18. Riley
Low voices are comingfrom the living room when we get back to the house, but this time, instead of steering me away so I don’t listen in, Dante leads me right toward them.
“Come on,” he says. “Madd should be done with his meeting with Payton and Isaac by now.”
He’s right. The girl who seemed to hate me so much and the other Reaper who came to report to Maddoc are both gone, and the only people in the living room now are Logan and Maddoc. Logan looks up as we enter, his eyes as flat and cold as always. Our gazes lock, and for just a second, something shifts in his expression—a barely-there tightening of his jaw that’s impossible to read.
My footsteps slow, and I’m sure my face is a lot more expressive than his is, despite the fact that I’m trying to maintain my best poker face. This is the first time I’ve seen him since last night, and my pulse skyrockets at the memory of his large, strong hand wrapped around my throat.
Then Logan looks away from me, breaking the loaded eye-contact between us as he shifts his attention back to Maddoc.
“McKenna would be a fool to risk it,” he says in that chilling, passionless way he has.
Are they talking about the West Point leader?
“Austin McKenna?” I blurt without thinking, desperate to find out anything that might help Chloe.
Logan’s eyes go even colder, and Maddoc’s lips press together, as if hearing Austin McKenna’s name leaves a bad taste in his mouth. But he sticks with his habit of being an asshole and answers Logan instead of bothering to acknowledge that I’ve spoken. “He’s not going to see it as a risk. He’s already got the girl, and he’s got no reason to think he needs to be cautious about flaunting it.”
My heart jumps in my chest, adrenaline surging through me. He has to be talking about Chloe, which means they’re really going to do it. They’re talking about how to help me get her back.
“McKenna is a fool,” Dante chimes in, sprawling out on the comfortable-looking leather couch and patting the spot next to him as he grins up at me. “Sit,” he says before turning back to Maddoc and Logan. “Did Isaac and Payton have anything we can use to fuck West Point with?”
“Dante,” Maddoc says in warning, shooting a hard look in my direction that I have no trouble at all interpreting.
He doesn’t want to talk about gang business in front of me.
“Yeah, I know.” The big tattooed man runs a hand through his hair, shoving the dark strands back from his face. “She’s not one of us. But she could be helpful if we loop her in. She’s earned this, Madd.”
He grabs my wrist and pulls me down next to him on the couch as if to punctuate those last words, then drapes his arm across the back of it, resting it behind me. He looks back and forth between Maddoc and Logan.
“So? Gonna fill us in?”
Maddoc’s eyes narrow, and Logan looks like he might crack a tooth if he clenches his jaw any harder. I don’t think either of them like the “us” part of that, and I have no idea why Dante is pushing for them to include me in this conversation, but I’ll take it.
“You’d already know what Isaac and Payton had to say if you’d stuck around,” Logan snaps at Dante. He jerks his chin in my direction without actually looking at me. “Where did you take her?”
Dante grins. “To lunch.”
“Breakfast,” I correct him under my breath, nudging him with my shoulder. “First meal of the day.”
He chuckles, flashing me his sexy as fuck grin. “Right. Breakfast.”
Logan definitely isn’t amused by our little inside joke. If anything, he somehow stiffens even more, cool annoyance radiating from him.
“So much for your loyalty to your sister,” he says bitingly, finally shifting his gaze to me. “You obviously don’t care about her as much as you’d like us to believe if you think fucking off to have ‘breakfast’ in the middle of the day is more important than planning how to get her away from West Point.”
His blunt words hit me like a punch to the chest, and I’m on my feet before I know it, anger lancing through me hard and fast. I curl my hands into fists, my voice raspy as I force words out past the sudden painful lump in my throat.
“That’s not fucking fair. You have no idea how much I love Chloe, you ice-cold psycho. If you’d ever loved anyone, maybe you’d have a clue what it means to lose your sister. But of course you don’t know. You’d have to have a fucking heart for that!”
I don’t know what I’m expecting from my little outburst. Maybe part of me hopes that Logan will show an ounce of empathy for once. I’d even be satisfied if he just looked a little bit guilty for blaming me for having lunch, when Maddoc already made it clear that the Reapers are going to take point on getting Chloe back, and that there’s nothing I can do to help.
But instead of softening, Logan’s face goes so still that he actually looks like he’s carved from stone. When he speaks, his voice is different than I’ve ever heard it, soft and dangerous in the manner of a predator that’s about to strike.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says, enunciating every word. “Don’t ever tell me who I’ve loved. You don’t know anything.”
The atmosphere of the entire room changes as silence fills the space, and my stomach twists itself into a knot. I want to glance at Maddoc or Dante to see how they’ve reacted to the sudden change, to read their expressions and try to get a handle on what just happened… but I’m afraid to drag my gaze away from Logan. There’s so much leashed emotion in him that part of me is certain that if I turn away from him, he’ll lunge like the predator he is.
The room stays quiet for a long, heavy beat, and then Maddoc clears his throat.
“Riley, why don’t you go to your room,” he says, phrasing it like a question but making it crystal clear that it’s not.
Shit. I don’t know quite why my words pissed Logan off so much, but I can’t let the fact that I lashed out get me kicked out of the room. I don’t know how much help I can be in whatever plan they put together to get Chloe back, but I’ll feel a hell of a lot better if I at least know what it is. If I know what they know and how they’re considering going up against West Point.
“No.” I shake my head, finally ripping my gaze away from Logan, although I can still see his face in my peripheral vision. “If the three of you are going to talk about rescuing Chloe, I want to stay… please.”
Maddoc’s lips press into a line, and I’m certain he’s about to say no. He already didn’t want me here, and after things got awkward with Logan, I’m sure he’s even less enthusiastic about having me around for their meeting.
“Please,” I whisper again, an ache of guilt building in my chest as I remember Logan’s words. They pissed me off, and it hurt so much because on some level, I feel like he’s right. I haven’t done enough. “I need to, Maddoc,” I plead. “I need to help. I need to get my sister back. I need to be a part of this.”
I’m not fighting with him this time. I’m not even asking. I’m begging.
His gray eyes glitter, his jaw working as he considers his answer for a long moment. Then he nods.
“Thank you.” I breathe, relief hitting me so hard that my legs wobble.
He just grunts, then goes back to all but ignoring me. But at least I’m here.
I settle back onto the couch, keeping my lips glued together and mostly just listening, trying to get caught up on where things stand with West Point. The three men bounce ideas off each other like a well-oiled machine as they discard and refine different options about how to find Chloe, and I listen intently to all of it, throwing in small bits of information where I can.
I can’t tell if Maddoc allowing me to stay is a sign that he’s starting to trust me or if it means the opposite, more along the lines of “keep your friends close and your enemies closer,” but either way, I’m grateful.
Better than that, I’m hopeful.
Because if the Reapers are truly planning on making a move soon, that means I’m finally one step closer to getting Chloe back from the monsters who took her.