Logan (14 page)

Read Logan Online

Authors: Melissa Foster

BOOK: Logan
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I’m hoping to give you a few hours of remembering what it was like to live without watching your back.

“I heard you’re working for Dylan,” Jackson said, pulling her back to the conversation.

“Yes, for now.”

“For now? Do you hope to do something else?” Jackson glanced at Logan.

Hope?
No, she knew better than to hope. “Not really. Before I moved I worked as an interior designer. I really enjoyed it.”

“Interior design? Jackson, we could use her at the studio as a stager, can’t we? I mean, if you want to get out of the bartending business,” Cooper offered.

She glanced at Logan, who shrugged and smiled his approval. She was afraid to get excited. They were very high-profile photographers, which would surely lead Kutcher right to her.

“That’s really nice of you, but…”
I’m not sure if I’ll have to leave town again
,
or
if I’ll live for another week, or—

Logan draped an arm over her shoulder. “Thanks, Coop. She’s got a lot going on right now, but she may take you up on that offer in the future.”

“Interior design, that’s something I’ve always been interested in,” Mary Lou said. “Tell us about your family, Stella. Do you have any siblings?”

Stella had thought she’d escaped personal questions, since no one had asked her until now. She wondered if Logan had filled them all in on her situation, but apparently not. She was glad he hadn’t breached her confidence. Logan shifted his eyes to her and opened his mouth to say something, but just as he started to respond, his cell phone rang.

“Excuse me.” He withdrew his phone from his pocket and rose to his feet. He walked into the living room, and a minute later Stella heard the front door open and close.

Her stomach took a nosedive.

“Honey, you’re putting off some very nervous energy. Are you okay?” Mary Lou asked.

No, I’m not okay
.
I want to run after him and find out if the call is about Kutcher.
All eyes were on her as she fidgeted in her seat.

“Yes, I’m fine.”

A minute later the front door opened and Logan strode into the dining room with a stern set jaw and a sheen of determination in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Ma, but we have to take off.” Logan reached for Stella’s hand.

“What? Why?” his mother asked.

“Logan, anything we can help with?” Heath was on his feet in the blink of an eye, as were Jackson and Cooper.

Logan was already on the move, with one hand on Stella’s lower back, guiding her out the door, the other hand firmly around her upper arm. His brothers were right behind them.

“I’ve got this. Take care of Mom.”

Chapter Seventeen

“WHAT IS GOING on?” Stella asked as he helped her into the car. “Logan, please. Just tell me what’s going on.”

She had begun trembling the minute he’d taken her hand, and now the color had drained from her face. The call from the police had brought the best and the worst news. He hated that she’d have to face Kutcher again, but it was the only way to ensure that the dirtbag stayed behind bars for the longest possible time.

He climbed into the driver’s seat and started the car. “We have to go to Mystic.”

“Mystic?” Her voice cracked.

She reached for his hand.

She
trusted
him.

“Kanets talked, so Kutcher is being held. He can’t get out tomorrow, Stella. They’ll detain him and with a new trial, his sentence will likely be extended by several years.”

“So why do we have to go there?” Her voice shook as badly as her hand.

He kept his eyes on the road as he followed the ramp onto the busy highway.

“The only way to keep him behind bars for long enough to make a difference is for you to identify him as your assailant from the knife attack.”

She pulled her hand from his and moved closer to the passenger door. “No. No, Logan. I can’t do that. I won’t do that.”

“Why, Stella? Do you want to worry about him getting out in three years? Five years?” He reached for her hand, and she turned away. “Stella, if he’s in jail, he can’t hurt you. If you don’t do this, you’ll be afraid forever.”

Tears sprang from her eyes. “I don’t want to see him. I can’t. Logan, I can’t do this.”

“Stella—”

“No. I don’t want to see…” Sobs strangled her voice. “I can’t look at him.”

He pulled off at the next exit and drove into a parking lot.

“Please, Logan, don’t make me see him.” He came around to her side of the car, crouched beside her, and pulled her into his arms, holding her against him as sobs racked her body. He’d known he was taking a chance when he spoke to the police and turned in her phone and the bug he’d found in her picture frame. He’d known she’d hate the idea of identifying Kutcher to the police, but it was the only way to keep her safe.

“I know this is hard, Stella, but you can put him away for twenty years. Twenty years, baby. You can live your life, have a future without a fake name, without looking over your shoulder. You can see your mother.”

She fisted her hands in his shirt, burying her face in his chest. “I can’t.”

He appealed to her heart instead of her head. “Do you want him to go free and potentially hurt someone else?”

She held her breath.

“Breathe, baby. I’ve got you. Breathe. In and out.”

She let out a breath and hitched in another one.

“That’s it. That’s my girl.” He stroked her back, her head, held her tightly against him. He would breathe for her if he could. He knew how terrible facing Kutcher would be, but it was the only way.

“I’ll be right there with you, and he won’t be able to see you when you identify him.”

“But he’ll know.
I
was the one he attacked.”

Logan drew back and gazed into her damp, puffy eyes. “Baby, he can’t hurt you anymore. There are no more bugs. He can’t find you or bother you anymore. He’s going to stay behind bars for a long time, and you have the power to make that even longer. I will be right there with you.”

“But I’ve been awful to you.”

“No, baby. You’ve been afraid. You’re the strongest woman I know, and even if you don’t love me, I’ll always be there to protect you.”

Fresh sobs bubbled from her chest. “But I do. I do love you. I’m just so tired of being afraid, Logan, and I’m so scared all the time.”

“You don’t have to say that, Stormy.” The name slid from his lips like an endearment. She would always be
his
Stormy. “Don’t say what you don’t mean.”

“Logan, I do love you. God, you know I do. I fell for you the night we met, but I’m scared. Scared of losing you. Scared of being attacked. Scared of ruining your life because of Kutcher.”

He pulled her in close again, soaking in her words. “I know you are, but I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. You’ll never be alone again.” He felt her fingers dig into his skin as she fisted her hands in the back of his shirt, and he knew she was readying herself for something.

“Logan?” She looked directly into his eyes.

“Yes, darlin’?”

“I’ll do it. Kutcher’s taken enough of my life already. I’m not willing to let him take you away from me, too.”

Chapter Eighteen

IT HAD BEEN a long time since Stella had lived without fear, and at three o’clock in the morning, after filing the report and identifying Kutcher as her attacker, she took what felt like her first real breath in six months. A hazy glow surrounded the moon in the starless sky, barely illuminating the parking lot of the Mystic hotel. Stella had spent six months attuned to her surroundings. Six long months waiting to be attacked, sleeping with one eye and one ear open. She’d spent almost as long doing everything she could to separate herself from anything linking back to her mother. Now, thanks to the man who was opening the passenger door and reaching for her hand—the man who said he’d take care of her from the moment he’d rescued her from the guy in the alley and had proven it every minute since—she would get to see her mother in a few short hours.

She took Logan’s hand and walked silently into the brightly lit and elegant hotel lobby. The receptionist smiled up at them, her eyes lingering on Logan with appreciation and interest. Logan draped an arm over Stella’s shoulder and kissed her temple.

“We’d like your best suite, please,” Logan said.

“Yes, sir, and the name?” The pretty blonde fluttered her lashes flirtatiously.

Stella gazed into Logan’s eyes, lifted her chin, and for the first time in what felt like forever, proudly gave her name.

“Krane. Stella Krane.”

The suite was enormous, decorated with warm hues and boasting a view of the harbor. Stella stood at the balcony, thinking about how much her life had changed since Logan had come into it and anticipating seeing her mother tomorrow. She wished they could have made the ten-minute drive tonight, but it would only frighten her mother to have someone come to her door at such an early hour. Besides, she was sure she looked as tired as she felt. Logan’s arms circled her waist from behind. He pressed his cheek to hers, and she nestled against his chest.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” she whispered.

“Yes. You are.”

She reached up and touched his stubbly cheek, then turned in his arms. His eyes were warm, his embrace strong, and she knew she was right where she was supposed to be, but now that she knew that Kutcher would likely be out of the picture for many years, she allowed herself to want, and dream, and hope.

“I want to get to know you better, Logan.”

“Darlin’, you know me pretty damn well. You’ve even met my family.” He kissed her forehead.

“I want to know all of you. I want to know why you didn’t answer me about being scared for your mom, knowing your father’s killer is still out there.”

“That’s a lot of getting to know me.” Logan smiled, but it wasn’t a tense smile. He seemed okay with her request. “You may not like what you hear.”

“A very wise man told me that we couldn’t erase the past. You accepted my past without question. Your love and trust in me never wavered. I want you to know that whatever happened in your past, I accept it. I want to be part of your future, too.”

“You may change your mind.”

“No. I have faith in you. No matter what you tell me, I know that whatever happened in your past happened because it had to. Because you felt it was the right thing to do at the time, no matter what it was.”

He touched his forehead to hers and whispered, “I hope you mean that.”

“With all my heart.” She went up on her toes, twined her arms around his neck, and pressed her mouth to his. “Make love to me. I need you.”

“Stella.” A plea. “I want you more than I want to breathe, but if I make love to you and
then
tell you about my past and you decide to leave...” He looked away for a beat, his eyes awash with worry. “I thought I lost you for good last night. I can’t go through that again.”

He took her hand and led her inside to the couch.

“I’m not going to leave.” She couldn’t imagine being more in love with any man, but after the way she’d vacillated and what she’d put them through, she understood his hesitation. “I know I hurt you, and I hurt myself. You have no reason to trust my word, Logan. But I’m not going anywhere.”

“I trust your word. But what you think of me right now might change, no matter how good your intentions are.” He touched her cheek, and the side of his mouth quirked up in a pained smile.

He proceeded to tell her about his time with the SEALs, the number of people he’d killed, and what it had felt like when he’d looked into the enemies’ eyes and taken them down. He spoke with vehemence and passion, stopping several times to gather his thoughts or his courage—she wasn’t sure which. And then he sat quietly for a long while, gazing at their linked hands.

“Are you still with me?” he asked tentatively.

She moved closer to him, their thighs pressed against each other, hips touching. “More so than ever.”

He nodded, as if that pleased him, though his facial expression remained serious.

“What my mother told you was true. The police stopped searching for the man who blinded my mother and killed my father.” He pressed his finger and thumb to his eyes.

“You don’t have to continue.”

He nodded. “Yes. Yes, I do. If you think you want to make a life with me, you need to know.”

The torment in his voice nearly slayed her. “Okay,” she whispered.

“I was on a mission when my parents were attacked. I’ll never forgive myself for not being here. I know I might not have been around to save them, but that guilt will never leave—you need to understand that. It will always be a part of me, driving me in everything I do.”

“Okay.”

He nodded again, furrowing his brow. “I ran my own investigation and I found clues the police missed, but they dismissed me. I don’t blame them. I was off the wall, Stella. I wasn’t the man I am now. I lost my mind when my father died and my mom...” His eyes welled with tears and he turned away. “When Mom was…”

“Logan.”

His hands fisted. “I stormed into the precinct, demanding I don’t even know what. Justice, I guess. They saw me as a crazed son, distraught, out of my mind.” He stared straight ahead.

“I took it into my own hands. Talked to everyone I could, lived in the pawn shops until my dad’s family ring showed up. It was an antique, worth only a few hundred bucks. Waste of a life. I tracked the guy down who did it and went to the police, but they said there wasn’t enough evidence. My mom couldn’t identify him.”

“Oh, Logan.”

“I followed him. Guys like that, they have an MO and they don’t change much. I caught him casing a house, went back to the police again, but they ignored me, so…” He shook his head. “One night when I was tailing him, he broke into a house. Single mother, two-year-old son.” He gritted his teeth. “I called the police, and I waited. I waited, Stella. I wait—” He looked away again with pain-filled eyes.

An ache of foreboding clung to her. “Logan, you don’t have to fill me in on the rest.”

“I do. By the time I got inside, he had a knife to the woman’s throat. She looked right at me. Crying, begging me to help her. Her kid was screaming in the other room, and I didn’t think. I just reacted.”

Stella held her breath, struggling to remain focused around the obvious pain and guilt pulling Logan under.

“When I dragged him away from her, he slit her neck.” Logan’s voice cracked. “He had a gun in his waistband.”

She remembered the white trail that led down his body to a scar on his stomach. “Your scars.”

“Knife, bullet. I didn’t feel either. I heard that baby crying, saw the woman bleeding, and I attacked. I turned off all senses and just...” Logan clenched his eyes and mouth shut. He pressed both hands to the sides of his head, as if he could squeeze the memory from it, and bowed his head.

“I killed the motherfucker. I don’t know if the police came because of my phone call or if neighbors heard the attack. But they dragged me from his limp body.”

“The woman?”

He nodded. “She needed thirty stitches, but she survived. She moved away shortly after that. I killed him, Stella.”

“You were stabbed and shot.” He’d saved them both even with life-threatening wounds. Thoughts filtered through her mind, but she was too stunned to speak.
Committed. Strong. Logan
.

“I killed the bastard, and they found this in his wallet.” He pulled out his wallet and showed her his father’s ID card from the factory where he’d worked.

“But your mother?”

“She doesn’t know I killed him. She just knows that she’s safe.” Logan scrubbed his hand down his face. When he lifted his eyes to hers, a tear slipped down her cheek. Logan reached up and wiped it away with his thumb. “I’m sorry, darlin’. It’s too much. That’s why I wanted to tell you before we ended up in bed together.”

She pressed his hand to her cheek. “No, Logan. It’s not too much. I think I love you more than I did before you told me.”

That night when their bodies joined together, their love felt new and different. She saw heartrending tenderness in Logan’s gaze as he studied her, loved her, his hands playing over her body as if he were memorizing all of her. His touch made her senses spin and her body ache for more. She was extremely conscious of his virility and his sensuality. Roughness was replaced with soothing passion, and words like
fuck
were obliterated from her mind by warmer, more loving thoughts.

“I want to cherish you, adore you. I want to taste every inch of your silky skin,” he whispered as he studied the dips and curves of her body.

His appreciative gaze roved over her, followed by his mouth, his tongue, his talented fingers. He shifted, gently tucking her curves beneath his firm, muscular frame, and finally—
God, finally
—he slid inside her. Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, stoking the flames burning within her, deepening and intensifying their love. He filled her completely with every loving word, every passionate kiss, every thrust of his powerful hips, shattering her last shred of control and taking them into a sea of pure, explosive pleasure.

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