Chapter 7 Logan
LOGAN
He’s going to be the death of me one day. If not through carelessness, then through annoyance.
While Max stocks up this ridiculous excuse of a room like he’s starring in one of those HGTV shows he’s obsessed with, I’m trying to come up with the argument that’ll convince him to blow this suicide mission.
I can’t understand why he’s so set on keeping her. Why Max, who refuses to bring home the same girl twice for reasons as absurd as plenty, wants a woman he’s known for a few hours—if we don’t count the stalking—to move in.
Logically, I should ruin his little delusion before it turns into an even bigger problem.
But when he looks at me with his bright smile, like California summers in a fucking person, it’s hard to say no to anything.
It is not hard to make him suffer for manipulating me into agreeing to his shitty plan, though.
Max pulls out his phone, smiling as he reads a message. “Charlie said the coast is clear.”
“You told Charlie? Our Charlie? It’s like you want to get in trouble.”
“He knows Rockwell’s schedule better than anyone else,” Max retorts. “And he’s too scared of you to snitch on us.”
I sigh, drawn out and goddamn tired, while I rub my hands over my face. I’ve made many reckless decisions throughout my life, and despite that, joining this task force ranks #2.
“Come on, let’s go get your girl before I change my mind,” I say, kicking the backpack into a corner.
“Our girl.”
Max looks at me with this smartass expression, walking to the door. So damn sure of himself and his impressively stupid plan. It would be adorable if I was an uninvolved bystander and not a part of this mess.
“We’ll see,” I grumble as we approach the stairwell.
He babbles on and on while we take the elevator down to the second basement. By now, my brain has a convert Max’s talking to white noise setting. Once we arrive in front of the security door, I have him use his card to unlock it. If people ask questions, I don’t want anyone to know I was involved.
Not because I’m afraid of the consequences but because it’s embarrassing.
With every step we take toward Lillian’s cell, the urge to grab Max by the neck and drag him out of the cell block becomes harder to ignore.
When the problem sees Max, a smile spreads on her face.
It vanishes when I step into view, though.
I get it, but couldn’t she at least try to be polite?
Something about her rubs me the wrong way.
As of right now, she doesn’t seem like a ‘perfect addition’ and more like a second pain in the ass I have to deal with.
I also wonder how this is supposed to work when she looks at me as if I’m the Grim Reaper who came to collect her soul.
I could definitely fuck it out of her.
“Wanna go for my eyebrow this time?” I ask as I push past Max and walk up to her.
Frantically, she shakes her head, mumbling, “Sorry.”
Too little, too late.
“We’ll bring you to your room.” Max shoves me out of the way and reaches out to take her hand before I step between them.
“I take her.” He steps aside, glaring at me.
Misbehaving mutt, already starting to be possessive about a toy he only has because I allow it. He exhales sharply, and it looks like Lillian is contemplating all her past life decisions.
“You can still go home. Just say the words. Cause I’ll happily put your ass in a car and drop you off wherever you want,” I say, keeping the so this shitshow is over before they fire us to myself.
“No,” she insists. “I can’t—I want to stay, please.”
“Great.” My smile is forced, and I hope it looks as insincere as it feels. “Give me your hand.”
I don’t want to risk her bolting off, and I absolutely don’t want Max to hold her hand again.
He needs to be reminded of his boundaries; the sooner, the better.
With a sigh, I grab Lillian’s wrist and pull her after me while Max is still busy checking if she left anything behind in her cell.
Not that she brought a lot to begin with.
Another problem. Wonderful.
She's quiet as a mouse during the elevator ride and the walk to her temporary home. Thank God, because I cannot deal with two chatterboxes.
Max is the last to enter the room, closing the door behind himself. He refuses to look me in the eye, and from his body language, it’s obvious he’s hiding something from me.
Lillian stares at me, wide-eyed, like a lost fawn, and I’m afraid I’m starting to see the appeal.
“Obedient,” I murmur, letting go of her hand to press two fingers against the groove of her wrist.
Her pulse quickens, and a smile spreads on my lips. Genuine and lethal. Max knows what it means, so he busies himself by fluffing her pillow.
Lillian turns her head to look at him, but a click of my tongue stops her. She flinches, and I lean a little closer.
“Scared of me?” Her teeth dig into her plump lower lip, tempting me to have a taste. “You should be.”
I put my hand on her cheek; this time, she doesn't dare to flinch. Her skin is so warm, cheeks flushed pink—and I barely touched her. I don’t know what it is; her feigned innocence, those big eyes—but whatever it is, it gets me fucking hard.
“Open your mouth,” I say, sliding my thumb over her bottom lip so she lets go of it. I told Max I’d apologize to her by fucking her pretty face, and I’m a man who keeps his promises.
“Wait, wait, wait,” she stammers, turning toward Max. “What’s going on here?”
“Ahem,” he says, staring at me like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
I’m going to kill him.
“Vaughn, outside, now.”
It takes a lot, if not all, of my self-restraint to keep my composure until we’re out of Lillian’s field of hearing. Two doors separate us from her as we reach the deserted hallway; probably not enough, but I won’t walk any further.
I grab Max by his shirt, twisting it in my hand before I push him against the nearest wall.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I snarl, looking down at him.
We’re almost the same height, but God takes a few inches from him whenever I’m pissed.
“How exactly is this supposed to work, Max? Cause if you want someone to hold hands and have bingo nights, I’m gonna drop you off at the nearest retirement home. ”
I tighten my grip and pull him close, only to slam him against the wall once more.
“She looked at me like I just gave her a heart attack just because I told her to open her fucking mouth. This isn’t working, sunshine.”
“Maybe I still have to talk to her about that side of the agreement,” he admits, and my eye starts twitching.
He forces himself to smile at me, looking like a fucking ventriloquist’s doll, and I’m tempted to shove my fist up his ass and turn him into a proper one.
Sneakily, he tries to sink down on his knees, but I’m holding his shirt in such a tight grip he’d have to rip it.
“Don’t even think about sucking your way out of this. My cock is a reward, and certainly not something you get for behaving like the biggest fucking moron in the universe.”
Max looks at me like a kicked puppy, his shoulders dropping as soon as I let go of him. Impressive how he still acts like this fiasco isn’t entirely his doing.
“You’re going to walk your stupid ass back there and sort this out. The next time I enter this room, I want both of you to behave. I’m not risking my paycheck for your little roommate project without getting anything in return.”
Deep down, I hope he fucks it up. That a completely hysterical Lillian waits for him, forcing him to realize that this has to end. Then we could pack her into a car, drive her wherever her innocent little heart desires, forget about this mishap, and go back to business as usual.
Because everything was fucking fine between us before she showed up.