1
Logan
“Seriously, Damien? This couldn’t have been an email?”
“Nah. Why take up five minutes of your time when I can take up three hours of it?”
I sigh and lean back in my chair, cracking my knuckles. “You’re crazy if you think I’d spend five whole minutes reading an email of yours.”
I reposition my computer screen to prevent the glare from the sun outside of my office window.
Then I sweep my eyes around my empty room.
I miss the times when Damien would spend hours in the chair opposite my desk, chatting about everything and anything, and occasionally getting some business done.
He used to be very good at that—getting business done while chatting.
Before I even had time to blink, he’d sign business deals while cracking jokes about the weather, or so it seemed.
But then, I was never allowed to participate in Devil business before.
I’ve been on a strict timeout ever since I made one too many jokes about the governor of the state and nearly lost us that powerful ally.
Of course, things changed ever since Damien fell head-over-heels for a girl.
I’m glad he’s finally found love with Seraphina, but I don’t like having so much power.
I don’t like being forced to make decisions.
I’d rather spend my time focusing on easing the pain in whatever’s left of my heart with snide remarks, and watching my destructive behavior piss off important people.
Sometimes I wonder if Damien understands. He always used to read me, but lately, he’s become far too preoccupied with his girl.
“Glad you’ve torn yourself away from Seraphina’s pussy long enough to have this meeting in any case,” I drawl.
He scowls at me. “You’re lucky you’re my friend, Logan, or I’d beat the shit out of you.”
“Hmm. You have my permission to beat the shit out of me whenever you like. Just get your ass back to Devil Tower. Hey, Damien, remember when we used to go around shooting up places, instead of wearing ties and sitting in corporate fucking offices holding Teams meetings?”
“Oh yeah? Better send me a picture of one of those ties, because I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear one. Not even on one of Everest’s red carpets. You’re the scruffiest motherfucker I’ve ever seen.”
“Right back at you.”
“And don’t fucking complain about Teams meetings, you boomer. Get with the times.”
“You’re older than me, fuckhead.”
“By three months, and—”
“And I’ve already got your retirement home all picked out.”
He rolls his eyes at me.
“Anyway, on to your last point: why shoot people when you can get someone else to do it?”
“I don’t know, Damien. Maybe because it’s fun?” I pause, doing my best to keep my poker face, because the truth is, I’ve had a lot of fun shooting people only recently. But I don’t think Damien knows about that, and I really don’t want him to find it out.
My phone vibrates then, and I sit up in my chair, my attention suddenly sharp the way it is every time I see her name flash on my screen.
Piper Day.
“Is that your daughter?” questions Damien.
“Hmm? It’s nothing.” I flip the phone over to hide the screen, even though I know he can’t possibly see it.
“Right. I told you, Logan, I’d never kill her. You don’t have to worry about that.”
“No. You’ve only been telling me you’d kill her for the past, like, ten years, if the mafia ever became a real threat again. Of course you wouldn’t actually kill her.”
“Hey, you’re not the only one with a kick-ass sense of humor, huh?” He gives me a wry smile. “Okay, point taken. But remember, I’m the one who set little Aurora up with a safe family and a new identity.”
“No; you’re the one who told me to do that.”
“And you did. And she’s alive. And the mafia think she’s dead and—” He pauses. “Well, no, they don’t anymore, do they? Been getting bothered by those idiots lately, Logan?”
“Uhm… no,” I lie. “Of course not.”
“Uh huh. I heard about that little kerfuffle earlier this year.” He pauses.
“It’s fine, Logan. We’ve already established you would lie to protect her.
After all, you’ve been lying to her nearly all her life to protect her.
And when you met her and told her who she really was—well, I could have killed her then and there.
But I didn’t, did I? Still, I think it’s a very good idea, Logan, that you sent your daughter to that safe house in Oregon, with her psychopath boyfriend… what’s his name again?”
“Quill,” I mutter.
“Right. Quill. So, when were you planning to tell me about all this shit? And Coltello…”
“Coltello’s dead now. He died earlier this year. Not a threat anymore.”
“Yeah. Not a threat. I mean, Moretti’s dead too, and we once thought that threat was gone, but…”
“No,” I interrupt. “We never thought that, otherwise Piper could have come home.” My voice sounds strangled.
“We wouldn’t have kept pretending she was dead if we truly believed there was no threat.
Instead, I’ve had to keep my distance from her all these years, while listening to you talk about how you’d happily kill her. ”
“I didn’t talk about how I’d happily kill her,” objects Damien. “I joked about how I’d happily kill her.”
“Right.” I close my eyes, the painful subject making my head ache.
“Besides, she is a threat to Devil. She’s the reason the mafia became a problem earlier this year.
And don’t think you succeeded in beating them for good.
Word on the street is, some of those fuckers are still around.
They just won’t die, but they’ve changed.
Joined a new gang. Things are about to get real fucking weird.
Regardless, I didn’t kill your daughter. Did I?”
“No,” I allow.
“You’re too serious, man. I wouldn’t do that. You know I wouldn’t. What’s the fun in living if you can’t joke around a little?”
“I don’t know, Damien.” I huff out a weary sigh. “What would you do if I joked about killing your girl? About killing Seraphina?”
“Kill you for real, probably.” He blinks at me lazily, as if entirely unaware of how much of a hypocrite he is.
“Right.” I lean in, ready to end the call, because I’m tired. He makes me tired. “Anyway, I have to go. Keep spending your days fucking your girl, and let me deal with whatever weird new situation we’re facing, according to you.”
“Well, well.” He smirks. “Look who’s all grown up now. Sure, I’ll let you handle it. I’m on to bigger and better things…”
“I wouldn’t exactly call Seraphina bigger and better. More like smaller and—”
All trace of humor vanishes from his eyes, replaced by danger. But he takes a deep breath and it’s hidden by a thin varnish of humor. I know that look well, because it’s the one I’ve been wearing for the past eighteen years.
“Alright. Don’t you want to know what I’m really calling about?”
“No, not really,” I tell him.
“Well, since you asked, it’s about Emilio Cabello…”
My phone buzzes again, and when I peek at the screen, I see it’s Piper.
She doesn’t call often. She knows she’s supposed to be in hiding, and the phone is only for emergencies.
Of course, given how chatty my daughter is, and how oblivious she is to danger, she does in fact call me every so often.
And her version of an emergency ranges from needing me to send her more books because she’s read everything she has, to relaying all-important gossip from the town within her safety perimeter.
I’ve probably gotten a little too lax with safety, because I allow the calls. But, after all, I did beat the mafia. Coltello is dead. Even if Damien’s right and a few of the old mobsters are still around, forming a new gang... so what?
Obviously, I know there’s still some danger, or I wouldn’t insist on Piper remaining in Oregon. It’s like Damien said—things have changed, and that’s what worries me. I can’t keep tabs on our enemies like I used to. Something’s off, and I don’t know what. And that’s scary as hell.
Still, it would be too hard to never hear my daughter’s voice, especially after more than eighteen years of watching her from a distance. So, even though I know I shouldn’t, I pick up each of her calls, and never reprimand her for them.
But one thing she doesn’t do is call me twice in a row.
“Alright, Damien. I don’t give a shit about Emilio Cabello and his sorry ass stuck in Italy, and I have to go. See ya.” I hang up the call before he has time to say anything more, then answer Piper.
“Yeah, sweetie?”
“Logan? Uhm… sorry to bother you, but I just got a very important clue…”
I chuckle at my mystery-loving daughter. “I’m on a call. Or was. Can this wait?”
“No, not really.” She clears her throat. “It’s about… my mom.”
“Okay,” I say patiently, drumming my fingers as I wait for her to talk to me about Laura Day, the woman I handed her off to eighteen years ago, temporarily, I’d hoped.
But by the time the mafia had backed down, she was eight years old and firmly believed her name was Piper.
How could I possibly take her away from the woman she’d grown up thinking was her mother?
I couldn’t, especially since I didn’t know how long I’d be able to keep her with me.
But last year, Piper’s adoptive parents died. I didn’t have a choice. I told Piper everything, but then, I had to send her to another safe house across the country, separating myself from her yet again to protect her.
“What about Laura Day?” I ask Piper gently as she hesitates.
“Uhm…” She inhales. “I wasn’t talking about my adoptive mom, actually. I was talking about… my birth mom. Lia.”