Chapter 36
CHAPTER 36
Logan’s Jeep rolled into the lot with a deliberate slowness, as if the man behind the wheel was measuring every inch of the parking lot.
He parked near the back, leaving the engine running, then listened to it ticking over as he leaned forward, gripping the wheel, knuckles pale in the dim interior.
The neon glow of the sign above the club pulsed through his windshield and for a long moment Logan just sat there.
His face looked like it was carved from stone as he pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pocket, shaking one loose and striking a match. The flare of orange illuminated his face briefly and then settled into a faint ember as he took a drag.
It was an old habit that refused to die and as the cigarette dangled from his lips, the smoke curled through the open window, twisting into ribbons before escaping into the night air.
He’d told himself he wouldn’t follow—hell, Ethan could make his own damn choices. But here he was at almost midnight, parked outside the club like some washed-up detective in a noir film.
He stared at the entrance, imagining Devon inside, Ethan’s defiance crumbling under that bastard’s touch. “Fucking idiot,” he muttered, his hand clenched into a fist on his thigh.
He couldn’t shake the image playing on repeat in his head of Devon’s slick grin and those snake-like eyes that always seemed to find weaknesses. Just the thought of it made his jaw tighten until it ached.
He’d go in there—not to fight or drag Ethan out, but to watch. To make sure he was ok. He reminded himself. But if that bastard so much as looked at Ethan wrong… if he crossed the line, he wouldn’t hesitate—not this time.
He took another drag from the cigarette, letting the burn sear away some of his hesitation.
What the fuck am I doing here? Watching? Protecting? Or interfering because he couldn’t let go?
The truth gnawed at him like an old wound that hadn’t healed.
He hated that Ethan mattered this much—hated that he couldn’t stay away even when he knew he should. But more than that… he hated Devon for knowing exactly how to pull him back into his orbit every damn time.
The Jeep door groaned as he shoved it open and stepped outside. He tossed the cigarette into the gravel, watching the ember instantly die out, swallowed by darkness. Loose stones shifted under his boots, and he adjusted his stance, rolling his shoulders like a man preparing for battle, or maybe just bracing for what came next.
The air was heavy with the weight of the rain that hadn’t yet fallen, and a low bass thrummed from the club, vibrating through his chest, beckoning him inside.
He hesitated for a beat, one last chance to turn around and drive away before things got messy. But then he thought of Ethan… head down, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets as he’d walked out of the bar earlier. And Devon… waiting for him like a monster in the night.
That thought… was all it took.