Chapter 18 Max
MAX
Being Logan’s plaything for the day must have tired Lily out because, by the time I reach our room, she’s half asleep in my arms.
I snuggle up in bed right next to her, knowing damn well I have more than enough stuff to do, but I’m unable to keep my hands off of her, even if it’s just for a second.
As if she would turn into dust if I let her out of my sight or God himself is going to take her from me to show me I don’t deserve someone like her.
Because someone as ungrateful as me doesn’t get to feel loved.
I should be happy. Should run around with a smile so big it hurts, now that Logan seems to have accepted Lily, even kissed her. Everything is going according to plan.
Still, no amount of forced obliviousness is enough to mask the pain.
A throbbing ache right in the part of my mind I try so hard to silence, where a few desperate neurons are screaming, ‘If he wanted to, he would.’ So loud that on some days, not even a trunk full of C4 and free reign in our training area is enough to silence them.
It’s the part of my brain—or my heart—that tells me Logan treats me the way he does because he never really wanted me.
That I’m nothing more than a distraction, a convenient place to empty his balls without the risk of pregnancy.
A lovesick idiot who adheres to every single one of his rules without questioning them, who takes the tiniest scrap of attention with the desperation of a starving animal.
“Is everything okay? Lily asks as her hand finds mine under the covers.
“Always,” I whisper, pulling her closer.
I spend the next twenty-four hours glued to Lily’s side, ignoring all obligations and phone calls.
We have to leave soon, and according to Red’s message, we’ll be gone for at least three days.
Red is one of Logan’s friends, his only real friend.
How they got Cantrell to agree that the task force is at Red’s free disposal is still a mystery to me and what Cantrell gets in return is an equally well-kept secret, but we could have worse partners than Red.
The thought of leaving Lily on base makes me feel terrible, but it’s too soon to take her with us.
Even if Red would welcome her with open arms, not to mention that she’d probably be safer at his mansion than she’d be anywhere in the States.
It’s the nature of Red’s business and our involvement in it that led to Logan’s and my decision to let Lily stay behind with Charlie.
Under other circumstances, I’d be grateful for a change of scenery and for a few days away in a country where Lieutenant General Sanders has nothing to say, but right now, I’m anything but looking forward to our departure in a few hours.
I don’t want to spend a single day without my girl, not even a fucking minute if I’m being honest.
As soon as we’re back, I’m going to talk to Joyce about the instructor position she mentioned when I stopped by her office.
She was so excited that I felt bad for telling her it’s too early for me to pass on the action.
The new position is admittedly right up my alley, but leaving the task force would mean disappointing the others.
On the other hand, everything seems to be going to shit either way.
“Got a surprise for you, sweetheart,” Logan says as he enters the room, so abruptly he causes Lily to flinch in my lap.
Since we were in his office, he had made himself scarce and only checked in with Rockwell and me to have a quick talk about what we were going to do with Lily.
Logan’s hand is wrapped tight around an oversized teddy bear’s throat, and the poor thing tumbles to its side as he throws it onto the couch. This brings me to the sleeping situation, another thing we have to sort out once we’re back because I am too young to know about intervertebral discs.
“Don’t want you to get lonely while we’re gone,” he says, walking over this closet.
Impatiently, he stuffs his clothes into a duffle bag, badly hiding how annoyed he is that I didn’t pack for him.
“Which unfortunate recruit did you steal this from?” Somehow, the words come out snarkier than I had expected.
“Jealous, sunshine? Do I have to go back and get you something so you don’t pout for the next few hours?”
I don’t respond, and Logan rolls his eyes while letting out an exaggerated sigh. From the second he entered the room, Lily went quiet as a mouse.
She knows something is up, and I can’t blame her for trying to stay out of it. I am also well aware that Logan won’t accept her chosen role as a silent observer. There’s no place for a different point of view in Logan’s world. If you’re not on his side, you are a problem.
“Not even a thank you after I got you such a lovely present?” he asks Lily, crouching down in front of her.
“Thank you,” she says, and when Logan meets my gaze, his lips twitch.
He turns his head to the side, tapping on his cheek. “A proper thank you, sweetheart.”
Lily leans forward to give him a kiss on the cheek, but once she’s close enough, he moves.
The surprised laugh Lily lets out hurts almost as much as the fact that Logan blatantly used her to provoke me.
And, of course, he’s so fucking full of himself that he winks at me while Lily smiles against his lips.
In certain situations, I enjoy his ability to push my buttons, but right now, the only fantasy going through my head involves his handsome face meeting the wall.
I like being in Mexico. I really do, in theory, and when I’m in Red’s air-conditioned mansion.
After five minutes outside, I turn into a whiny mess. Twenty-five more minutes, and I make it everyone’s problem. Wet is fine. Hot is fine. But wet and hot? That’s bordering on a violation of my human rights.
I stopped checking my watch an hour ago. Time loses its meaning when you’re sweating out your will to live.
Unlike me, Logan thrives in the jungle. Eighty percent humidity doesn’t bother him at all.
He actually enjoys it, like he’s a houseplant you put next to a humidifier.
There’s honest joy showing on his face while he lies on the ground, his sniper rifle pointed at the front door of the small cabin we’re observing.
“Did you see the huge plant we passed on the way up here? I think Charlie has one of those.”
“Mhm.”
“His is tiny, though. We should dig that one out and give it to him. Isn’t his birthday in two months?”
“Yup.”
Since we arrived in Mexico, Logan has tried to make small talk.
When we had dinner with Red and some of his men last night, he even put his hand on my thigh.
The problem is that I’m itching for a big talk, and I can’t imagine many things that are less likely to happen.
So, I try to adhere to my plan of giving him the cold shoulder by sticking to one-word answers.
“Stop pouting,” he says sternly. “Ungrateful brat, look how beautiful it is out here.”
Frowning, I squash the mosquito that enjoys his lunch on the back of my hand.
Sam was friendly enough to share his—apparently useless—insect repellant with me.
It came in a plain black bottle, and he repeatedly told me not to use it indoors.
At this point, I’m just waiting for a third arm to grow out of my stomach since I don’t think it’s doing anything apart from altering my DNA.
Either that or it simply dripped off of me by now because I’m feeling like a wet rag someone forgot in the sink. Probably smell like one, too.
“Very beautiful. So marvelous I want to strip my skin off and—“
Logan shushes me before I can pick up speed.
There’s finally movement inside the cabin, and a look at my watch confirms what we already know. Our targets are late, really late, unless Red’s informant gave us the wrong time frame.
“Three going out the back,” Rockwell’s voice comes through my earpiece, and I crouch down to make sure we remain hidden. “There’s not enough product in the cabin to justify such a big transport. Sam and I are going to follow them. You and Logan take care of the other four in the house.”
“Affirmative,” I say while I get up and lean against a tree.
A shiver runs down my spine when I turn my head, and a humongous spider dangles right in front of my face. But now is not the right time to freak out, so I focus on Logan instead.
“Ready, sunshine?” he asks, his finger hovering over the trigger.
“Ready.”
A man leaves the cabin; and hits the ground before the one behind him even knows what’s going on. Logan fires another shot, and now it’s two against two. An easy job.
“Move,” he barks at me, slinging his rifle onto his back before he grabs his machine gun and starts running down the slope.
We’re almost at the run-down shack when bullets splinter the rotten wood in front of us. Unless these guys somehow acquired magical boomerang bullets, we have a fucking problem.
“Ambush,” I yell. “Taking cover south of the cabin.”
I see the guy on top of the hill a moment too late, and instead of striking his head, I only hit his shoulder.
He cries out and aimlessly fires at me for the few seconds it takes me to regain my focus.
My next shot is a perfect hit, and the man falls down.
The two guys who run toward him to help meet the same fate not long after.
Once the rain of bullets around me stops, a searing pain drags my attention to my left arm.
Shit.
Inside the cabin, Logan screams at someone, and I deem him distracted enough for the next five minutes. I take off my vest and my jacket to rip off a piece of fabric from my shirt and wrap the makeshift bandage around my arm.
It’s just a graze wound, and while this treatment is less than ideal, it’s still better than the risk of letting Logan see that I’m injured.
“You guys are good?” Sam asks over comms, a little out of breath.
“Fantastic,” Logan answers, so I put my gear back on and hurry inside the cabin to make sure he’s not flaying someone.