TWENTY-SEVEN
Kaylan
A lazy warmth pressed against my stomach, Logan’s hand secure as I nestled comfortably against him. His other arm, my makeshift pillow, offered a gentle embrace that tightened slightly when I shifted, as if he were trying to keep me close forever.
It wasn’t difficult to notice the next thing, his hard length pressing against my butt. I shook away all the unsavory thoughts. I was advised not to have sexual intercourse for another week. Despite the physical limitations, the closeness felt right.
I rolled over to face him, and his features were relaxed in sleep, unburdened and serene, perhaps the most peaceful I’d seen him in months. A smile found its way to my lips, warming me further.
“It’s rude to stare,” he muttered without opening his eyes, a slight smirk playing at his lips.
Propping myself up on one elbow, I leaned in and captured his lips with mine before he could fully wake. My fingers instinctively wove into the hair at the nape of his neck, drawing him closer.
He kissed me back with a gentle eagerness, his chuckle vibrating softly against me. The sound was disarmingly sweet, shattering the residual tension of the night.
Breaking the kiss to catch a breath, I couldn’t help but laugh lightly, overwhelmed by the simplicity and beauty of the moment. His gaze held mine, filled with something profoundly tender.
And just like that, my blue-eyed stranger was back.
He edged closer again, as though to resume our kiss, but paused, a question in his eyes. “Can I?” he whispered.
At his words, my heart broke for him.
“Logan,” I said softly. “You don’t ever need to ask for permission to kiss me again, okay?”
His smile was swift and boyish before he reclaimed my lips, this kiss burning hotter, deeper than before. When we finally parted, breathless and flushed, he grinned. “This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
My grin faltered as I recalled Dr. Mendoza’s words. “This is a trauma bond, Logan.”
His brow creased slightly at that, drawing back a little. Regret instantly washed over me, perhaps evident in my quick change of expression, because he pulled me back into a firm hug. “Even if it is, it’s real, Chaos.”
It’s real.
After a moment, we rose from the bed. Logan excused himself to his room to freshen up, and I took the chance to shower, moving carefully with the fresh stitches. When he returned, he gently redid my dressing, each touch careful and diligent.
When we walked into the lounge for breakfast, it seemed everyone else had long since finished. They lounged around the table, deep in conversation. Leora’s broad smile was unmistakable as she caught sight of Logan and me entering together.
Logan picked up two plates and we headed to the buffet. I loaded mine with fruits and hash browns before finding a seat at the table. Logan, quiet as ever, followed suit and took the seat next to me.
As we dug into our breakfast, the team’s chatter resumed.
“So, it’s Election Day, folks,” Sebastian announced.
“And what does that mean for us?” Logan inquired, a look of genuine curiosity on his face. “Sorry, we’ve just been a bit out of the loop. Care to share, Bastian?”
I shot a surprised glance at Logan. I had never heard him use that nickname for Sebastian before, and it seemed I wasn’t the only one taken aback. Sebastian, however, just smiled warmly and nodded, which Logan reciprocated with his own slight smile.
“Well, George Aiden, who has ties to Garret Tyson, is on the ballot. If he wins the blue vote, we might be in for some trouble,” Sebastian explained, sipping his coffee.
Logan nodded.
“Do we know anyone in the new cabinet? Any names we recognize?” I asked, looking around the table.
Zane looked surprised, but it was Zarek who responded. “Actually, there’s a last name that stood out—Romano.”
Leora chimed in skeptically, “Romano is pretty common, though.”
“Romano? What’s special about that?” I inquired, intrigued.
“Casteel and Calzone Romano were Garret Tyson’s nephews, and Squad Six targets, but they’re both dead now,” Logan explained, his voice steady.
“We’ll look into it. But our main focus needs to stay on locating Garret’s new base of operations. I’m betting he’s still somewhere in the States,” added Sebastian confidently.
Logan’s expression hardened. “Wherever he is, he’s mine to take down.”
Kabir gave Logan a look of both respect and amusement. The table fell silent for a moment, absorbing the weight of his words, until Kabir broke the tension. “You’re looking good, Kaylan. Need any help with your dressing?”
Logan shot him a warning look and I suppressed a smile. “No, got it taken care of this morning,” I replied.
“Is that so?” Kabir grinned, not missing a beat.
Logan cleared his throat and turned to me. “Need some coffee?”
I smiled up at him, appreciative. “Sure.”
He stood, hesitated as if mulling over something. He murmured something under his breath and leaned down to give me a quick, tender kiss on the lips.
He was quick to walk away before anyone could react. I glanced around the table to see various expressions; some were grinning, others smiling, and Kabir was outright laughing with his fist on his forehead.
“And he called me a ‘territorial ass’,” Zarek quipped, shaking his head in amusement, drawing a giggle from Leora.
Breakfast wrapped up quickly. The team split off, with Kabir, Zane, and Amelia heading to the command center. Delara and I decided to hit the gun range; I needed to shake off the rust. Logan, meanwhile, headed off to his therapy session but not before promising to meet up with me later, a promise he sealed with a quick, affirming kiss.
Logan
“Let’s talk about the fact that you let her stab you,” Dr. Mendoza began, her voice steady and coaxing.
I sighed, “I just want to talk about Kaylan and how I can fix us. She’s still wary,” I said, the words feeling inadequate even as they left my mouth.
She tapped her pen against her notepad lightly. “So, you don’t want to talk about yourself, but rather Kaylan. Is it because you feel you were selfish before you learned about her ordeal?”
I clenched my fists, the memory of Kaylan’s pain twisting in my gut. “I hurt her, Dr. Mendoza. I said vile things to her. I strangled her. I called her a whore. The list is pretty fucking long,” I confessed, the words tasting bitter.
“The way you’re feeling right now, is it because she saved you?” she probed further.
“I’m not sure,” I murmured, my voice barely a whisper.
“When you first saw her at Ravenrock Hall, did you think she was going to help you? Did you put your faith in her?”
“Yes,” I admitted, remembering the flicker of hope that had sparked within me at her sight.
“And when she didn’t help you, for a month, did you lose that faith?”
“Yes,” I said, the acknowledgement heavier than I expected.
“But she did save you. Did you start to trust her then?”
“I trust her now,” I replied quickly, too quickly.
“But, between the time she saved you and the time you learned the truth, did you trust her then?”
I paused, searching the recesses of my fragmented memories. “I don’t remember… maybe no.”
Dr. Mendoza nodded thoughtfully. “So, you started trusting her when you learned that she had suffered too. Logan, I think you’re keeping a score. You suffered, she suffered, check. She saved you, check. But you haven’t saved her, yet.”
“So you think I need to save her?” I asked, my voice edged with defensiveness.
“I am saying that you think you do,” she corrected gently. “Which is why you have that guilt. Which is why I’m seeing self-destructive tendencies in you.”
“She said that what we have is a trauma bond,” I blurted out, the words tasting like ash.
“It’s probable,” Dr. Mendoza agreed.
“So, what I’m feeling isn’t real?” I asked, a sudden panic clawing at my chest.
“I’m saying that whatever you’re feeling is real to you , Logan,” she assured me, her voice soft yet firm.
“Dr. Mendoza, did you just invalidate my love for her?” The question erupted from me, laced with a terrifying relief as soon as the words left my mouth.
Love. I love her?
“Did you say love? Do you love her, Logan?” Her question was simple yet loaded with the weight of reality.
“Fuck! I think I do,” I muttered, then corrected myself with more conviction, “I do.”
“Do you think you do, or you do?”
“I love her,” I said firmly, the words solidifying something within me.
Dr. Mendoza smiled slightly, her eyes warm. “Then that’s where we start, Logan. With what you do know and what you feel. Let’s work from there.”
As I nodded, a sense of clarity began to seep through the confusion.