Chapter Eighteen
Logan
Beautiful, crazy
She can't help but amaze me
The way that she dances
Ain't afraid to take chances
And wears her heart on her sleeve
‘Beautiful Crazy’ - Luke Combs
Tonight we’re having a party at the club to celebrate me claiming Mac.
Any time we’re welcoming someone into the family, it’s a reason to throw a celebration.
That… and the guys will take any excuse to blow off steam, drink, and take the night for themselves.
The music will be loud, the whiskey will flow, and every man in the room will get a little looser with his words and his fists.
A part of me always knew that when Mac walked back into my life, this is where we’d end up. My patch on her. Her at my side. My name in her mouth when she’s falling apart for me. It was inevitable.
Walking up to Shaina’s door, I notice something sitting on the floor in front of it. It’s small enough that at first I think maybe it’s something one of the neighbors dropped off for her a package, maybe. But as I get closer, I see it’s a box of chocolates.
My first thought is that they’re for Shaina. She’s loud, she’s flirty, she gets attention wherever she goes. But something about it still makes my shoulders tighten.
I bend down to pick it up, the weight of it shifting in my hand. That’s when I see the envelope, crisp and cream-colored, resting on top.
And then I see her name.
Not Shaina’s. Mac’s.
My body goes rigid, a cold spike of adrenaline working its way through me before I’ve even had time to think. The hallway is quiet, but my eyes still flick to it instinctively, scanning the shadows, my pulse starting to thud harder.
I’m still holding the damn box when I knock on the door.
Inside, I hear her voice call out bright and unsuspecting, “Coming!”
When she opens the door, her smile is wide, like she’s just happy to see me. That smile hits me in the chest the same way it always does.
“You got me chocolates?” she asks, her arms looping around me.
But I’m still standing there like a statue, my arms stiff at my sides, my mind already running scenarios.
When I don’t hug her back, she pulls away just enough to search my face. “What’s wrong?”
“These aren’t from me,” I say flatly, stepping into the apartment without waiting for an invite and setting the box down harder than I mean to on the kitchen counter. The sound is sharp in the quiet space.
I rip the envelope open. Inside is a blank card, the kind you’d find in some cheap gift shop, but the handwriting in it is deliberate. ‘See you soon, babe.’ Signed, Anthony.
I shove the card toward her, my voice low but edged with steel. “Tell me what the fuck is going on, Mac.”
The change in her is instant. I watch the color drain from her face, see the way her body stills, every muscle tight, her eyes going somewhere far away. She sinks down onto the barstool like her legs can’t hold her anymore, her hands covering her face.
She doesn’t speak. Doesn’t move. Just breathes shallow, like she’s trying not to let whatever’s inside her out.
That’s when I know this isn’t about her seeing someone. No. This is something else entirely. And whatever it is, it’s bad.
I walk to her, my boots sounding too loud against the floor. Lowering myself so I’m eye-level, I try to get her to look at me, but she won’t. My hands come up, bracing either side of her face, my thumbs skimming along her cheekbones.
“Mac.” I soften my voice, forcing some of the anger out of it.
Her hands drop slowly, revealing red-rimmed eyes that she’s clearly fighting to keep from spilling over. But it isn’t just sadness there. It’s fear. The kind of fear that makes my gut knot and my vision sharpen.
“Talk to me.”
“Where were these?” Her voice is so quiet I almost miss it.
“Outside the door. In the hallway.”
Her head moves side to side in short, jerky shakes.
“You need to tell me what’s going on, babe. I can’t help if you don’t fill me in.”
Her voice is hesitant at first, but then it all starts to come out. The story about her old boss, the last day she worked for him, what he tried to pull. Every word she speaks twists something tighter inside me, winding my anger into something sharp and dangerous.
By the time she’s done, I’ve already decided, this asshole is going to pay for every second of fear he’s ever put into her.
“I never told him where I was moving. Or even where I was from,” she says, her voice breaking just enough to make me want to put my fist through the wall.
I pull her in against me, feeling the tension in her body, the rapid pace of her breathing. I rest my chin on her hair, breathing in the faint, sweet scent of her shampoo. Fruity. Light. The kind of smell that doesn’t belong anywhere near the ugliness that man’s brought into her life.
“He won’t touch you. You’re mine, and I’ll keep you safe. Always.”
She nods against my chest, and we stand like that until her breathing evens out a little.
“You ready to head out?” I ask quietly.
She leans back just enough to glance toward the hallway. “I’m scared. He was here.”
Hearing her say it aloud cuts deeper than I expect. Makes me feel like no matter how much muscle I’ve got, how many people I’ve got behind me, I still can’t cover every angle at once.
“You’re going to come stay with me.”
She tilts her head back, her brows drawing together.
“He was here, but I don’t give a shit how crazy he is I don’t think he’ll have the balls to show up at my place.”
She shakes her head. “I’ll be fine here. We’ll just alert the front desk and they can keep an eye out. I’m not moving in with you just because of this.” She turns toward her bedroom, but I catch her hand and spin her back to face me.
“That’s not the only reason, and I know you know that. I want you with me. All the time. Every night. This was inevitable anyway.”
She rolls her eyes, trying to cut through the heaviness. “Gee, when you’re so romantic about it, of course I’ll move in with you.”
I hook my hands around her ass and lift her until she’s eye level with me. “I hate nights when you aren’t with me. I spent ten miserable fucking years without you. Now that I have you again, I don’t want to spend an hour that way. You’re as essential as the damn air I breathe.”
I kiss her, hard and deep, putting every ounce of truth I have into it. She melts into me, her lips parting, and a soft moan escapes before I finally pull back.
“Good enough?” I ask, one brow raised.
“I mean…” She shrugs, smirking. “It was okay.”
She leans down to brush another kiss over my mouth before I set her down, my hands sliding slowly along her curves until I have to let go.
“Let’s get out of here.”
I take her hand and lead her down to my bike, every step bringing a prickling along the back of my neck. I can’t shake the feeling that we’re being watched. I tell myself it’s paranoia. But deep down, I’m already cataloging how to handle it if I find out it’s real.
When we roll into the clubhouse lot, the sound of music and laughter is already spilling out into the night. Inside, the noise is twice as loud with cheers and claps on the back as soon as we step through the door.
My gaze cuts across the room until I find Dom. A quick nod toward the hallway and he follows.
In his room, I lay it all out, what happened at the apartment, what Mac told me about Anthony.
“I want a full workup on him. Where he’s staying. How long he’s been here. Put a prospect on him when you find him. I want to know every move he makes until I deal with him. And I want someone with Mac whenever I can’t be.”
“You want me to start now?”
I shake my head. “We’re staying here tonight. She’ll be fine. Celebrate with us, take a break. First thing in the morning though…”
He nods, and we head back into the noise, where shots are being poured and the bar’s already sticky from spilled beer.
“It’s about time for the toast, Pres!” one of the brothers shouts.
I laugh, taking the shot Mac hands me, standing behind her with my palm on the small of her back.
“Here’s to a long life and a happy one. A quick death and an easy one. A good girl and an honest one. A cold pint and another one.”
The room roars back, glass hitting wood as the toast is echoed and the shots go down.
I wrap my arms around Mac from behind, resting my chin on her shoulder and pressing a kiss to the warm skin of her neck. “Let’s get you a drink.”
I never thought I’d have an old lady. Sure as hell never thought it’d be Mac. But I’d be lying if I said I’ve ever been happier. I hate that I pushed her away when I did, that we lost years. But I’m done losing time. I’m going to make up for every second.