24 #2
“I don’t give a fuck about Damien or anyone else,” snaps Logan. “I’m not handing her over to you. If Moretti wants her, he can come take her.”
“Right.” Coltello pours himself another glass. “I think you’re forgetting yourself, man. I’m the don’s underboss. His son Carmelo answers to me. You’re not even a speck of dust on the sole of my shoe. So I’m taking the girl, and you’re gonna sit there like a good boy and watch me. Okay?”
He leans over the table and hooks his hand around my wrist. I gasp as he pulls me over to him, while Logan keeps an arm of steel around my middle.
“Ow! Let go of me!” I snap.
“You might be bringing her arm back if you continue tugging on it like that,” smirks Logan, “but I’m keeping the rest of her.”
“Let go of me!” I lash out again, trying to wriggle out of Coltello’s hold. “Asshole! Fuck! That hurts!”
SLAM.
I feel Coltello’s hand loosen its grip just moments before the other one makes contact with my face. I careen backward, dropping Aurora in my surprise and pain, and bring my hands up automatically to protect myself from the arm that I can just tell is itching to strike again.
The next moment, I let out a strangled cry as I come to my senses and realize I’ve just let go of my baby.
Fuck!
I nearly collapse in relief when I see she’s safe in Logan’s arm, though she’s sobbing loudly. His other arm still squeezes me to him tightly.
Before I can even manage to wriggle around and latch onto her again, he’s whispering something in her ears that seems to reassure her.
“Logan,” I say, trying to lift out my hands to take her.
But his arm is like a vise, crushing me, and he ignores me entirely, his attention focused on my daughter.
As soon as her cries cease, he takes out his cell phone and types out a message, while Coltello looks on in bemusement.
Moments later, Everest enters.
“Time to babysit,” drawls Logan, handing Aurora over to him. “I promised her an ice cream. Make it a popsicle, though, okay?”
“Wait,” I beg, trying to keep the sobs from my voice. “Please don’t take her from me. Please, Logan.”
But unlike before, he doesn’t promise not to hurt her. He merely rolls his eyes when Everest protests, “Really? An ice cream? It’s not even six!”
“She’ll live,” snorts Logan. “Off you go, Everest.”
“Logan! Please!” I cry.
Helplessly, I watch Everest carry Aurora outside. If it were anyone else, I’d be beside myself with anxiety. But some part of me knows she’s safe, even though it’s torture to see her disappear behind the door, listening to her babble excitedly about the promised treat.
The minute she’s gone, the adrenaline that’s been holding me together disappears, and I dissolve in tears. Debbie, still leaning against the far wall, as white as the sheet she’s draped in, actually looks like she feels bad for me.
“Can I go?” is all she mutters, though.
“You can go to the kitchen, yes,” says Logan, “and serve us up… let’s see.” He looks at the laminated menu. “I’ll have a coffee. How about you, Coltello?”
The latter looks decidedly amused as his eyes rake up and down my body, while I sit helplessly on Logan’s lap. I try to bring a hand up to dry the tears mingling with the blood from my nose, but Logan’s arm around me prevents me from doing anything more than wiggle helplessly.
“Make it two coffees,” he requests.
“And eggs and bacon for Lia,” concludes Logan, handing the menu to Debbie.
“Lia?” she repeats, blinking slowly. “Isn’t your name… Piper?”
“Piper,” repeats Logan musingly. “I like that.”
“I don’t want eggs or bacon,” I huff out, ignoring his reaction. “I want my daughter. Please, Logan, you promised…”
He claps a hand over my mouth. “Two coffees, eggs and bacon,” he snaps to my employer. “Now scram.”
She does just that, and he turns back to face Coltello. “You tryin’ to fatten her up for the kill?” jokes the latter.
I hiccup out a muffled sob against Logan’s hand, and for the first time, the arm holding me to him loosens, and I feel the pads of his fingers dip under the hem of my shirt. Soon he’s stroking them up and down my back, soothing me despite myself.
All it does, though, is make the tears fall even faster, as I sink into all the emotions I’ve been battling against.
“You’re my little crybaby, aren’t you?” he croons in my ear. “Keep crying, little ghost girl. I just love hearing you cry.”
“Fuck you,” I choke out against his hand. Then I squeeze my eyes shut and lift up the two hands that he’s no longer trapping to my sides to shield my face, convinced either he or Coltello will hit me again.
But nothing happens. I’m startled when I open my eyes again and notice a pained expression on his face.
Then he stops stroking me, and his body stiffens around me as he leans toward Moretti’s underboss. “Alright, Coltello. Drink your coffee, and get the fuck out of here.”
“I’ll get the fuck out of here with the girl, that’s what I’ll do,” drawls Coltello. “And don’t even think of threatening me with that thing. You’ll both be dead in a second.”
My eyes widening, I look down at the hand that was stroking me just moments before, and realize with a gasp it’s now squeezing a gun.
“Logan…” I whimper.
“Go ahead, try it,” taunts Coltello, sinking back in his seat. “Just see what happens next.”
“I’m not going to shoot you,” says Logan steadily, and for the first time, there’s no humor in his voice. “But I am going to tell you to pay up.”
The confusion in Coltello’s eyes echoes my own. “Pay up?”
“For the girl. If you want her, you’re gonna need to pay for her.”
I tense all over. What the fuck?
Just then, Debbie walks back out, carrying two cups and a plate laden with bacon and eggs. She’s tied the sheet around her like a toga, and she sets down the food and drinks with a sullen expression.
Coltello studies his coffee with a disgusted expression. “Think I’ll stick to the whiskey. Want another glass, Colt?”
“Nah, thanks, bro.”
I stare at them both, getting whiplash from the way they seem to be switching from enemy to friend-mode in the space of an instant.
What game are they playing?
“Hold on!” calls out Logan just as Debbie turns around hurriedly, probably looking forward to hiding in the relative safety of the kitchen. “Stick around, will you?”
Sticking around seems like the last thing Debbie wants to do, but she stays in place, her eyes darting suspiciously between the three of us.
“I was wondering—is this black juice shit supposed to be coffee?—why my girl had you at knifepoint.”
I don’t know why those words are the ones that anger me, forcing me out of the grief and anxiety that have had me spiraling. “What the fuck? I’m not your girl!”
SMACK.
This time, it’s not Coltello’s hand on my face that has me reeling, but Logan’s on my ass, as he tilts me toward him and cracks his palm down hard.
“Logan!”
Everything else is momentarily forgotten as humiliation surges through me.
I try desperately to wriggle out of his hold and stand up, but my struggle only seems to amuse him.
His arms clamp around me, and he holds me to him, the stiffness pressing under my ass telling me just how much he’s enjoying himself.
My face flames with utter mortification when I realize I’m not entirely unbothered myself.
I can’t believe I’m getting turned on by the guy who was sent here to kidnap me. To bring me back by force to my husband. To watch me get torn apart by dogs.
And the worst part is he’s not just going to hand me over. He’s going to sell me.
Yet another tear spills from my eye, and I can’t tell if I want to collapse or stab the asshole when I hear him chuckle softly at the sight of me crying.
“Well?” prompts Logan, turning once more to Debbie. “What did you do to get on my girl’s bad side?”
“Nothing,” mutters Debbie. “She’s loony, that’s all.”
“Uh huh. She certainly is.” I could swear I hear something like affection in his voice. But of course, he’s only mocking me. “And what exactly is your version of nothing?”
“It’s just nothing!” lashes out Debbie. “I fed her and the kid, I let them sleep on my couch, I gave the baby some books and toys… I’ve been nothing but nice! Your girl is the one who’s nuts! A total psycho! Wanting to take all my money away! That’s what she was doing, robbing me!”
“Hmm.” His one arm still crushing me to him, he lifts me up by the chin so that my face is turned toward his. “Is that so, Lia? Are you my naughty girl?”
My whole body is shaking with humiliation and anger. “F-f-fu…”
“Don’t say it, Lia,” he growls, his eyes glinting. “Don’t make a bad situation worse.”
His words send me into a new nervous spiral as he turns back to Debbie. “Alright. Show us the key.”
“The… what?”
“Colt,” snaps Moretti’s underboss, finishing off his third glass of whiskey. “Believe it or not, as much as I’m enjoying the show, I got other shit to do than watch you terrorize an idiot waitress and spank my boss’s daughter-in-law. So let’s just get this the fuck over with, man. Hand her to me.”
Logan keeps his eyes fixed on Debbie, ignoring him. “Go on. The key. Or you know what, let’s make it easy. Just get out all your cash. Put it on the table. Careful, because I don’t repeat myself. I know you believe me when I say I know how to use this.”
He doesn’t even have to pick up the gun he’s set on the table before she’s scuttling off, then walking back a lot more slowly with a thick wad of bills that she lays grumblingly on the table.
“Go on,” she sniffs. “Rob me. All my life savings, that’s all. Go on and rob me.”
“Well, Lia?” says Logan, loosening his hold on me. “There you go. Take it. That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?”
I stare at the rolls of cash, wondering what the trap is. “It’s fine,” I mumble.
“Really? You went through all the trouble of forcing her into this diner at knifepoint, but it’s fine? Take the fucking money, Lia. Take it.”
“I don’t want it,” I lash out. “I never wanted it! I was just… I was just… I was trying to take back what’s mine,” I finish lamely.
“Well, then, take it,” encourages Logan.