16. Logan
16
LOGAN
Poppy’s coffee sits on the table for her first thing in the morning, and I watch as she waddles into the kitchen. It is a waddle, too. There is no hiding how hard it is for her to get around.
When she sits down and pulls it closer to her, I notice the package on the table.
“What’s this?”
Poppy glares at me, refusing to acknowledge I’ve even said anything until after she starts the only bit of caffeine she gets for twenty-four hours.
Like the smart man my momma raised me to be, I don’t say anything else until she has a few sips and leans back with a satisfied smile on her face.
“I’m jealous of that coffee,” I tell her with a half smile. When she raises an eyebrow, I shrug in response. “I’m serious. I wish I made you smile like that.”
“You do.” Poppy lifts her coffee back up to her lips. “In bed. At least, sometimes you do. Sometimes, you make me scream.”
“Damn it, woman.” I reach down and adjust my raging hard-on. “You can’t tell me that right before I have to go to work.” Of course I’m hard. The woman in front of me is my living wet dream and has been since I was old enough to know better.
All I get from her is a smile as she sets her cup down and reaches for the envelope I asked about before she distracted me with talk about sex.
“I have no clue what it is,” Poppy tells me while she tears into it, or tries to tear into it. “I thought it was just another thing your mom or mine bought, but it was sent to the office instead. I was gonna put it in the nursery, but honestly, I don’t want to open that door and fall into a pit of cleaning and organizing it, since you said you wanted to do it after the baby shower this weekend. So, when Nia dropped it off, I left it here.”
When she doesn’t get the envelope open on her third try, I pluck it out of her hands and rip it open in one attempt. Then I hand it back to her. She turns the envelope upside down on the table next to her cup and gasps.
“What is it?” I lean over, trying to figure out what would get such an intense reaction out of her.
Poppy lifts a chain up, and on the end is a familiar charm.
“Holy shit.” Poppy pushes away from the table and shuffles awkwardly in the other direction. “Are you coming?” she calls back over her shoulder.
I follow, not sure what the hell is happening.
“Look.” Poppy holds up the necklace and points at one of the photos on my wall.
Flipping on the hall light, I step as close as I can and still have to squint to see what she is talking about.
“This charm. The locket. It’s something my mom bought for me when I was a kid. I gave it to Lettie for her sixteenth birthday. Before… Anyway. My mom got it from an antique store or an estate sale, and she gave me permission to give it to Lettie. I thought it was lost because your parents couldn’t find it after she died. I looked for years for a replacement. No one knew about this, Logan. No one but Lettie.”
Poppy’s voice breaks, and I pull her into my arms despite the rage coursing through me.
“I wonder if my mom found it and stuck it in the mail. Or maybe it was one of the detectives. I know right now, everyone is going back through all the evidence and case files from Lettie’s death,” I explain, lying my ass off.
Poppy sniffs. “Okay.” She shuffles back to the kitchen. “I’ve gotta finish my coffee before it gets cold and I have to reheat it.”
She knows I’m lying, though, and she doesn’t call me on it.
“I’ve gotta go,” I call to her back. “I’ll be home late, so try not to get too bored, okay?”
“Last shift before the baby shower.” Poppy appears in the doorway to the kitchen. “Tomorrow we get to put all the baby stuff together. Maybe I’ll start washing the baby clothes today. That way I can put them away when the furniture is all put together.” She sips her coffee. “Yeah, I think that’s a great idea.”
I don’t know why I stand there and listen to her prattle on to herself. But in that moment, I know that I will never love another living being as much as I love her. Listening to the sound of her voice, even when she is rambling about baby furniture, soothes the inner chaos that swirls around my head.
“I love you, Poppy. Stay safe.”
“Always.” She smiles at me and then turns back into the kitchen, still talking to herself about something to do with laundry and if it is sanitary to eat while she folds the baby clothes.
Poppy may not know where the necklace came from, but there is no doubt in my mind. And that means that I have some work to do, because up until then, I’ve actually been listening to the chief when it comes to staying away from Ortega. Even when I’ve wanted to drive by his house or the places that he used to frequent, I haven’t done it.
Not because I care about listening to the chief. But because I don’t want to make it harder for anything to stick to the man. And having a cop out for vengeance is exactly the type of thing that defense attorneys get hard over.
I walk out of the house after setting the alarm, because there is zero chance of me ever forgetting that damned thing again, and drive to work on autopilot.
As soon as Remy and Linc see the look on my face as I walk into the bullpen, I know they’ll be following me down the detectives’ hall. Instead of going to my office, I walk into Dom’s, where he is talking to his wife, Emma, at his desk. With a sigh, I motion for the other two to walk in and shut the door.
“Emma, what you’re about to hear cannot, under any circumstances, get back to Poppy.”
Her hackles immediately rise, and I watch my woman’s friend cross her arms and silently take her stance, ignoring the way her pregnant stomach sticks out.
Any other time, I would have hugged her or asked how her pregnancy is going. But not today. Not when my life is being turned upside down again for what feels like the hundredth time this year.
So, instead of treating her like the friend she’s become, I stare at her like she is a bug on the glass that I have to put up with. “If you can’t make that guarantee, you can’t stay here for this conversation.”
She shoots a look at Dom, who shakes his head. “Sorry, bonita . It’s not a friend moment. You either wear your cop hat, or you get the fuck out of the office and take it out on me later. Preferably in bed.”
Silent communication passes between the two of them for a few tense moments.
“Fine,” she finally says. “But don’t think I’m not going to take this out on your ass later,” she hisses at her husband, turning away from him when he reaches for her.
But she doesn’t leave the room.
“Ortega is out of prison,” I start and then hold up a hand for silence when they all start to announce that they knew. “He sent Poppy a package.” I pull the envelope out of my pocket and drop it on the desk. “Sent it here to the station, and Nia brought it to her.”
While they both look at the envelope, I go on. “Poppy gave a one-of-a-kind necklace to Lettie for her sixteenth birthday. It wasn’t seen after…” I cough, unable to clear my throat or work around the lump that’s formed. “It wasn’t seen after Lettie died,” I try again and get it out. “Poppy showed me a picture of it on my wall and said that she’d tried to replace it after Lettie’s death. The only person who knew about it, besides Poppy and Lettie, is him.” I tap the envelope with a finger. “It was him, and Poppy doesn’t know that. I just can’t figure out if Ortega’s telling Poppy that he’s coming for her or if he’s telling me that he knows how much she means to me.”
The silence from Dom and the men, I expect. But it is Emma who surprises me the most.
“It’s a message for you,” she concludes quietly. “We’ve dealt with enough craziness and people trying to destroy our friends that it’s clear to me. At least from an outside perspective.” She sighs. “Look. It’s addressed to her here, at the station. If it were him announcing that he was going to get her or hurt her, he’d have sent it directly to your house. Instead, he’s telling you that he can get to her. And that he will, if you give him the chance.”
“That’s the same thing.” Remy sits down in one of the chairs lining the wall. “You just said the exact same thing.”
“No.” Emma shakes her head, sighing again like we’re all children that she has to explain a problem to. “Think about it this way. Right now, he’s announcing himself. He’s saying that if he wants to, he can hurt Logan. Hurt him by getting to Poppy. He’s not saying that he’s going to. But the fact that he made contact at all… That’s the real message. He’s not going to sit in silence or in the background and let Logan get away with sending him to prison for what happened to Logan’s sister.”
“I hate to say it, Emma,” Linc offers his insight. “But it wouldn’t make sense for him to do that. Why send a message if it’s not an overt threat?”
“Why’d he drop my sister’s body on my parents’ lawn when he knew that she was dead?” I sniff and then rub a hand through the scruff on my chin. “He’s not just an asshole or a drug dealer. He’s also a psychopath. Or sociopath. One of the two. I couldn’t ever get my hands on his mental health evaluations to know for sure, and it stopped being a priority when I thought he’d be in prison for the next twenty years.”
“So what are you going to do?” Dom pulls an evidence bag out of his desk and uses a pen to slide the envelope inside it without contaminating it any further.
“Me?” I shake my head and shrug one shoulder at the same time. “I’m not gonna do anything at all. But Poppy’s father and brother? They’re members of a motorcycle club. And I can’t control what they do when I give them the news about Ortega making a threat toward her.”
Again, Emma surprises me. “You’re going to tell Dean Blake that someone’s threatening his daughter?” She laughs. “Please, please let me be there when you do it. Dean’s a legend, and Sammy’s no joke either. Combine them with the other guys, and I will gladly leave my badge and gun at home so I won’t have to miss it. We can even bring popcorn. And you know Avery and Carter would be in on it too, since her brother’s the president.”
“Not a chance,” Dom interjects. “You’re just as far along as Poppy is, and you’re not gonna put our kid in danger just to satisfy your morbid curiosity.”
Rounds of agreement from the other two men in the office have me biting my tongue to keep from saying anything.
Screw it.
“You’re aware that besides this building or the Birch County Sheriff’s Office, the MC clubhouse is probably the safest place in our entire county, right? You should let her go if she wants to.”
Emma smiles at me, beaming with approval, and I know that she may have forgiven me just a little bit for making her keep a secret from Poppy.
“No,” Dom tries again, but I recognize the determined look on Emma’s face. It is the same one that Poppy has anytime she is putting her foot down. Plus, I know better than to ever argue with a pregnant woman or a woman who’s just been told that she can’t do something because the men in her life want to keep her safe.
“Okay.” Emma turns a bright smile on him. “I’ll just invite them to our house, and Logan can tell them there. Since technically, it will still be away from Poppy, and I won’t have to miss it.” She taps her finger to her lip contemplatively. “But you know, I bet you wouldn’t like that. Since they’re in an MC, that means they’re all gonna be on bikes, and no doubt they’re gonna tear up the lawn that you just put in. Oh, and it’ll spit gravel.” Then she snaps her fingers together like she’s just had the best idea ever. “I know what I’ll do.” She smiles even brighter at her husband. “I’ll call Avery, you know. The woman I just brought up. She may have married Carter, who’s a cop, but her brother’s the president of the MC now. She’ll make sure I’m safe.”
I watch her play him like a fiddle, and not even five minutes later, we are all walking out of the station, heading to the only men in the world I know who will do just as much as I will to keep Poppy safe.
Her father and older brother.