Chapter 32
32
LOGAN
T oday is the day Criminal Records broke up.
No official word yet, but it’s only a matter of time. Any minute now, I expect Katrina to come through that door, her head bowed, her eyes puffy with tears.
It’s over , she’ll say.
And I’ll comfort her. I’ll hold her. I’ll tell her there’s a place for her here with me. She’ll stay, maybe, and I’ll have to look into her eyes… knowing what I know and hating myself for it.
And Paul Monroe will get everything he wants.
I splash cold water on my face. Then I glare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror.
This was no victory.
But... at least Tesla is safe.
The door to my suite opens. I dry my face and hands as I step out of the bathroom, my heart already halfway to the floor. I hope it’s her. I hope it’s not her.
It’s her.
Katrina enters quietly, but when she sees me, she smiles. “Hey,” she says, letting the door fall shut behind her. “Sorry. I still have your room key, so I figured I could just come in, which... now feels a little presumptuous.”
“If I didn’t want you crawling into my bed at all hours, I wouldn’t have given it to you, kitty.”
Her cheeks blush. “Well, I’ll hold on to it, then.”
“Please do.”
I toss the towel aside and step into the room, closing the space between us as I study her face. Her eyes. I look for cracks. For pain that… isn’t there.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Yeah. A bit tired, but not overly so.” She shrugs off her jacket and tosses it onto the bed. “Why?”
“You seemed worried when you left this morning.”
“Ah, yeah.” She nods. “I was. But it’s all good now.”
“All good?”
“Well… not all good,” she says. “Things got pretty bad for a few minutes, but… we’re gonna get through it.”
She steps closer, and my arms open instinctively, wrapping around her. Her scent hits me, warm and sweet.
My mind spins, trying to catch up.
“You’re gonna get through it?” I repeat, pulse rising.
That means…
Criminal Records is still together.
Which means…
Monroe.
“Yup,” Katrina murmurs, her face nestled against my chest. “The Battle of the Bands is a-go.”
“How?”
She tilts back, meeting my gaze. “How what?”
“How are you still together?” I blurt, making her brows rise. “I mean… they’re okay with this? With us?”
“Not exactly,” she says, staying close. “My brother and I probably won’t be on speaking terms for a while. The others aren’t thrilled either. They have some trust issues with you and the girls, but who could blame them?”
“Then how are you getting through it?”
Katrina smiles. “Jonah.”
“Jonah?” I blink. “You called him?”
“No, he came back.”
My stomach tightens with unease. “I thought he wasn’t coming back until right before Halloween.”
“He wasn’t. But then he saw what was going down here—thanks, Gossipa —and he and Marla came back early.” She exhales, relief in her voice. “Good thing, too. If he hadn’t shown up when he did, we might not even have a band anymore.”
Damn.
The Botsford boy comes to the rescue.
I step back, letting my weight drop to the edge of the bed. “Well… it’s good he’s back, then.”
“Yeah.” She plops down beside me. “It was incredible. He knew exactly what to say to bring us all back together.” She grins. “It’s easy to forget, but he is a Botsford.”
“Yeah, well,” I say, stiffly, “Jonah the Rich and Famous probably isn’t lacking much in charisma.”
Katrina leans back, that teasing smile blooming. “Logan, are you jealous of Jonah?”
“Should I be?” I stare at her as the floor threatens to fall out from under me. “Are you still in love with him?”
She pauses. “Part of me is always going to love Jonah,” she says carefully. “He’s one of my best friends.”
“I didn’t ask if you love him,” I say. “I asked if you’re in love with him.”
The silence stretches. Long. Heavy.
“Logan—”
I stand. “That’s a yes.”
“It’s not.” She catches my hand before I can get too far. “Logan, it’s not a yes. But it’s not a no, either. Someday, I’ll have a simple answer for you. But today…” She squeezes my hand. “Before, whenever Jonah walked into a room, it was like time would slow down. My heart would skip. My stomach would flutter. But that feeling?” Her eyes lock on mine. “It’s nothing compared to what I felt waking up in your arms this morning.”
The sharp grief trying to claw through my chest eases. Not all the way. Just enough to breathe.
“You don’t have to worry, Logan.” She smiles, her thumb grazing my hand. “I’m yours.”
When she tugs on my hand, I have no choice but to follow her back down. I kiss her, the echo of her words radiating through me, fusing my soul to hers.
She’s mine.
And I’m hers.
“I love you, Katrina,” I whisper against her skin.
Her breath hitches. “I love you, too, Logan.”
I shake my head slightly. Part of me didn’t expect her to say it back. Part of me hoped she wouldn’t—that maybe it’d scare her off. But her kiss deepens, not with fear, but with something fierce and full of fire.
She pulls back, scanning my face like she sees something flickering behind my eyes. “What’s wrong?” she asks.
“Nothing,” I say, forcing it down. “Just relieved. I thought I’d be spending the night drying your tears.”
“So did I,” she says softly, her eyes bright. “But when we win The Battle of the Bands, I’ll be happy to dry yours .”
“If you win,” I tease.
She narrows her eyes at me, smug and defiant. “ When we win,” she says, kissing me again. “Until then, I’m basically locked in all-day band practice through Sunday.”
“So am I,” I say. “Priscilla’s back in town, so…”
“So the next few days are going to be a blur of epic training montages set to rock music?”
I chuckle. “Yeah.”
She sighs, dramatic. “Then we probably won’t see each other again until the meeting with Pam on the 30th.”
The way she says it—it drips with longing. With heat.
I lean into it, letting her pull me under. Letting go of everything that could unravel me if I let it.
“Does that mean you have to leave?” I ask, our noses brushing.
She smiles. “Not right away.”
Katrina lies back on the bed.
I follow her down, needing to lose myself in her. Maybe for the last time.
In the morning, I kiss her goodbye.
I watch her go.
I wait for Monroe to come knocking.
It takes longer than I expect.
After days of grinding, of polishing our set until every note cuts like glass, I return to my hotel room.
“Logan,” Monroe says the second I walk in. “Close the door.”
I obey. There’s no use in running or arguing. As the door clicks shut behind me, I stay close to it, my pulse ticking up with every breath.
Monroe is sitting in the chair by the window. The curtains are wide open, letting the neon glow from The Strip spill in, pulsing against his face. The shifting lights only deepen the anger carved into his jaw as he glares at me.
“You’ve been out a while,” he says.
I nod once. “Still prepping for the Battle.”
No use pretending otherwise. That’s why he’s here.
“Ah, yes. The Battle of the Bands,” he says, fingers steepled, brushing the edge of his beard. It’s scruffier now, like he doesn’t bother with grooming much anymore. “Two of the hottest bands in the country, duking it out for rock supremacy. That Battle of the Bands?”
“Yes.”
“Well... that can’t be right.” His smile is empty, teeth bared like a warning. “Because you told me that was over. And yet, everywhere I turn, I see the hype. Halloween night. Criminal Records versus The Electrics. In Las fucking Vegas, Nevada.”
“Listen,” I say, taking a step forward. “I can explain?—”
“Can you?!”
Monroe explodes from the chair, sending it toppling against the window. I flinch, backing up, expecting him to stop, but he flies toward me. He fists the front of my jacket, dragging me toward me.
“Can you explain to me, Logan,” he growls, his face inches from mine, “why you thought it would be smart to lie to me?”
“I didn’t lie,” I say, my voice hoarse. “I really thought... once they found out about us...” I falter. The guilt turns molten in my chest, burning me alive. “I thought it’d be enough.”
“Then do more.”
“I can’t.”
His eyes twitch. “You can’t ? Or you won’t ?”
“I can’t,” I repeat, the words scraping out of me. “You don’t get it, Monroe. Criminal Records... they’re unbreakable. The show goes on, no matter what.”
“Everybody has a breaking point, Logan,” he says through his teeth, voice low and dangerous. “And I’ve just about reached mine.”
He shoves me backward. I stumble until my spine slams into the wall while he pulls his phone from his back pocket.
“Please,” I say. “Monroe, we can work this out. We can find another way.”
“There is no other way,” he says, not even looking at me as he swipes through his contacts.
“What do you want?” I beg. “Money? Every penny I’ve got, it’s yours.”
He snorts. “You’re not worth a fraction of what I’ve got in this, kid.”
“Take anything. Do whatever you want to me, just—just leave Tesla alone. Please.”
His eyes barely flick up. “Sorry, Logan.”
He hits CALL and raises the phone to his ear.
Panic clutches my chest, tight and paralyzing. I can’t breathe. Can’t think. There’s nothing else I can do. No card left to play that would rip Criminal Records apart.
Unless—
“I can do it!” I shout, lifting my begging hands. “Give me another chance. I’ll get it done.”
Monroe glares at me, the phone still ringing in his hand. “Heard that song already.”
“I know,” I say. I hear the call connect—a voice on the other end. “But there’s... there’s something else I can try. It’ll work.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
He studies me for a long, awful beat. Then he lowers the phone and ends the call without a word.
“All right,” he says, too calm now. A terrifying kind of calm. “You’ve got one more chance, Logan.”
A shaky breath escapes me. “Thank you.”
“But I’ve got zero patience left,” he adds. “You’ve got until midnight tomorrow to get it done. Or Little Miss Tesla leaves Las Vegas in handcuffs.”
“Yes, sir,” I say, my heart shattering.
Monroe flashes a grin—empty, cold, unhinged . “Good boy,” he says.
He turns and walks out.
As the door clicks shut, I drop onto the edge of the bed, too hollow to stand anymore. The weight of it all presses down on me, pinning me in place.
My phone vibrates in my pocket.
I fish it out, hand trembling.
Kitty
I miss you.
God. I miss her, too.
I’m going to miss every piece of her until the end of my days.