45. Logan
My morning workoutsalways start at precisely 4:10 a.m., and while I work different muscle groups each day, each routine has a precise sequence that allows me to finish at exactly 5:59 a.m. Having control over my body is important to me, and the order this schedule launches my day with is even more so.
Which makes the fact that I should have been done ten minutes ago and just lost count of my reps again infuriating.
I bite out several quiet curses when I notice the clock. I can’t stop thinking about what happened with Riley last night, and I’ve gone through my entire workout with the distraction of an erection. It’s unacceptable.
My stomach grumbles, reminding me I’m now behind schedule for breakfast, but I ignore it and pick up a heavier kettlebell. My routine is already broken, but the most important thing now is to push myself hard enough to refocus my mind and stop replaying the feel of being buried inside a woman for the first time.
No, not just “a woman.”
Riley.
Now that I’ve had her, I want her again. What I told her is the truth. Sex has never felt necessary to me before. But Riley doesn’t just feel necessary, she feels disturbingly addictive now that I’ve had her and been invited to share her with my brothers.
But addiction is a weakness, and Riley is leaving.
The kettlebell slips out of my hand on the upswing, and I retrieve it with a string of quiet, vicious curses that shame me with my own lack of control.
From the moment Riley walked into our lives, I wanted her gone, but now that it’s set to happen, I’m on edge in a way that I can’t ever remember feeling before, my gut twisting in a distinctly unpleasant way that stirs the monster inside me, making me feel a little bit murderous.
I ruthlessly quell those feelings and work myself to exhaustion, then put the gym back to rights and head upstairs to complete my usual morning routine, determined to keep everything else predictable, even though I’m late with it.
Thoughts of Riley resurface once I’m in the shower, the soft warmth of her body and the breathy sighs as she clung to me making my cock swell with a speed and intensity that almost alarms me. I don’t… do this. I don’t feel out of control like this. Not ever.
I ignore the insistent throbbing of my shaft and the heat pooling in my spine and pretend I don’t still taste the phantom echo of Riley’s sweetness in my mouth, and by the time I head to the kitchen for breakfast, I’m myself again. Once I finish my omelet and toast, I set about making breakfast for the rest of them, and after a bit, the others all make their way into the kitchen.
Maddoc claps me on the shoulder, making a beeline for the coffee and Dante stifles a yawn as he pulls Riley close enough to nuzzle for a moment, jumping into the kind of easy banter he excels at.
Chloe holds herself a bit apart, but mumbles a quiet thank you when I hand her a plate. I look away when she starts to eat. The genuine appreciation on her face as she bites into the omelet I prepared is irritating me for some reason.
They’re leaving. Last night was… not something I have words for, but even though I can’t quite bring myself to regret it, I do know that the way it’s obviously changed things between my brothers and Riley—softened some edges and deepened the ties—is foolish. They’d be smart to keep themselves removed now that we’ve all had her. She’s leaving. Whatever existed last night, whatever it is that’s been growing ever since she came, is basically already over.
The handle of the empty mug I’m holding snaps off, the ceramic biting into my flesh. The four of them all look over.
“Okay there, Logan?” Dante asks with a little furrow in his brow.
“Fine.”
I turn away from them and clean up the pieces, assessing and then ignoring the scratch it gave me once I’ve rinsed off the minor beads of blood… the ones that bring to mind the way Riley’s blood beaded up so beautifully when she asked me to mark her again.
When she agreed to belong to us, even though she’s leav—
My phone pings, and I unclench my hands and snatch it up, grateful for the interruption to my spiraling thoughts.
It’s the results of Chloe’s DNA test, and for a split second, I almost delete it. Forwarding this confirmation to the executor of Sutherland’s estate will put the ball into motion, but there’s never been any point in avoiding the inevitable, so I conquer the weak impulse to manufacture a delay and swipe it open, letting my eyes quickly skim over the results while I start to plan out the next steps in helping Chloe claim her inheritance and seeing the Sutton sisters on their way.
Then I blink, my brain stuttering to a halt, and read through it again more deliberately.
“Logan?”
I look up. The question came from Maddoc, but they’re all four staring at me.
I hold up my phone. “Chloe isn’t the one.”
“The one what?” Chloe asks, her brow crinkling in a way that reminds me so much of her sister I have to look away.
“Your DNA isn’t a match for the Sutherland heir,” I tell her, my brain rapidly clicking through odds and impossibilities.
“What… what does that mean?” Chloe asks as Riley moves next to her and wraps an arm around her waist, hugging her close.
My brothers both look stunned, and I don’t blame them. I do not make mistakes.
“Could McKenna have sabotaged the results somehow?” Dante asks after a moment.
Maddoc makes a rude sound, and I have to agree.
“He’s not that sophisticated.”
“Are the results of these things always accurate?” Riley asks. “Maybe we just need to… to have her do it again?”
They’re all fumbling for answers, but I retreat from the conversation for a moment to mentally reexamine the facts. I don’t make mistakes… but sometimes, I do make assumptions.
“Riley,” I interrupt, drawing everyone’s attention. “It could be you.”
“What?”
“You need to take the test,” I tell her, already moving toward the supplies I’ll need to swab her according to the protocol. “I may have… misinterpreted things.”
“Walk us through it,” Maddoc demands grimly, an assessing gleam in his eye as he looks toward Riley.
I quickly sort through the medical supplies I have on hand and collect a fresh DNA kit from the multiples I ordered out of my usual habit of redundancy.
“William Sutherland’s daughter left her family and changed her last name, obscuring her identity,” I start. “The family took care to bury whatever scandal caused her to break with them, but I was able to document enough to realize that she had… a relationship.”
“With Frank,” Riley says in a faint voice.
I nod. “I knew that Frank Sutton had an affair. And when the Sutherland heir’s trail led to him, I thought…” I swallow, unexpectedly embarrassed to have to admit my failing. “I assumed that she was his mistress.”
“Wait, now you’re saying she wasn’t?” Dante asks, his brow furrowing.
“That’s what we’re going to find out,” I say grimly. “Because if Chloe isn’t the heir, then her biological mother wasn’t a Sutherland.”
“You think… mine was?” Riley asks incredulously, the shock on her face stirring something inside me that I quickly put a stop to. “You think Mom would have stayed with Frank if she came from something… better?”
“Not necessarily better,” I correct her, the thing I thought I put a stop to putting its claws into me. “Wealthier, yes. But I wasn’t able to find out why she cut ties with them. And—”
My throat spasms, as if trying to deny the sentimental words, the words of comfort, that want to come out.
“And?” Riley presses, looking at me with a desperate need for answers that wrench them out of me.
“And she did stay for something better. She stayed for you two.”
Riley’s eyes fill with tears, and Chloe stifles a sob. It’s incredibly uncomfortable… and yet it’s all I can do not to pull Riley against me the way she was after I came inside her body last night. To hold her and let whatever it is clawing me apart inside open my chest completely and make room for her there.
Instead, I remind myself again that she’s leaving, and quickly finish the DNA swab before calling in one of our crew to run it over to a guy I know who can run the test quickly.
Chloe and Riley speak in low voices, murmuring softly and comforting each other through the upheaval they must be feeling, but I turn away. One way or another they’ll need to leave, and feeding my addiction to the distracting emotions I’m swamped with will only cause more of the kind of pain I swore to myself I’d walked away from forever when I left my own monster of a mother’s home so many years ago.
I turn away, heading back toward the gym. If I work myself hard enough, my body’s exhaustion will make me numb to those kinds of distractions.
But Dante stops me with a smirk.
“Sometimes you just gotta fucking feel it,” he says quietly, knowing me too fucking well… including all my coping mechanisms.
I grit my teeth, wanting to be pissed at him for calling me out, but he’s right. I don’t need to bury this, I just need to get over it.
Instead of heading to the gym, I go up to my room and try to get some work done, resisting the urge to pester my contact about the test. He’s already being paid to rush it. Interrupting him isn’t going to speed that along.
Eventually, I give in to the urge to check on Riley, scrolling through the security cam footage until I find her and her sister in their bedroom. It’s easy to see how close they are. How tender Riley is with Chloe, and how much Chloe relies on her.
That kind of love, that kind of family, is more precious than anything. It’s why we have to let her go.
My chest aches, and eventually, I realize my eyes have gone dry and gritty as I watch them together. But wanting something out of reach has never changed a single damn thing, so I force myself to stop. I may have been wrong about Chloe’s parentage, but I’m not wrong that one of the sisters is the Sutherland heir, and as soon as we get that confirmation, Riley will leave.
Clenching my jaw, I drag my gaze away from the video feed of Riley’s room, and I don’t let myself look again… not until later in the day, when my phone finally pings with the result of her DNA test.