Chapter 44
forty-four
BLAIR
“Are you almost done with that proposal?” Tess leans against the doorway to my little office, a smile on her face.
Her toe taps the ground, but I’ve spent long enough around my boss to know it’s not a sign of impatience.
She just has too much energy, and her body has to get rid of it somehow. Which means she’s always moving.
“Just about. I’m waiting on one final email response, then I’ll wrap it up and send it your way.”
“Perfect,” she chirps, beaming at me. “You’re doing a great job.” With that, she flashes me another bright smile, turns on her heel, and flits back out of my office and back to hers.
My stomach growling, I open my email inbox, hoping to find what I need so I can go to lunch. The email I’m waiting for isn’t there, but I do have a new message with a blank subject line.
Opening it, my body goes still as I read the first line.
Blair,
Did you really think you could take everything from me and get away with it?
It wasn’t enough to steal my life, you had to steal the man I love too? I don’t know how you manipulated your way into Logan’s bed, but I do know your days with him are numbered. You’re nothing special. I see through you, and soon he will too. Everyone will see exactly who and what you are.
When I’m done with you, not only will Logan leave you in his dust, but you’ll be out of a job and shunned by every single player and employee of the Rogues.
You should cut your losses and move back to LA. It’s safer for you there. Not to mention your little brother.
I’d hate to see his life go up in smoke all over again.
Do the right thing. End things with Logan.
Always watching,
Logan’s Future Wife
“What. The. Fuck?” My hands shake as I scroll through the email. I’m somehow both icy and sweating like it’s a mid-summer day in the sun. When my eyes land on the email address, I stop breathing.
ibyrne4u27@
It has to be the same person who’s been posting all those photos of me and Logan on the Rogues fan sites, right? The odds that they share the same username without being the same person are slim. It’s possible, but not likely.
“Oh my god.” They’re stalking us. They’re threatening us. Well, me and Reed. And the way they phrased that last threat about Reed? About hating to see his life go up in smoke again? Whoever it is has to know how our parents died. Are they threatening my brother and me with the same horrible end?
Every breath feels like razor blades as I suck in oxygen. The room wavers, or maybe it’s me, and bile surges up my throat. Pushing out of my chair, I stumble into the bathroom, lock the door, and empty the contents of my stomach.
My throat burns and tears leak from my eyes as I vomit up bile and the coffee I called breakfast.
When there’s nothing left in my stomach, I rinse my mouth out and clean up my face. My mascara is smeared and my eyes are red and puffy. I do my best to make it look like I didn’t just puke my guts out, but there’s only so much I can do. I’m paler than normal, but that can’t be helped.
Grabbing my phone from my desk, I hurry out of the office and make my way down into the arena. Logan and the guys had practice earlier, and his last text was to complain about the music Griffin was blasting in the weight room, so I’m pretty sure that’s where they still are.
“Hey, Miss Blair, how are you?” Joe, the sweet security guard I’ve struck up a little friendship with smiles at me, but it wilts when he gets a good look at my face. “Are you all right? You look like you’ve been crying.”
I choke back the sob that tries to claw its way out of my throat and nod. “I’m okay, just dealing with something right now. Are the guys in the weight room? Can I go in?”
Joe regards me seriously and nods. “Of course. Do you need me to escort you?”
“No, that’s not necessary. Thank you, Joe.”
The frown on his face tells me he wants to fight me on that, but I hurry past him with a forced smile, that probably looks more like a grimace, and a half-hearted wave.
Following the stink of hockey players and the increasing volume of boisterous banter, I force my feet to carry me down the hallway.
One foot in front of the other, Blair.
You can do this.
Trembling hands make it difficult to push open the heavy double doors leading to the weight room. When I take the first step in, a few eyes turn my way. They’re guys I’ve met in passing, but none of them really know me, so they simply watch me curiously.
Then Sebastian’s gaze lands on me. He does a sweep of my face before frowning.
When my lower lip trembles, that frown deepens, and he calls Logan’s name.
Within moments, Logan is closing the distance between us, and his friends are at his back.
A solid wall of muscle surrounds me, five concerned sets of eyes pinned to my face.
“Angel? What’s wrong?” Logan’s big, warm palms cup my face, tilting my head back so he can get a better look at me. His gray eyes narrow, concern giving them an icy glint as he takes me in. “What happened? Who hurt you?”
“I… Someone sent me…” I try to force the words out, I really do, but every single one gets stuck in my throat. A cry of frustration tears from my lips, and Logan wraps his arm around me, guiding me out of the weight room. We’re attracting attention, and that’s the last thing I want.
“Come on. I’ve got you.” When the other guys move to follow us, I look up at Logan, panicked. He shakes his head at them, and with a loaded look that promises he’ll tell them what happened later, they let us walk out of the weight room alone. Neither of us speaks until the doors shut.
“Tell me what happened.” Logan’s tone is firm and gentle at the same time. It’s the same tone my dad would use on me when I came home from school crying. A promise that he’d be gentle with me, but whoever made me cry would feel the full wrath of a protective father.
The dam that holds back five years of grief and fear breaks, and I bury my tear-streaked face in Logan’s sweaty chest. Fisting his tight workout shirt, I hold on for dear life.
He’s the only thing keeping me from sinking deep into the abyss of everything I try so hard to ignore and repress just to get through each day.
The loneliness. The loss of my parents. The horror of how they died. The pressure, endless and ever growing, to be the kind of woman my parents would be proud of and the kind of sister Reed can always count on. That I’m everything to Reed and nothing to everyone else.
Well, that’s not true anymore, and I know that, but that doesn’t mean I’m what I want to be to the people around me.
Sure, I have great friends now and I have Logan, but for how long?
All my friends outside of Bryse and Adrienne are in my life because of my relationship with Logan.
What happens when he inevitably decides he doesn’t want to do this anymore and leaves? Will they leave too?
The very idea of it has me sobbing harder, pathetic little hiccups erupting painfully from my chest.
“Hey,” Logan whispers, “hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. Whatever it is, I’m here.”
For now.
“Talk to me, angel. What happened? Who do I need to kill?”
I stiffen when someone walks past the hallway. I don’t want to have a breakdown here. This is ridiculously unprofessional and embarrassing. Luckily, Logan seems to catch on to my thoughts, and he pulls my phone out of my pocket.
“Let’s get you home. Can I text your boss and tell her you got sick? I’ve been here long enough. I won’t get in trouble if I leave.”
All I can do is nod. Unlocking my phone, Logan shoots a quick text to Tess, who must have seen me make a beeline for the bathroom, because she responds quickly that she hopes I feel better soon and to take as much time as I need.
“Thanks,” I croak.
“Anything for you.” His voice is so gentle, it slices right through me. Because now that I know how it feels to have Logan speak to me this way, it’ll hurt even more when he no longer does.
When he sees the email, will he decide that all of this is more trouble than it’s worth and call it off between us? Or will I be the one who has to pull the plug because it’s the only way to keep my brother safe?
Either way, I’m more certain with every passing moment that all of this has an expiration date. And more and more certain that losing Logan will break something in me that can never be repaired.
“Okay, baby, let’s get you home. I just need my keys.
” He lets go of me, but only long enough to prop the door open with one hand and grip one of mine with the other.
He calls out to Maddox, asking him to grab his keys and coat.
Within minutes, Logan’s arm is back around me, and he leads me out of the arena and into his car.
“We’ll figure out how to get your car later. For now, let’s get you out of here.”
I don’t fight him on it. It would be dangerous to drive in the state I’m in, and I don’t think I’d be capable of paying close enough attention to the roads.
My mind is a jumbled mess as Logan helps me into the passenger seat and secures the seat belt around me.
I barely notice the passing minutes or where we are.
“We’re here. Come on, baby.”
I should protest when he picks me up out of the car and carries me like a broken princess into my building, but I don’t. His chest is warm, and he smells like salt and sweat and musk. His strong arms are solid around me. Secure. Safe. Comforting.
Logan grabs the spare key from its hiding place, since I didn’t have the foresight to grab my purse, and unlocks the door before carrying me inside. Neither of us speaks until we’re enclosed in the familiar silence of my dingy little apartment and he sinks down onto the couch with me in his lap.
“Tell me what happened.”