14. Logan
14
LOGAN
D on’t leave her alone.
Sit between her and him.
Always keep her in your sight.
Don’t let him touch her.
Grayson and Royce’s obnoxiously long list of rules for dummies circles around in my head as I pull through the gates and drive my SUV up the tree-lined drive of Bertram’s estate.
With one hand on Riley’s knee, I draw soothing circles on her skin. Not that it seems to be doing anything. Her knee has been bouncing the entire journey. As pumped as I am to give Bertram a virtual fuck you when he realizes whatever plans he has have been foiled, I’m equally as concerned about Riley’s mental state. I know she said she wanted to do this—that she needs to confront her mom, and I agree we need answers from her at this point—I worry about what the cost will be for my Shortcake. Every day without her daughter, she loses a piece of her soul. Now, she has to confront the Devil and his mistress? There’s no getting out of this unscathed, and I wish to fuck she didn’t have to be here at all.
Bringing the SUV to a stop in the circular drive at the front door, Riley stares out the window, her gaze roaming over the expansive, plantation-style house before I draw her gaze my way with a gentle caress of my fingers along her jaw. Her face is pale even beneath the makeup she applied before we left, and her eyes are wide with the fear she’s fighting to keep contained.
Everything in me demands I turn the car around and get her the fuck out of here. It was one thing her meeting them at a restaurant, but being behind a closed door with him again… it might be a different house, but the trauma is the same. No doubt, she’ll have nightmares after this fiasco. Yet, she’s still here. Ready to confront her greatest torment.
“You’re not the same kid you once were,” I tell her, sensing she needs to hear it. I could give her the out. Tell her we’re leaving. It’s what Grayson would do. However, I know nothing will stop my girl from entering that house. All I can do is ensure she goes in there confident and strong. “You’ve faced so much since then.” I carefully stroke my fingers down her cheek, ensuring her focus remains on me. “This time, you’re not alone. We’re all in this together. You’re stronger than you know, and you have the power to do this. Just remember why we’re here.”
“Aurora,” she murmurs, her voice shaky before she takes a steadying breath.
I nod. “Aurora. We’ll get the answers we need, and I’ll be beside you every step of the way.” Closing the distance, I press my lips to hers in a chaste kiss, reassured when the fear in her eyes steadily solidifies until all I can see is her strength and determination. “There she is,” I murmur, tracing my fingers along her jaw one final time. “My warrior.” I grin savagely, letting the wild, ruthless side of myself I typically keep contained to the ice come out to play. “Let’s go cause some mayhem.”
Her responding grin is music to my ears as I climb out of the SUV and round the front to open her door and help her down. With every step toward the front door, I feel her growing stronger, building her resolve and solidifying her defenses. By the time I knock on the door, she’s an impenetrable fortress of fire and purpose.
“For Aurora,” I whisper as I hear footsteps approaching from inside the house.
“For Aurora,” she responds as the door is thrown open, and I finally face the Devil himself.
I’ve never met Grayson’s dad before. Still, I instantly know it’s him who answers the door, wearing an impeccable three-piece suit and looking like he’s just returned from a day of business meetings at the office—which makes no fucking sense since he’s no longer CEO, but whatever.
He’s the spitting image of Grayson… or, I guess, Grayson is the spitting image of him. Their features are strikingly similar, from the dark brown of their hair and eyes to the curve of their cheekbones and the angle of their jaws. Even their facial expressions match, and it strikes me that Grayson has perfected his father’s impassive mask. The difference is, with Grayson, it is exactly that… a mask—a cover to hide his true emotions.
I instantly know it’s not the same for Bertram as I stare into those cold, dead eyes. There are no emotions to hide. A sick, twisted predator peers out from behind those frigid irises, one incapable of feeling human emotions. One entirely consumed with fulfilling their wants and desires.
As his gaze latches on to his ultimate desire and his eyes flare with want, it takes everything in me not to drag Riley behind me and out of his exploitative view.
He doesn’t even seem to see me standing there as his lips curl in triumph. “Riley.” He practically purrs her name, and I swear on the Stanley Cup that one day I will rip his tongue from his mouth so I never have to hear her name on his lips ever again. “It’s so good to see you again. I’m looking forward to our intimate meal together.”
Yeah, I’ve had enough of this fucking bullshit.
Sliding my arm around Riley’s waist, my hand rests dangerously low over her hip bone as I pull her into my side. All the while, I keep my focus on the monster in front of us as he finally sees me standing there. His gaze drops to where I’m touching Riley, nostrils flaring before his eyes snap to mine.
I don a charming, charismatic smile, ignoring the threats practically spilling from his glower. “So am I, Mr. Van Doren.”
“Who are you?” His lips curl in a sneer. “And why are you touching my daughter?”
“Well, she is my girlfriend.” Drawing Riley closer, I keep my gaze locked on Bertram’s as I kiss her temple before holding out a hand toward him. I take great satisfaction in seeing him so murderous. “I’m Logan Astor. Boyfriend.”
Teeth grinding, he ignores my outstretched hand as his gaze snaps to Riley. “Since when do you date ?”
“Since me,” I answer with a cocky smirk before Riley can form a response. “It’s hard to resist this charm. Although this one really made me work for her attention.”
Finally looking away from Bertram, my soft gaze rests on the side of Riley’s head until she turns to face me. I coax her with my eyes to relax. To not let Bertram win by seeing that he has her on edge. She forces the tension from her muscles as she smiles lovingly at me. Her eyes shine with gratitude and a little bit of mischief as she retorts, “Well, what can I say? I needed to make sure you were serious.”
“What part of me serenading you in front of the entire campus said I wasn’t serious? Or the love poem I wrote for you. That was some of my best rhyming!”
Lips between her teeth, Riley is struggling to contain her laughter. “Your best rhyming, huh? Guess it’s just as well you’re not an English major.” She taps a finger against her lips. “Although… are you sure marketing is where your strengths lie?”
I growl playfully at her, pretending I’m not entirely aware of Bertram glaring at us as I tickle her sides and nip at the flesh of her neck. She writhes against me, momentarily distracted from this awful night, as she squeals and giggles. “That’s how it is, eh?” I torture her with my fingers until she’s laughing uncontrollably, having wholly forgotten whose presence we are standing in. I, however, have not. “I’m deadly serious when it comes to you.” I ensure those words are loud enough for Bertram to hear, but instead of looking to see his reaction, I focus on the angel in my arms as I squeeze her tighter and hold her gaze, hoping she knows that while all of this is just for show, I mean those words right down to my core.
We only break eye contact when the asshole coughs, probably done with the attention not being on him. “As… insightful as this is,” he drawls, looking thoroughly unimpressed, “Tonight is a family dinner. You can see Riley another time.”
My lackadaisical smile solidifies in place. Fuck.
“Oh.” Riley frowns, her lower lip pushing out in a slight pout. “I already had plans with Logan when I got the last-minute call from Mom. I figured bringing him would be okay, but we can do dinner some other time.” Grabbing my hand, she moves back toward the car.
We make it all of two steps before Bertram’s irritated sigh reaches my ears. “Don’t be so dramatic. He can stay.” Riley stiffens, the move barely perceptible if I wasn’t watching her with a keen eye. My fist curls, my desire to deck the asshole potent, but when I turn back to face him, he’s stepped out of the doorway. Although his intent gaze bores into mine with blatant distaste. “Will be good for all of us to get to know Logan better.”
With a tense posture and alert eyes, I follow Riley into the house, keeping my hand at the base of her spine, just above the waistband of her jeans. The click of the door closing behind us echoes through the room like the resounding clang of a prison cell, a sharp, metallic finality that sends shivers skating down my spine. The heavy thud reverberates around the foyer, bouncing off the walls and sealing us in with an unnerving sense of permanence. If that’s how it feels to me, I can’t begin to imagine how trapped Riley feels right now. Her breath catches beside me, her eyes darting around the expansive, white-painted foyer as if searching for an escape route. The air grows thick with her trepidation, the anxiety of being locked up with a predator, and I brush the backs of my fingers along her arm in a subtle I’m right here .
Her eyes lock with mine, and she takes a fortifying breath, forcing herself to calm before we follow Bertram through to a grand dining room. The table is set for three, and as we enter the room, a maid sets a fourth place setting before scurrying away.
The room is eerily empty, our footsteps echoing as we cross to the table. Bertram claims a seat at the head of the table and gestures to the seat on his right for Riley to sit. Ignoring him, I pull out the chair on the newly set place setting, getting Riley settled before taking the spot beside her, placing myself between them.
Bertram’s face contorts, and smoothing his tie, he clears his throat. “So.” He drags out the word, glaring at me with contempt. “How did you two… meet?”
He doesn’t sound the least bit interested in the story, which is exactly why I regale him with every minute detail of how Riley tutored me and I flirted my way into her heart, winning her over with my persistent charm and endearing smile. He peppers me with more questions about our relationship and me, and any time he tries to include Riley in the conversation by directing a question her way, I answer it for her.
“Where is my mother?” Riley asks when the fake politeness grows strained.
Bertram waves a dismissive hand toward the doorway. “Running late, as usual.”
Plates of steaming food are placed before us, and I’m beginning to wonder if Lydia even intends to make an appearance when I hear the clack of heels against tiles before she enters the room.
“Apologies for my tardiness,” she states, not sounding the slightest bit sorry about potentially leaving her daughter alone with her abuser. She scans the room, and when she spots me sitting beside her daughter, a coy smile curls her lips, and her steps slow, her hips swaying in what I can only presume is meant to be a seductive swagger. It only makes me grateful I hadn’t eaten anything yet. It would be incredibly rude to barf at the dinner table in front of my future in-laws.
Well damn. Now, I wish I had eaten so I could see their faces when I ruined their pristine tablecloth. What a first impression that would be!
Riley digs her elbow into my ribs, giving me a quizzical look, and I realize I’m smiling.
“This is Riley’s boyfriend,” Bertram informs her, presumably answering a question I missed.
“Boyfriend?” Lydia muses, grinning far too lasciviously. Instead of moving around the table to shake my hand, she leans across it, shoving her tits right in front of my face. Despite the inappropriateness, there’s an astuteness to her gaze as it rakes over me. “Who knew my daughter had such good taste in men,” she practically purrs before her gaze snaps to Riley. “Riley, you never told me you had a boyfriend.” While she goes for teasing, there’s an unmistakable chastisement beneath her tone that makes me wonder if she suspects I’m the one responsible for the lawyer’s letter she received. Of course, she can’t blatantly say as much—not with Bertram in the room.
“It all sounds very… new ,” Bertram states, appearing unperturbed by his wife’s promiscuous behavior as he sips his wine. “Logan is a senior at Halston, so I doubt it will go anywhere beyond his graduation.”
Ha. You shitstain, I plan on marrying this girl one day, so fuck you.
Instead, I give him another one of my classic cocky smirks as I lean my arm over the back of Riley’s chair. My fingers play with a loose strand of her hair, and my smirk grows when Bertram’s focus zeros in on that little bit of contact.
“I dunno. Riley’s a pretty special girl.”
His smile definitely resembles more of a grimace as he tears his eyes away from where I’m entwining Riley’s hair around my finger while she delicately picks at her meal, like touching her is something I do all the time. I mean, it is, but I fucking love seeing that realization settle in Bertram’s eyes.
“That she is,” he agrees between gritted teeth. “But you’re an Astor, right? I assume you’ll be joining your family’s marketing business.”
“Actually, I’ll be staying right here in Springview. I’ve got a spot on the Timberwolves ice hockey team, and I’m looking forward to seeing my girl in the front row of every game.”
Riley’s head whips to mine, questions dancing in her eyes. Yup, baby, I will be right here for the next three years while you finish college. Except, that’s a conversation best had in private, so for now, I merely wink at her before returning my focus to the two pythons in the room.
“A hockey player.” Bertram scoffs, seeming to relax for the first time all evening. “You’ll barely be here for half the year, and even when you are, you’ll have those… what do they call them? Puck bunnies? Climbing all over you after every game. You’re young, believe me, you’ll realize there’s an entire world of opportunities out there. No need to tie yourself down so quickly.”
Riley tenses beneath my arm, but I merely shrug. Not seeing the point in arguing with him—‘cause I truly don’t give a fuck what this guy thinks, and despite whatever insecurities he might have poked at in Riley, she knows how much I love her—I take a bite of my food.
The first course is soon replaced with the second. Bertram seems to have checked out of the conversation, his attention either on his glass of wine or Riley while his wife asks me various verging-on-inappropriate questions about me and the Halston U hockey team. When she suggests joining Riley at our next home game, I merely give her a tight-lipped smile and make a mental note to ensure security never grants this viper access to the stadium.
It’s only when the plates have been cleared from the table that Bertram leans forward, interlocking his fingers and pinning Riley with a stare that has her squirming in her chair.
“Riley.” His sharp tone demands her attention, even as he flicks his gaze to mine. A flash of what looks like sympathy enters his eyes before he reverts his attention to Riley. I know this asshole isn’t capable of feeling fucking sympathy, and I’m instantly on edge, wondering what’s about to come next. Riley, who has been mostly silent throughout the entire meal, goes eerily still. “The whole point of this dinner is because, well”—another apologetic glance my way that has my hackles rising—“we’re worried about you.”
“Worried about me?” Riley queries, sounding as confused as I feel. “Why?”
“I have spoken with your advisor, who has informed me that your grades have slipped this semester. That, and your landlord tells me you haven’t been staying at your apartment.” Bertram’s features crease in faux concern. Damn, this guy is good! “I don’t know how much you’ve told Logan, but given your history...” Riley physically flinches, and my teeth grind, hating how this fucking pissant is getting to her. “We’re worried you might be slipping back into… unhealthy habits.”
“Unhealthy habits?” I’ve never heard Riley’s voice so small, and it snaps the end of my restraint.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I demand, moving my arm to rest on Riley’s shoulders so my fingers graze her arm.
Sighing in a way that makes it seem like this is the last thing he wants to be doing, Bertram shifts to face me. “I don’t know what Riley has told you, but she is a very troubled child.” His face is the perfect blend of sympathy and grief. “She has a history of attention-seeking behavior, and I fear she’s heading down that path again.”
“Because her grades have slipped slightly, and she’s been spending her nights with me?” My eyes narrow, ensuring he knows I’m not buying his bullshit. Unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do to counter her lowered grades this semester. What the fuck else would one expect when their daughter is effectively missing? Of course, he can’t fucking know that… “Everyone’s grades slip during the second semester,” I counter instead. “First semester eases you in, then they up the ante. Plus, students can take a while to settle into an effective routine.”
Shaking his head, Bertram all but dismisses me, focusing his attention back on Riley. His eyes flare with something that looks uncannily like triumph. “Regardless, we have decided it’s in Riley’s best interest to move back home.”
If I thought Riley was tense before, she turns to fucking stone beneath my arm, and my first thought is to get her the fuck out of this house before Bertram literally locks her up in a room.
My gaze flicks to Lydia’s, catching the shock on her face before she disguises it. Interesting, so she wasn’t aware of her husband’s plan. Not that that means she’s innocent in any of this. She’s far from fucking innocent!
Focusing back on Bertram, I scoff. “That’s absurd. Riley’s a grown woman.”
“Son,” Bertram says in the most condescending tone I’ve ever heard. “With all due respect, you have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself involved in. You seem like a nice guy, but Riley is unstable.” I swear steam blows from my nostrils. “She has self-harmed in the past and even tried to commit suicide.”
“I’m fully aware of the trials Riley has overcome in her past,” I snap before I’ve thought through what I’m saying. Fuck.
“Then you’ll understand our concerns,” Bertram presses. However, his lips are pursed, and his tone is less sympathetic and more wary now.
“I understand that you’ve been in prison the last four years, and she has no relationship with her mother, so as far as I can see, neither of you are in a position to speak to Riley’s best interests.” I pin both fucking parasites with my furious gaze. “ Riley is the only one who gets to determine what she does with her life.”
At some point, Riley’s hand finds mine under the table, and I squeeze her fingers. She returns the gesture before her soft voice joins the conversation. “He’s right.” I can hear the nerves in her voice, but I’m pretty sure I’m the only one. The rest of her oozes pure strength as she lifts her head to face her mom and stepdad. “I’m done with the pretenses. I want no part in this game, and I’d sooner die than live under the same roof as either of you.” Pushing back her chair, she gets to her feet, and I join her. “I believe that’s the end of dinner. We won’t be doing this again—ever.”
With that, she strides away, and with a smirk on my face, I wiggle my fingers in farewell before striding after her.
The second we’re out of view, I pull her in against me and push her against the wall. “That was so fucking hot,” I murmur against her lips. Her eyes are wide, and there’s a slight tremble to her limbs, even as she gives a nervous laugh. “Are you okay?”
Sagging against me, she nods. “It felt good to stand up to him. If it hadn’t been for Aurora, I wouldn’t have played along at all.”
I brush hair out of her face. “I know, Shortcake.”
The sound of arguing reaches our ears, and we fall silent as we both strain to listen.
“You wanted her to live here?!” Lydia screeches.
Bertram’s retort is too low to hear, but the vitriol behind the words is impossible to miss before we hear the clip of his shoes as he walks away.
“Trouble in paradise already,” I whisper.
“We knew they only got back together because they were using each other,” Riley says, her voice just as quiet.
I nod, searching her eyes. “What do you want to do now?”
Sighing as though she’s carrying the weight of the world, Riley rests her forehead against my chest. “We can’t leave until I speak to my mother,” she murmurs after a moment. “That was the whole point of enduring this disaster.”
I rub soothing circles up and down her spine. “Alright. Do you want me to come with you?”
With another exhausted sigh, she straightens, debating my question before shaking her head. “I’m more likely to get something useful from her if it’s just us.”
Grayson’s rule to not leave her alone filters through my head, and I give it—and him—a mental middle finger. This is Riley’s call, and if this is how she wants to play it, then that’s what we’ll do. Besides, it’s not like I’m going to walk outside and leave her alone in here.
“I’ll be right here,” I promise her.
“Thank you,” she murmurs gratefully, pressing up on her toes to bring her lips to mine in a too-quick kiss before she strides back into the dining room for the night’s second battle.
While I wait, I get comfortable leaning against the wall at the entrance to the dining room, just out of Lydia’s sight, and pull my phone from my pocket. I’ve got a plethora of messages from the guys on the team.
Gavin
Tonight’s win wasn’t the same without you.
Rickman
Win, baby!
Barnes
You coming to the after party?
There are even more in the group chat with the team, with everyone congratulating themselves and going back and forth as they argue over where to go. Coach was so furious after last week’s game that he didn’t even want me sitting on the bench tonight. I already knew I wouldn’t be playing before he called me into his office to ream me out. I was already on a warning after missing a game, so I completely understood Coach’s decision to bench me after my antics last week.
Hell, I don’t even care. My head’s not in the game, just like Riley’s focus isn’t on studying. None of us can steer our attention to anything besides getting Aurora back.
That’s partly why I never told anyone about the phone call I got last week from the owner of the Timberwolves. The excitement I thought I’d feel at getting that call wasn’t there. The only reason I even brought it up tonight was to shove it in Bertram’s face. I grimace, knowing Riley is going to be pissed . She should have been the first person I told—not that asswipe who doesn’t even matter.
My head falls back against the wall, and pushing aside my own problems, I listen in on the whooping Riley is hopefully giving her mom…