under his breath. He flicked the cigarette butt to the ground and ground it out under his boot, then got into his car. I waited until his taillights blinked on, the low rumble of his engine cutting through the quiet night. He pulled out of the parking lot. With a steadying breath, I started my bike, keeping a good distance behind him.
I trailed him, keeping to the shadows, my headlights off. The roads grew darker as we moved into the seedier part of town, the flickering neon sign of a rundown motel promising hot girls. He turned in and parked near the back entrance. I watched from the edge of the lot as he got out, scanned the area, then headed to a room.
As soon as he unlocked the door and stepped inside, I swung off my bike, my heart thundering as I approached the door. I pulled my knife from my boot, the weight of it solid and reassuring in my palm. I knocked.
“Who the fuck’s there?”
“It’s me.” I smiled, knowing he was using the peephole.
“You? What are you doing here?”
So he recognized me. “Logan forgot something that he asked me to give to you.”
“Just a minute.” Seconds ticked by, but then the lock clicked open and the door swung inwards. “I don’t understand. I was under the impression when I spoke to him just now that he hadn’t explained yet what his real name is.”
Logan had a different name? I pushed the information to the back of my mind for now and pressed my knife against his round belly.
“Take a step back slowly,” I said.
I entered the room and closed the door behind me.
His breath hitched, and he raised his hands. “Fine. Just… take it easy.”
I tightened my grip, my gaze locking onto his. “Easy isn’t exactly how this is going to go, especially if you don’t start explaining what your meeting with Logan was all about.”
The man swallowed. “Look, kid, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. You should forget you met me and Logan while you’re at it. This won’t end well for you.”
“I’m the one with the knife.” I slashed the blade across his cheek, surprising him enough to get behind him and hold the blade to his neck.
“Fucking son of a bitch,” he growled.
“Take your belt off,” I said.
“Is this some kind of joke?”
I sank the knife into his neck hard enough to cut into his skin. “If you knew anything about me, you’d know I don’t take anything to do with Logan lightly. Take your fucking belt off and loop it around your wrists.”
He slowly undid his belt. A quick glance of the room revealed a laptop sat on the small, unmade bed. Papers were strewn across the bedside table—some of them seemed to be official documents, bearing colorful stamps and heavy with text, while others were covered in scribbled notes.
The man drove hard into me, shoving me back. I gritted my teeth against the pain in my chest.
Fuck, Logan’s gonna kill me if I reopen the wound.
I released him and dodged to avoid him pressing me into the wall. The man, now free from my grip, darted toward the suitcase. I jumped onto the bed and leaped, tackling him at the waist, throwing all my weight forward. We crashed into the small dresser, rattling the whiskey glass and lamp. He grunted, twisting to push me off, but I clung to him, sliding my knife between his ribs.
He cried out, stumbling back as the blade sliced into him, blood darkening his shirt. With a growl, he spun and lashed out. His fist connected with my shoulder, sending a jolt of pain down my arm. I staggered, but instinct took over. Crowe hadn’t taught me how to defend myself to be easily beaten up by someone. Even if he was bigger than me. I ducked under his next swing, rolled behind him, and plunged the knife into the back of his knee, forcing him off-balance.
“Son of a bitch,” he hissed, falling to one knee. The fact that he didn’t cry out for help told me everything I needed to know. He wasn’t an innocent man. If anyone else came, they risked exposing him, which he didn’t want.
His hand shot out, grabbed my leg, and yanked me forward. I tumbled down, my knee slamming against the floor. Pain flared, but I couldn’t afford to stop. I twisted, driving the knife into his side.
“You don’t know who you’re messing with.” He clawed at my arms as I scrambled on top of him. His size gave him leverage, and he almost threw me off, but I shifted my weight, pressing my knee against his wounded side, forcing a pained groan from him.
“You’re right,” I whispered, sliding the knife along his throat, close enough for him to feel the cold steel. “I don’t know who you are, but I know enough.” With a twist, I drove the blade into his shoulder.
The man thrashed, his face twisted in agony. I leaned in close, pressing my forearm across his chest, pinning him down. “Stop moving, or I’ll make this hurt a whole lot worse. This—this is what I thrive on, so give me all the reasons to hurt you, motherfucker. It’ll be my fucking pleasure.”
He stilled, his chest heaving, sweat dotting his brow. I kept the pressure on, feeling the strain in my muscles, but the sight of him immobilized, defeated, was enough to keep me steady. Blood seeped from his shoulder, pooling beneath him.
“Now,” I said, my voice low, “you’re going to tell me exactly what you’re doing here, who you’re working for, and why you’re targeting Logan. And if you lie to me?” I pressed the knife a little deeper. He winced, his face pale.
“Fine,” he gasped. “I can’t tell you who sent me.”
“You will, or I’ll fucking kill you.”
“But he’ll kill my family if I do. I can’t let that happen.”
“What do you know about Logan’s past?”
He swallowed, sweat trickling down his forehead. “If I tell you everything I know, will you spare my life?”
“I’ll think about it.” I pressed the knife farther into his shoulder until a thin line of blood dripped down his arm and tears rolled down his cheeks.
“His real name’s Keegan Agosti.”
Agosti. The Agosti family Grimm’s son worked for? “Is that the Mafia family in New York?”
“Yes, they’re important people, and if I’m dead, you’ll regret it.”
“What do they want with Logan?”
“Thirteen years ago, Keegan Agosti betrayed his family and became an informant for the FBI, which led to his father’s incarceration. He’s been in the witness protection program since.”
“And why are you here?”
“His identity is exposed. I’m here to relocate him to a safe place.”
“You mean hand him over to the people who want him? I heard every word you said on that call earlier. So tell me, who was the person on the other end of the line?”
He shook his head. “I can tell you everything except for that.”
I gritted my teeth. “Tell me!”
“I can’t.”
“We’ll see about that.”