Chapter 51
After spending hours at the hospital, then several more in questioning, it’s well past midnight by the time we drag ourselves through the door of Logan’s loft. The exhaustion has left us barely standing.
When we step inside, Casper and Odin are passed out cold on the sofa—Casper sprawled on his back, one arm flopped out, one foot on the floor. Our pup takes up the rest of the space. When the door snicks closed behind us, both of them jolt awake.
We weren’t sure what was going to happen after getting a lawyer and talking with police, so Casper was on house-sitting duty until we returned.
Thankfully, we were released without issue but we’ll need to stick around until the investigation is closed.
I’m not concerned. There’s enough evidence at Piper’s house and her digital footprint is all over my phone.
Besides, the extension cord was an accident.
“Everything okay?” he asks through a yawn.
I nod, heading for the stairs.
“How ya feeling, Junior?”
I give him a thumbs-up; I’m not using my voice unless I have to.
“Fill you in on everything tomorrow,” Logan says. “You gonna crash here?”
He shakes his head, stands, and cracks his neck. “Nah, I gotta get home. Just glad you both made it out.”
It’s been two days, and neither of us has left the apartment other than to take Odin out for a walk.
Logan shut down the shop temporarily, and Frankie is rescheduling all the appointments at Black Rabbit for the next ten days due to a “burst water pipe.” I told him he should have said gas leak, but he didn’t seem to find the same humor in it I did.
This is the first day I don’t smell gasoline on me—finally we can lie in bed together without the slight sick scent between us.
We tried all the soap we had access to, then baking soda and vinegar, but in the end, it was lemons that did the trick.
Logan was so careful while helping scrub it over my skin, avoiding my wounds.
I see the way he looks at them, like they’re taunting him, and it breaks my heart.
He insists I stay in bed to let my body heal.
Most of the time, he reads beside me, but I can tell he’s distracted, it takes him too long to turn the pages.
I’m so grateful for him, more than I can put into words, but he’s not been the same since we got home. He’s been shuffling around the loft in silence, I’ve tried to cheer him up with jokes and memes, but he’s gone to a dark place. I hate it.
Odin snores softly from his bed, soaking up the late-day sun streaming through the large loft windows. I plan ideas for dinner in my head while Logan reads. Cooking is usually his thing, but maybe if I take care of dinner tonight, he’ll see I’m not as broken or helpless as he’s been treating me.
Logan sets his book and glasses on the nightstand and wraps his arms around my middle, drawing me close. I wince when he makes contact with my injured rib and instantly kick myself for reacting. He flinches, snatching his arm back like I’ve burned him. Shit.
“No, it’s fine. I’m fine,” I assure.
It doesn’t make any difference, he still retreats to his side of the bed.
Every time it happens, that vein in his neck twitches, and then he jerks away. When I’ve tried to close the gap between us, he stands and leaves the room. It’s been two days of this, and his rejection stings far more than my injuries do.
I strategically place a pillow under me to move into a comfortable position, then snuggle up on my side, my back to his front. I reach behind me and locate his arm to drape it over me the way he tried before, but he withdraws. And I let him.
The silence between us has never felt so suffocating.
I lie on my side, staring away from him, letting the room unfocus and the numbness eat away at my insides. Tears prick the corners of my eyes.
He sits up.
“Please don’t leave,” I whisper.
“What?” His voice is clipped, angry.
“Every time you pull away and I try to pull you back, you get up and walk away.” I ease myself upright, careful to not let any pain show as I turn, but his feet are already planted on the floor. I shift to kneel beside him on the mattress. “I need you.”
He scoffs.
“Did I do something to make you mad?”
Logan glances over his shoulder. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at myself!”
I roll my eyes. He can’t blame himself for what happened. “You didn’t know.”
“I should have.”
A laugh bursts out of me. “You couldn’t!” Neither of us knew until it was too late.
“I could have done more.”
“How?” I snap.
He doesn’t answer.
“Tell me, Logan,” I press. “What signs did you have pointing to her? I’ll wait.”
I give him a few seconds to think . . . Nothing.
“Exactly.” I cross my arms.
“My past almost killed you, Kelly,” he says, his voice wavering. “I couldn’t even save you that day, you had to save yourself.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I uncross my arms. “You did save me!”
He picks his feet off the floor and rotates to face me directly.
“She was pouring gasoline down your throat when I got there. I will never get that image out of my head.” His gaze carries a sadness deeper than I’ve ever seen in him.
“I never should have let you leave after work. I should have answered my office door when you knocked. I should have done a background check on the woman you met in Bozeman—”
“Logan.” I cup his jaw in my hands and tilt his face so he’s looking directly into my eyes. “I would be dead if you hadn’t shown up.” I don’t know how to make this any clearer to him.
He gives a wistful smile. “You did such a good job, Kelly. You were so fucking smart every step of the way. It was the breadcrumbs you left that saved you, it wasn’t me.”
“You’re starting to piss me off,” I blurt.
“Breadcrumbs don’t mean shit if they’re overlooked!
Breadcrumbs didn’t throw her off me, they didn’t cut my zip ties or carry me out of the house before I caught fire.
They didn’t strip off my clothes and rinse the gasoline from my skin.
They didn’t hold my hair when I threw up, they didn’t call an ambulance, and they certainly didn’t take the fall for that fire!
You act like you just stood by and watched from a distance.
You were with me every step of the way. You paid attention to every sign I left without hesitation—you took action, and that’s why I’m alive. ”
I push up on my knees and press my forehead to his. He palms my hips, his large hands heavy with intent. He doesn’t pull away this time—he leans in. His touch sends warmth to the parts of me numbed by dejection.
“You saved me.”
The tension leaves his body on an exhale, and he’s finally letting go of whatever stupid guilt he’s allowed to fester since we returned home. “Okay.”
“Okay? That’s it?”
He chuckles. “That’s all I have right now.”
“Is it?”
I lace my fingers behind his neck and squeeze three times.
The last time he’d done that to me was while tending to my injuries in a bathtub. It was so affectionate and tender that it made me question if I had actually heard him utter the words aloud.
For years he’s given me assurances on the back of my neck. However, it wasn’t until the other day that I understood their meaning. He didn’t save his love for last, he gave it to me before our lips ever brushed. Logan has always spoken with his hands, and he’s been giving his quiet love for years.
Our gaze tangles together, and we regard each other in silence; the anticipation has me holding my breath. We’re both thinking it, but I want to hear him say it.
He inhales slowly, letting his touch drift from my hips, up my back, and finally clasping my neck like he’s done a million times before, but this time it’s different.
His gruff exhale makes me smile. He knows what I want, and I’m calling his bluff.
A smile crosses his lips—it’s subtle, but it’s there, filled with relief and reverence.
His voice is low and gruff, masculine and steady. “I love you.”
The confession takes my breath away. Like he’s been holding it right behind his teeth for years and finally can let it out. “I love you too.”
His throat bobs once before he brings his lips to mine.