Chapter 10
The Ties That Bind
Logan's POV
I get to the studio and the door flies open before I even realize I’ve moved.
Julia stands in the center of the room, her body rigid, her fists clenched tight at her sides. Her face is pale, eyes wide with something raw—fear, shock, anger. Maybe all three.
My gut tightens.
I scan her quickly, checking for wounds, for anything that tells me she’s hurt. She’s not, but the way she’s holding herself, the way she’s barely breathing, tells me something sure as hell isn’t right.
“What happened?” My voice comes out low, controlled, but there’s a storm raging beneath it.
She doesn’t answer. Just steps forward and presses something into my hand.
A photograph.
I take one look at it, and my blood goes ice-cold.
Julia and Lily.
The picture isn’t old. It was taken recently. Too recently.
A muscle jumps in my jaw as I flip it over.
There’s writing on the back.
She’s beautiful. Just like her mother.
A sound rumbles from my chest, something dark, something deadly. My grip on the photo tightens, the edges crinkling beneath my fingers.
When I lift my head, Julia is watching me, waiting. Her lower lip trembles slightly before she steels herself, standing taller, trying to act like this isn’t shaking her to her core. But I see through it.
“How long has he been watching you?” My voice is rough, a barely restrained growl.
“I don’t know.” She swallows hard, her breath shaky. “I thought I was being careful, Logan. I thought I covered my tracks—”
“Well, you didn’t.”
Her eyes widen slightly at my sharp tone, but I don’t give a damn. Fear coils deep in my gut, sharper than the rage boiling inside me. Not for me. For her. For Lily.
I drag a hand through my hair, forcing myself to breathe. Then I turn toward the door. I need to move. I need to find this bastard. I need to end this before it gets any worse.
“Wait,” Julia says quickly, stepping in front of me, blocking my path. “What do we do?”
She’s looking up at me, searching for an answer, for a plan.
I force my voice steady. “We don’t panic. We don’t run. And we sure as hell don’t let this bastard think he has the upper hand.”
Her breath shudders out. “But he does,” she whispers. “He’s been watching us, Logan. He knew where to find me. He—” Her voice breaks. “He knows about Lily.”
Something inside me snaps.
My hands clench into fists at my sides. The possessive, protective instinct in me flares like a wildfire, uncontainable.
“I’m getting you both out of here,” I say, my voice hard, unwavering. “You and Lily. I’m not taking any chances with your safety.”
Julia shakes her head. “I can’t just disappear again. I just started building something here. A home, a business. A future.”
Her future. The life she fought to create. I get it. But that doesn’t change a damn thing.
“Then we play it smart,” I tell her. “We keep you both under guard. I’ll double the patrols around your house. I’ll install security at the studio, at your home. And I’ll personally make sure you and Lily aren’t alone for a damn second.”
She swallows hard, nodding.
But I’m not done.
I step closer, lowering my voice, letting the weight of my promise settle between us. “You trust me, don’t you?”
She nods again, slowly this time. “Yes.”
Something flickers in her eyes —history, questions, things we still haven’t said. But that has to wait. Right now, keeping her and Lily safe is the only thing that matters.
I lift the photograph again, my fingers curling around the edges, rage simmering just beneath the surface.
“I’m going to find him, Julia.” My voice is deadly calm now. A vow. “And when I do, I’ll make sure he never gets near you or Lily again.”
She exhales, but I can see the weight pressing on her, the fear she’s trying to swallow down.
And I feel it too.
Because as I glance at the photograph again, at the shadow of a figure lurking just out of focus, I know one thing for certain— This isn’t over. It’s only the beginning.
I follow Julia to her house and tell her to stay there with Lilly, there is a patrol unit outside, I tell her I’ll be back.
The weight of the night settles heavily on my shoulders as I pull up in front of Julia’s house.
I kill the engine, gripping the steering wheel for a moment before stepping out into the crisp evening air.
The scent of salt and pine drifts in from the ocean, but it does nothing to ease the storm inside me.
I’ve spent the last hour combing through records, piecing together what I already suspected—Julia has been keeping more secrets than she’s willing to admit. And I can’t let it go on any longer.
I knock on the door, harder than necessary, my frustration getting the better of me. When she opens it, her expression is guarded, like she knows this conversation is coming.
"Logan," she says softly, stepping aside to let me in.
I walk past her, standing in the center of her living room, trying to steady myself. She closes the door and turns to face me, arms crossed. "You don’t look like you’re here for a friendly visit."
"I’m not," I admit. "I found something tonight, Julia. Something that doesn’t add up."
She stiffens, her gaze flicking away for a split second before meeting mine again. "What did you find?"
I reach into my pocket and pull out the file, tossing it onto the coffee table. "Records. Reports. Connections to your past that you didn’t think I’d look into.”
Her eyes snap to mine, widening slightly. A mix of fear and something else flickers across her face —something she tries to bury too damn fast.
I take a step closer, lowering my voice.
"Why didn’t you tell me about Mac?"
Her breath catches, and that moment of hesitation —of raw, naked fear—tells me everything I need to know."
The man who sent that picture, the one watching you and Lily—he has ties to Marcus Bennington. That’s not a damn coincidence, Julia. So don’t stand there and tell me it didn’t matter."
Her jaw tightens, but I don’t miss the way her hands tremble as she grips her own arms.
I push forward, pressing where I know the truth lies. "I read the reports. Knew he had a record. Fraud, extortion, drug charges. But there were whispers of worse things, weren’t there?"
She swallows, throat bobbing.
"Why did you leave?" I demand. "What happened between you and Mac?"
She lets out a shaky breath and finally, finally looks at me. "Because I was afraid," she admits, voice barely above a whisper. "Mac wasn’t just a conman, Logan. He was controlling. Manipulative. And when I tried to leave, he made sure I knew what would happen if I ever crossed him."
"Did he ever come after you?" I ask, voice tight. "After you left?"
She exhales, her fingers curling into fists. "No. But I always looked over my shoulder. Always waited for the day he’d find me."
I drag a hand over my face, trying to rein in the anger threatening to take over. "And now he has."
She nods, her breath unsteady.
I step closer, closing the space between us. Her body is taut, trembling, but when I reach out, brushing my fingers along her jaw, she doesn’t pull away.
"Julia," I say, softer this time, "you should have told me."
"It wasn’t safe," she whispers, wrapping her arms around herself. "I didn’t want to drag you into it."
"You don’t get to decide that, Julia." I take another step, closing the space between us. "You don’t get to stand in front of me and pretend like I wouldn’t have done anything— everything—to protect you."
Her lips part, but no words come. I see the conflict in her eyes, the battle waging inside her. And then, finally, she exhales a shaky breath.
"I was scared," she admits, voice barely above a whisper. "Scared of what would happen if I told you everything. If I let you back in."
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. "Damn it, Julia. I’ve been here this whole time. I would’ve—"
"Would you?" She cuts me off, stepping closer, her hands trembling. "Would you have stayed? If you knew everything? If you knew the truth?"
Right now, I need to remind her that she’s not alone anymore.
And I need to remind myself that I won’t lose her again.
Her eyes lock onto mine, something shifting between us—something heavy, volatile.
Then, before I can react, she grabs my shirt and pulls me toward her.
Our mouths collide, a desperate clash of lips and tongues, a tangle of breathless, pent-up frustration. I don’t hesitate. I don’t stop to question it. My hands are on her waist, pulling her flush against me, and she melts into me like she’s meant to be here. Like this is the only place she belongs.
"Damn you," she whispers against my lips, but she doesn’t pull away.
"I know," I murmur back, my hands roaming her back, her curves fitting perfectly against me. "I know, baby."
I lift her off the ground, her legs wrapping around my waist as I walk us back toward the couch. The moment we land, my hands are under her shirt, exploring every inch of her warm, soft skin. She moans into my mouth, nails digging into my shoulders, and I swear I’m about to lose my mind.
"Tell me to stop," I rasp, dragging my lips along her jawline, down to her neck, tasting the heat of her skin. "Tell me you don’t want this."
She gasps as I nip at her collarbone, her head tilting back. "I can’t. I won’t."
That’s all I need.
I tear her shirt over her head, my mouth finding the swell of her breast as she arches into me. Her fingers tangle in my hair, tugging me closer, and my control snaps. We shed layers in a frenzy, urgency consuming us until nothing remains between us but bare skin and unspoken promises.
I worship her with my hands, my mouth, every fiber of my being. She responds with equal intensity, pulling me closer, grounding me in her warmth. We move together in a rhythm that’s familiar yet new, slow yet desperate, our bodies speaking a language we never forgot.
And when she finally shatters beneath me, calling my name, I follow right behind, holding onto her like she’s the only thing keeping me tethered to this world.
For a long moment, we lie tangled together, breathless and spent. I press a kiss to her forehead, brushing damp strands of hair from her face.
She looks up at me, her expression softer now, vulnerable. "Logan, there’s something I need to tell you."
I stroke my thumb over her cheek, my gut tightening. "What is it, Jules?"
She opens her mouth, hesitation flickering in her gaze. I brace myself for whatever she’s about to say. But before she can speak, my phone rings, the sound shattering the moment.
She flinches, and I instinctively reach for my phone, cursing under my breath. I glance at the screen.
It’s the station.
My stomach drops as I see Franks name. The second I answer, his voice is tight, urgent. "Logan, we’ve got a situation. Someone breached the station."
My body goes rigid. "What the hell do you mean ‘breached’?"
“Something for you has been delivered to the station. It was sitting on your desk when I got back from patrol.”
A cold dread settles in my gut.
I feel Julia’s eyes on me, her body still curled beside mine. I stand, already reaching for my clothes. “I’m on my way.”
As I pull on my shirt, I glance at Julia. She’s watching me closely, something unreadable in her expression.
“What is it?” she asks, voice soft but wary.
I hesitate. “Stay here. Lock the doors. I’ll call you when I know more.”
She nods, but I can see the worry in her eyes.
Neither of us say it, but we both know —whatever’s waiting for me at that station, it’s not good.
And it sure as hell isn’t over.