Chapter 12
CHAPTER
TWELVE
LOGAN
The first day back in the gym after vacation is brutal. My body protests every movement. It’s detoxing from days of eating garbage and consuming more sugar than any human should. Those fruity drinks were heaven. In fact, I’d go as far as saying they made the entire trip worth it.
Here in Michigan, I don’t normally order fruity beverages because, well, I’m a guy.
But when in Fiji, do as the Fijians—or the tourists—do, I guess.
I’m going to be dreaming about that pineapple mango one for weeks.
Regardless of how delicious it was, I can’t even imagine how much sugar each one contained, and I lost count of how many I drank.
The trip turned out to be a good time. I love hanging out with the guys on the team. I love eating even subpar food. And, as we’ve established, tropical fruity drinks are now my thing. The water was stunning. The beaches and palm trees were gorgeous. I really can’t complain.
But I’m glad to be back home.
And yes, I can’t wait to see her.
I don’t like the way things were left the last time.
Because of the possible bruise sighting, the note, the note in the trash, and how busy the shop was, I completely forgot to tell her I was leaving for vacation.
Now I’m wondering what she made of my absence.
I don’t want her to think I stayed away on purpose.
After a grueling workout when I sweat out what feels like twenty pounds of sugar, I’m showered and ready to get my caffeine fix. I haven’t had coffee in days.
I pull up to the shop and head inside. Thankfully, it’s not as busy as last time, which means I might actually get some quality time with my barista.
But the second I step inside, rage floods through me.
I’ve memorized every detail of Tessa’s beautiful face. She may have makeup covering it, but there’s no doubt in my mind—she’s hiding a black eye.
The heavy concealer is expertly applied, but I can still see the faint discoloration around her left eye. The slight puffiness beneath it. The way she’s angled herself so the light doesn’t hit that side of her face directly.
My hands curl into fists at my sides.
She’s behind the counter, talking to an older customer, her smile practiced and polite. But even from here, I can see the tension in her shoulders. The careful way she moves, like every motion costs her something.
I force myself to breathe. To unclench my jaw. To walk forward instead of turning around and hunting down whoever did this to her.
When she sees me, her smile falters for just a second before she forces it back into place.
“Hey,” she says, her voice a little too bright. “You’re back.”
“Yeah.” I step up to the counter, my eyes searching her face. “I’m back.”
“How was your trip?”
Her question throws me off because I don’t remember telling her I was going on a trip, but that doesn’t matter. “Fine.” I can’t take my eyes off her. Off the makeup that’s just slightly too thick on one side. “Tessa—”
“Your usual?” she cuts in, already reaching for a cup.
“Tessa, what happened to your eye?”
She freezes. Just for a second. Then she laughs, but it sounds hollow. “What? Nothing. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine.”
“Logan—”
“What happened?”
She glances around, checking to see if anyone’s listening. The shop is mostly empty except for a couple in the corner wearing headphones. Still, she lowers her voice.
“I ran into a cabinet door,” she says. “It was stupid. I wasn’t paying attention.”
“A cabinet door.”
“Yeah.” She turns away, grabbing the honey. “It happens.”
“Tessa—”
“Can we not do this right now?” Her voice is sharper now, edged with something that sounds like fear. “Please.”
I want to push. I want to grab her hand and tell her I know she’s lying. I want to remind her that I can help her if she’d just let me.
But the look in her eyes stops me.
She’s terrified.
Not of me. Of something—or someone—else.
I’m running through every scenario in my head and thinking over our options because—it’s time. No more daily chitchat, questions, and cheerful interactions. None of that matters when she’s going home to someone who is hurting her.
Before I can wrap my head around her way out or say anything else, the bell above the door chimes.
A man walks in. Tall, well-dressed, confident. He’s wearing an expensive suit, his hair perfectly styled, his smile polished.
And the second Tessa sees him, all the color drains from her face.
“Hey, babe. Thought I’d stop by and say hi.”
Preston.
It has to be.
Tessa’s entire body goes rigid. “Hi,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
Preston’s eyes flick to me, calculating. “Hey, aren’t you…?” Recognition dawns as he realizes who I am. He looks between Tessa and me, his eyes narrowed in assessment.
“This is the guy who signed your jersey,” Tessa says quickly, forcing a smile.
“Yeah.” Preston nods slowly. “The great Logan Wright. Interesting to see you here. I’m Preston Vale. Tessa’s boyfriend. Is there a reason you’re here?” He extends his hand.
I don’t want to shake his hand. Every instinct in me is screaming not to. But I do it anyway, gripping harder than necessary.
“For coffee.” There’s not an ounce of humor in my voice. “I assume that much would be obvious.”
Preston’s eyes narrow slightly, like he’s trying not to lose his temper. “It just seems odd that Tessa sees you at a signing event and now you’re here.”
“Is it? A guy needs his daily dose of caffeine. Not only is the coffee here the best but it’s only a few miles from the arena. Doesn’t seem odd to me, at all.”
I take in Preston and then Tessa, and nausea rolls through me.
There’s an anger humming beneath Preston’s skin that’s palpable—visible in the tight set of his jaw and the whiteness of his knuckles as his hand grips the edge of the counter.
Perhaps I should’ve kept my snarky comment to myself and played it cool. But I have no patience for this vile piece of shit before me, and I can’t pretend that I do.
Tessa is so still. She’s standing there like a statue, her chest barely rising with shallow breaths.
I know her well enough by now to recognize the signs.
The way her eyes have gone distant. The way she’s holding herself so carefully, like any sudden movement might shatter her. She’s utterly terrified.
I also know that this meeting—this confrontation between Preston and me—will not go unpunished.
The second they’re alone, he’s going to take his rage out on her. He’s going to hurt her because of me. Because I was here. Because I dared to speak to her. Because she looked at me with hope in her eyes, even for just a moment.
I can’t let that happen.
I’m not going to let her go home with this man tonight.
Maybe it’s not my place, and I’m crossing a line. I could be making this worse by inserting myself into a situation I don’t fully understand.
But I won’t allow her to be hurt on my account, which is exactly what will happen if she leaves with this monster.
One way or another, she’s leaving this place with me.
I pick up my phone and call Jaden. I could have called anyone on the team—they’d all drop whatever they were doing to help me—but Jaden feels like the right choice.
He’s married to an A-list celebrity, an actress who has undoubtedly dealt with her fair share of unstable people.
If anyone understands security, resources, or how to handle situations like this, it’s him.
After Jaden, I plan to call Penny, because there’s no problem that woman can’t solve.
“Hey, man,” I say when he picks up. “I need your help.”
“Of course,” he replies without hesitation. “What is it?”
“I need you to get a couple of the guys together.” I start to explain the situation when I spot Layla stepping out of a beat-up Honda a few spaces down. “Hey—wait. I’ll call you right back. I need to take care of something.”
“Okay,” he says, and I end the call.
I jump out of my car and jog toward Layla. “Hey,” I call out.
She looks back, startled, her hand frozen on her car door. Then recognition hits, and she smiles. “Hey,” she says, though her cheerfulness sounds forced. “What’s up?”
“It’s about Tessa.” I keep my voice low even though we’re alone in the parking lot.
She gives me a knowing look, her smile fading into something more serious. “Okay.”
“Do you know what’s going on with her and Preston?”
“I know enough.” She crosses her arms, her expression hardening. “I don’t know details. She refuses to share that part of her life with me, but if you’re asking, I’m assuming you know, too.”
I nod and fill her in on everything that’s happened today.
With each detail, Layla’s expression grows more troubled, her jaw tightening. When I finish, she blows out a breath and drops her chin in a nod.
“Yes,” she says firmly. “Absolutely yes. I’m on board. Whatever you need.”
I smile, some of the tension in my chest loosening. “Good. Because I’m getting her away from him today.”
“Music to my ears,” she says, and for the first time, I see hope flash across her face. “What do you need me to do?”
“When I text you, keep Preston distracted. Keep him inside. I’m going to wait out back in the alley. Send Tessa out with the trash or something. Give us a few minutes alone.”
Layla nods. “I can do that.” She hesitates, then adds, “Logan, you need to understand—he’s not going to let her go easily. He’s going to come looking for her.”
“I know.” My hands curl into fists at my sides.
“But I’m not letting her go back to him.
Please know that you’ll be safe, too. I’m going to send some of the guys to keep you company.
If Preston gets hostile, they’ll handle it.
They’ll stay there until you close up, make it to your car, and drive away safely.
Just play dumb. If Preston asks where she is, you have no idea.
You’re just as surprised that she didn’t return after she took out the trash.
Hopefully, he won’t suspect you had anything to do with it. ”
“I don’t care if he does,” she huffs out.
“While that may be true, it will be easier for everyone, Tessa included, if he doesn’t suspect you. I fear she’s going to have a difficult enough time as it is leaving him. Worrying about you will just make it harder.”
She studies me for a long moment, like she’s trying to decide whether I’m serious. Then she pulls out her phone. “Okay, you’re right. Give me your number.”
We exchange contact information, and she saves mine under a fake name—just in case Preston ever gets his hands on her phone.
“Thank you, Logan,” she says softly, her voice thick with emotion. “Until now, she hasn’t had anyone but me. Thank you for caring about my girl.”
I nod, my throat tight. “Back at you.”
Layla heads inside, and I watch until the door swings shut behind her. Then I pull my phone back out and call Jaden again.
He answers on the first ring. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Sorry about that. I needed to coordinate with someone.” I lean against my car, exhaustion suddenly hitting me. “Look, I need your help with something serious.”
“I’m listening.”
I take a deep breath and tell him everything. About Tessa. About Preston. About the plan to get her out tonight.
Jaden doesn’t interrupt. He just listens, and when I’m done, he’s quiet for a beat.
“You’re doing the right thing,” he says finally. “And yeah, I’ll help. I’ll get some of the guys together. I’m thinking we call Penny, and of course Anna will help. I think it’s a good idea to have some of the girls meet Tessa at your place, make her feel comfortable.”
Relief crashes over me so hard I have to close my eyes. “Yeah, good point. Thank you, man. Seriously.”
“No thanks necessary. You know that. However”—he pauses—“you know this could get messy, right? You ready for that?”
“Yeah,” I say without hesitation. “I am.”
“Good. I’ll text you when we’re on our way.”
We hang up, and I lean my head back against the car, staring up at the sky.
As I stand there, it hits me how lucky I am. I have more than a dozen people who would do anything for me at a moment’s notice. The task ahead of me is heavy, stressful—but I know we’ll figure it out because I have that kind of support.
What gets to me is the realization that Tessa doesn’t have that.
She has Layla. And that’s it.
I can’t imagine how alone she must feel. How terrifying it must be to wake up every day knowing that the person who’s supposed to love you is the same person you’re most afraid of.
But that changes tonight.
Tonight, she’s going to know what it feels like to have people on her side. She’s going to know she’s not alone anymore.