Chapter 18
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My head is hurting, my lip is busted and swollen, and I’m about to give up all hope when there’s a loud boom, and then all I can see is smoke. I roll away from John and against the wall. I’m in the fetal position, head held down and praying I don’t get hit by a stray bullet.
When the bullets and the screaming stop, I hear someone calling my name. I lift my head and look around and jump back as I see a dead John lying a few feet away with his soulless eyes staring back at me.
“Bree!” someone hollers again.
I answer them, but it’s too soft, so I try again. “Here… I’m right here.”
Two men walk in holding Ar15s. “Are you hurt?”
I shake my head. “No.”
One squats down in front of me. “You have a shiner, busted lip… any uh, other injuries…”
I shake my head. “No… but if you had gotten here a second later, I wouldn’t be able to say the same. Who are you?”
A bellow from somewhere in the house has me raising up. “Bree!”
“Logan!” I holler back and instantly burst into tears.
I’ve never seen a man look as afraid as he does. He’s taking me in. His jaw clenches as he sees the black eye and busted lip. It’s like I can feel the anger pulsing off him, but he’s gentle when he reaches for me. “Baby… are you okay?”
He’s wiping at my tears, and then I’m dragged against him and he holds me tightly. It’s like the last two hours have been a huge emotional roller coaster, and I can’t stay strong another second. My knees buckle, and Logan lifts me into his arms.
“Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
I lean my head against his shoulder and let him carry me out.
We’re going out the front of the mansion when Zach steps in front of us. “Lo, you have to put her down. She needs to talk to the detectives. They should be here any minute.”
He shakes his head and holds me even tighter. “Zach, look at her. She doesn’t need to do anything except go to the hospital.”
I put my hand on Logan’s chest. “No, I’m fine. I promise. I don’t need to go to the hospital. I’ll talk to the detectives, and then I want to go home.”
He buries his face into my neck and breathes me in. When he lifts his head, he’s nodding. “Okay. But if you get tired or—”
I pat his chest. He’s devastated. The shock on his face says it all, and that’s a lot coming from him. He’s the king of keeping his emotions on lockdown.
I pull from his hold, but he doesn’t loosen his arms. “Logan, let me down. I’m okay.”
He frowns but puts me on my feet. His hand finds mine, and he grips me tightly, pulling me to his side.
I don’t know what to make of any of this, but I lean into him.
He looks at Zach. “I want them all dead, Zach. The whole fuckin’ Antonelli family. I don’t want one of them to think they can retaliate.”
Zach shakes his head. “We’re not in that business anymore.”
Logan opens his mouth, but Zach interrupts him. “I’ll talk to Walker. He’ll do it legit and the right way. But he’ll take care of it.”
Logan nods and pulls me to the back of a truck. He sets me on the tailgate and then sits next to me, holding my hand in his.
The detectives come, and I tell them everything that happened tonight.
Being in New York, they’re familiar with the Antonelli family.
Logan stares at me the whole time I’m talking.
I can see the pain on his face, but he doesn’t say anything.
He doesn’t have to. The way he’s holding me and not letting go says it all.
Finally, when the detectives are done, we’re free to go. I ride in the SUV on Logan’s lap, and at one point, I fall asleep in his arms.
I wake up when we get to the airfield, but Logan carries me onto the plane and all the way to the back. I’m in and out of sleep. I can hear the murmuring from the guys in the front of the plane, but Logan says nothing. A few times he sends some text messages on his phone, but that’s it.
An hour and forty minutes later, we land in Whiskey Run. I try to pull from Logan’s arms, but he holds on to me.
I put a hand to his chest. “I want… I need… to walk out of here, Lo.”
He searches my eyes and nods. He takes a step back, but before he can get too far, I grab on to his shirt. “But I want you with me.”
He covers my hand that is over his heart. “Baby, you can walk out of here, but I’m going to be walking right beside you.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He hugs me to him, kisses my forehead, and then leans back. “You ready?”
I nod, and hand in hand, we walk down the aisle of the plane. All the guys have already gotten off, but they’re waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs. I stop at each of the men to thank them. Zach hugs me. “Skyler is worried about you. Please call us if you need anything, okay.”
I nod as Logan pulls me back into his arms. He guides me to his waiting truck and calls to Zach, “You need a ride?”
He shakes his head. “No, get her home. I’ll catch a ride with one of these guys.”
Once we’re in the car and driving back toward downtown, I can’t help but wonder what’s going to happen from here. We haven’t talked, but obviously Logan knows some of the story.
I turn in my seat to face him. “Logan, I’m sorry. I did kiss John Antonelli that night, but it didn’t mean anything. We were so close to getting them.”
He tenses, holding the steering wheel tighter. “I wish you had told me. You were in so much danger, Bree, and—”
I interrupt him. “I know how dangerous it was. That’s why I didn’t tell you. That’s why I never saw you outside of Manhattan. I should have stayed away from you, but I couldn’t resist. I wanted to be with you so bad.” I suck in a breath. “I’m sorry that I brought all this to you—”
“Stop,” he says, almost angry.
I look at Main Street as we pass by. “You missed the turnoff to—”
“You’re staying with me.”
I tremble, thankful that he’s not just taking me home and dropping me off.
“I’m fine with staying at your house, but I don’t have any clothes. My phone and my purse are at my apartment.”
He’s calm and speaks softly. “Aiden and his wife have been blowing up my phone, worried about you. They wanted to do something. I had them bring your phone, purse, toiletries, and clothes to my house.”
Shocked, my mouth drops. Logan is always so protective and guarded. “He has access to your house?”
Logan chuckles. “They’re your friends. I sent him the code.”
I cross my arms over my chest. I have a hundred questions, but I’m not going to ask them now.
We finally get to Logan’s house, and he comes around the truck to help me out. His touch is gentle as he walks me up the front stairs. I’ve driven by his house a few times. I was here before, years ago, but not since I’ve been back in Whiskey Run.
He disables the alarm and stops when we get inside. He locks the door and resets the alarms. “Come on. I had them put everything in the bedroom.”
I follow him, taking in the rooms. Everything is like I remember.
Instead of going into the guest bedroom, he goes into his room and flips the light on.
I gasp when I see the pile on the bed and the dresser.
He looks around. “Your purse and phone are right there,” he says, pointing to the dresser.
He starts picking up the pile of clothes and carrying them to the closet, hanging them inside.
I hold my hands together in front of me. “Uh, I think that’s my whole closet.”
He answers simply, “It is.” He points to the bathroom. “Gracie probably put all your bathroom stuff in there, but if they forgot anything, we will go get it tomorrow.”
I look into the adjoining bathroom and see some of my things on the counter. He’s walking back and forth from the bed to the closet. “Logan.”
“Yeah?” he answers without stopping.
He hangs the last of the clothes, and I take a step toward him. “What is this?”
His eyes lift to mine, and I’m shocked to see his expression.
He looks as if he’s been punched in the gut or something.
He’s pale and worried-looking. He doesn’t answer my question but walks past me into the bathroom.
I follow him as he turns the water on. He holds his hand under the spray, waiting for it to warm up, and when he is satisfied with the temperature, he holds his hand out to me.
“Come on. You’ll feel better if you shower. ”
I take a step toward him. “Are you going to shower with me?”
His eyebrows lift. “You want me to?”
I tilt my head to the side. “Yes… can you?”
He nods and reaches for me. Slowly, he lowers to his knee and taps my leg for me to lift my foot.
He removes one shoe and sock and then the other.
He reaches for the button on my jeans, undoes it, unzips them, and then pulls them down over my thick thighs.
He raises to his feet, and I reach for the hem of my shirt, but he takes over, pulling it over my head.
When I’m standing in front of him in only a bra and panties, he sucks in a deep breath.
He unsnaps my bra and then pulls my panties down my thighs.
I step out of them, completely naked. His eyes roam over every bare inch of me, but this look he’s giving me is different than normal.
It’s like he’s looking for something, and then it hits me.
“Hey.”
His eyes raise to mine, and I point at my face. “This is it. He punched me twice. He didn’t… touch me,” I tell him.
He bites his lower lip as if he’s trying to hold himself together.
I tremble, and he helps me into the shower. I reach for him. “Will you please get in with me?”
He nods and makes quick work of removing his clothes.
He doesn’t say a word as he steps into the shower.
He washes my hair first, and I moan as he massages my scalp.
Once he’s done there, he moves to my body.
My body reacts, nipples erect, but he acts like he’s a man on a mission. He’s more clinical than anything.
When he’s washed all of me, he cleans himself up quickly and turns the water off. His silence is overwhelming. “Lo.”
He steps out of the shower and wraps a towel around his waist. His cock is flaccid, and I’m trying not to take it personally.
He grabs another towel and dries me off. “I’ll be right back,” he grunts.
He comes back wearing a pair of shorts, and he takes my towel off and pulls one of his T-shirts over my head and down my body.
“Lo… talk to me.”
He forces a clenched smile to his face. “I’m going to dry your hair, okay?”
I bite my lip, trying to get a hold of my emotions. “Yeah… yeah, okay.”
I keep trying to catch his eyes in the mirror as he dries my hair, but he won’t even look at me. It’s as if he regrets bringing me here and maybe thinking I’m more trouble than I’m worth.