Chapter 39
Logan
Feeling sick that I had to see even a small bit of John slobbering all over my girl, I drag her roughly away from the scene of the crime.
She is going into a meltdown, and I fear she might start screaming at any moment.
I need to get her out of here. The cleaner heard her over the phone.
I know he did before I heard the click of the line going dead.
She is in grave danger. I’ve shown her my hand and ripped open the Society right in front of her.
We are both in serious shit if this gets out.
Rue saying she wanted to recruit her and Francesca agreeing isn’t binding enough to save her.
Serena will be canceled, and I won’t be far behind.
The things Solitaire does…the things we do to ensure wealth, success, and to be one step ahead when crimes are committed, all of these things are illegal, criminal and would get us sent down faster than we could assemble a crack team of attorneys to sort it out.
My first priority is to get Serena out of here and back to my place; then, I can deal with the disgusting nature of having to erase John’s hands and mouth from all over her body.
I’m filled with rage that she just stood there and didn’t fight.
Not so much at her, but at this entire situation.
She should never have been on her own. We were so busy trying to keep her safe from Quentin that we didn’t even remember John had his perverted eyes on her as well. Scratch that…I forgot.
And I hate myself.
I’m taking it out on her when all I want to do is throw myself on her mercy and beg her forgiveness.
Acting purely on instinct, with her following me in a complete daze, I drag her down the street, and then we get lost in the darkness of the back alleys and side streets. I can’t risk anyone seeing her or me. She is a mess, her dress torn and her face tear-stained, and I’m covered in John’s blood.
Making it to within several feet of my building, I stop my brisk walk and inhale sharply, calming my soul now that we are close to home and away from the crime I committed.
Stripping off my jacket, I wrap it around her shoulders and pull it closed.
She looks up at me, at a complete loss for words or actions.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter, closing my eyes and leaning my forehead against hers. “I yelled, but I wasn’t angry with you. I’m supposed to protect you, and I failed. I’m angry at myself.”
Feeling her hand on my cheek, I open my eyes again and pull back from her.
“No,” she says. “You should be angry with me. I said no man would ever touch me again, and I stood there and let it happen. I’m sorry, Logan.
” She drops her hand and sinks to her knees in the filthy alley, falling into a puddle as light snow starts to fall around us.
“Get up.”
“Please forgive me.”
My throat is so thick with emotion that I’m not sure I can speak again. “Get up,” I choke.
“Forgive me, Logan, please.”
“Serena, there is nothing to forgive. If anything, you should be forgiving me.”
She clutches my thighs, gripping my pants as she bows her head. Her soft sob tears through me, and I can’t bear to see her like this.
In the next second, I drop to my knees in front of her, taking her in my arms and kissing her head as she cries into my shirt.
“Please forgive me, Logan. I need to hear you say it.”
“I forgive you.”
Those three words that catch in my throat are what she needs to move past this. Trying to convince her there is nothing to be sorry for isn’t really how this works.
“Thank you,” she weeps, soaking my shirt, mingling her tears with John’s blood. “Thank you.”
Tangling my fingers into her snow-covered hair, I squeeze her tightly. “Do you forgive me, Serena? I don’t deserve it, but I’m so sorry I let you down.”
“You didn’t, Logan. You saved me.”
“Too late.”
“No. Not too late.”
“We need to get inside.”
She nods, and I help her to her feet, feeling like someone punched my still-beating heart before squeezing it until it nearly bursts.
She doesn’t know the danger she is in, but it’s my job to protect her now and always.
I will never allow anyone to hurt her or try to take her away from me again. She is mine, truly and eternally.
Holding her close to me, we stumble into the building and into the elevator. When it arrives on my floor, I quickly unlock the front door and pull her gently inside, closing it and bolting us in.
“Let’s get you in the shower,” I murmur.
She nods, brushing the snowflakes from her face. “I need to call Rue.”
“I’ll do it. You go upstairs, and I’ll be with you in a minute.”
Pulling the bloody knife out of the jacket pocket, she hesitates, holding it out to me with a shaking hand.
Circling my hand around the hilt, I take it from her before she surrenders to my request, still shaken and shivering.
Placing the knife in the dishwasher, I pull my phone out of my pants pocket, I check the messages first to make sure the clean-up is done.
It is confirmed, so I breathe out a sigh of relief.
There is no mention of Serena being at the scene of the crime, so I ignore the peril for now, needing to take care of her first.
Firing off a quick message to Rue to tell her I have Serena and she’ll be staying the night here, I switch off the phone and strip off my shirt. Stuffing it into the washer and turning it onto a hot wash, I go upstairs to find Serena sitting on my bed, her head in her hands.
“Hey, baby girl. Look at me.” I take her hands and crouch in front of me.
“Who did you call?” she asks, her voice muffled into her chest as she stares down at her lap.
“It’s something we need to have a conversation about but not now, okay, angel? Let’s get you in the shower, cleaned up and warm first.”
She nods slowly, accepting that as much as she can.
Pulling her hands out of mine, she shrugs the jacket off and reaches up to slide the side zipper down on the ruined dress.
Helping her with a steadier hand, she drops hers to her lap, letting me undress her slowly, flinching only briefly when I expose her naked body.
“I will never hurt you, angel. Please don’t be afraid of me.”
“I’m not.”
Her defiant tone makes me smile sadly. She is trying to convince herself rather than me.
“This isn’t the first time, is it?”
She shakes her head.
“I’m sorry, angel. I’m sorry that you’ve been hurt by this before and again today. I’ve failed you.”
“No,” she says, shaking her head, so the wet tendrils of hair that have dropped out of her bun stick to her face. “This isn’t your fault.”
“It is because I wasn’t there. But you don’t have to worry ever again. I will never let you out of my sight ever again.”
She smiles sadly. “Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t be with me all day, every day.”
“Wanna bet?”
She cups my face gently. “You’re sweet, but I’m okay.”
I’m not sure I believe her, but choosing to for now, I lead her into the bathroom, where I strip off the rest of my clothes and turn on the shower.