Текст книги "Blow"

Автор книги: Kim Karr

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

ELLE

Something wasn’t right.

I pulled into the side driveway of Michael’s corner lot and put my car in park. With a flick of the switch, the interior light turned on and I proceeded to search the floor. It wasn’t there.

My garage door opener was missing, and for some reason the button programmed into the vehicle hadn’t worked in weeks.

Feeling slightly panicky, I opened the glove compartment. It wasn’t there either. Maybe I’d stuffed it in my purse. After all, I did it all the time when I’d take Clementine for walks. I reached for my bag and realized it wasn’t the same purse I’d used this week. That one I’d left behind at the boutique.

Clementine had fallen asleep in her car seat and I wanted to get her in her crib and avoid the cold while doing so.

To be certain the repair shop hadn’t moved it, I lifted the center console lid and rummaged through it.

Something sparkled.

My eyes dipped down and I reached inside. When I picked the charm up, my fingers trembled. Sucking in a breath, I pinched the silver and turned it around. But I didn’t need to. The glistening of the small speck of a diamond was all I needed to see to know for certain. Still, I read the inscription anyway.

It was the charm from the bracelet my sister had given me for my tenth birthday. The same one I threw at her the day she left.

My heart stilled as the memory flooded me and I tried to hold back the tears.

“Happy birthday,” my mother and sister sang as the candles flamed before me.

Just as I was blowing them out, the door swung open and my father strode in. I froze in mid-blow, but the candles went out anyway.

Traitors.

His eyes darted to my mother. “You couldn’t wait?”

“It’s almost ten, Henry, and the girls have school tomorrow.”

He disarmed and left his gun on the counter where he always did. We were living in Germany at the time and since we’d just arrived, we didn’t really know anyone, so we had no one to invite to my party.

Not that we ever would have invited anyone anyway.

“Let’s eat the cake,” he said, more jovial than he’d been in a long time.

My mother smiled at him and started cutting it.

It was strange; I felt like we were a family. That didn’t happen often.

My father moved closer to the table and gave her a kiss. “Did you give Gabby her present?” he asked my mother excitedly.

She sniffed him and twisted her head. “No, not yet. Where have you been?”

His demeanor changed instantly. “I told you, I had a meeting. Now let me give Gabby her present. Where did you hide it?”

My mother looked upset. “It’s in my purse. I’ll get it in a moment.”

As my mother was cutting the cake, my father disappeared into the mudroom, where my mother always hung her purse.

Everything had a place in our house.

My mother gave me the first piece and then turned around to hand my father a slice, but he hadn’t returned yet. I guess she never realized he’d left the room. “Henry?”

“He went to get my present, Mommy,” I said excitedly.

There was a growl-like sound from the mudroom. “Susan!”

My mother paled right before us.

A thud had us all jumping.

“What’s the matter, Mommy?” Lizzy asked.

She set the cake down. “Go to your room, girls.”

“But Mommy, I haven’t finished my cake or opened my present.”

Lizzy stood and tugged on my nightgown. “Come on, Gabby.”

I shook my head.

My father appeared in the doorway holding a round, pink compact in his hand. His eyes were dark and his demeanor was now terrifying.

“Go, girls,” my mother said, beckoning us. “Now.”

Lizzy pulled me along and I went, but my eyes never left his.

“Susan,” he said again, even more sternly.

“I can explain, Henry.”

Before I was out of the kitchen doorway, I saw him take the handle of his gun and start pounding on the compact. Small pills were being crushed. I watched him, and then he glanced up and saw me. “You are supposed to be in your room,” he barked, and took a step toward me with his hands on his belt.

“No, Henry. No!” my mother yelled.

My sister pulled me harder and I followed her. With each step I could hear my father behind me.

As soon as she closed our door, he locked it.

He locked us in.

“Susan!” he yelled.

I heard her patter down the hallway. “Henry, we need to talk about this.”

“How long?”

There wasn’t an answer.

“How long have you been taking birth control pills?”

“Not as long as it took you to find another whore,” she spat.

His laugh was wicked. “I wouldn’t have to seek pussy elsewhere if you’d let me inside you when I need you. But that’s about to change right now, Susan. No more options for you. Now tell me, how long?”

My mother was whispering and I couldn’t hear her.

“My house. My rules. Get to our room, now!”

“Henry, we need to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m going to have to punish you. I can’t let this go. You’re deliberately keeping something from me that I really want. What kind of wife does that to her husband?”

Even my sister had sat on her bed and was listening. We were both scared. We’d been punished with his belt a few times. Would he do that to our mother?

Their door shut.

“Give me your wrist,” he said. “Give it to me, Susan.”

“You don’t have to tie me up, Henry. You can have me.”

“I can have you? I can have you! You’re mine. I don’t have to have your permission. I’ve let you get away with your ‘I have a headache, I don’t feel well, the girls are awake, I’m really sick today’ excuses long enough. From now on, when I want you, you’re mine. Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” she said calmly. She wasn’t as upset as she usually was.

“I thought we had an understanding, Susan.”

“So did I.”

He laughed. “What? You’re upset because I’m putting my dick in someone who wants me?”

“Yes. You promised me you wouldn’t do that again.”

“I have needs that you can’t meet. When you can, I won’t have to seek alternate outlets. But Susan, you’re distracting me from the issue. The problem isn’t me or who I have to fuck because you can’t satisfy my needs. It’s what you’ve been doing behind my back. I provide for this family and you grow it. That was our deal. I’m doing my part but you’re not doing yours. Do I have to stop providing for you to understand? Leave you and girls on your own? With nothing. Would you like that?”

She didn’t answer.

“Do I?” He yelled louder.

“No,” she cried.

I knew she was scared to be on her own. I’d heard her talking to someone about it once.

“I didn’t think so. Now give me your ankle.”

I left my bed and went to sit next to my sister. “What’s he doing?”

“I think he’s tying her up.”

“Why?” I gasped.

She shook her head. “Because she doesn’t want to have any more babies.”

That thumping started again, but there were no cries from my mother and no yelling from my father.

It was scarier than when there were.

My sister ran to the window and opened it. “Come over here, Gabby.”

I did.

She opened her dresser, which was beside the window, and handed me a small box with a red ribbon around it. “Here, happy birthday. This is from me. Mommy let me buy it with my babysitting money.”

I looked at her.

“Open it.”

I did. Inside was a delicate silver chain with a silver disc on it. On one side was a tiny diamond chip. On the other the words, “Blow, just blow,” were engraved.

“Blow, just blow, Gabby. Everything will be okay.”

I turned the charm around and pretended the diamond chip was a dandelion and blew.

We heard the thumping off and on all night. I’m not sure if we fell asleep or not, but around seven the next morning, our door unlocked.

“Get yourselves ready for school, girls, and make some breakfast. The bus will be here in thirty minutes,” my father commanded.

My mother always had our breakfast ready and walked us to the bus stop. I opened the door and saw my father walking into the kitchen. I tiptoed to my parents’ bedroom door and knocked, but my father was back before I opened the door. “Your mother isn’t feeling well. Now go on and get moving. You don’t want to miss the bus.”

I did as he said.

My sister had to babysit after school for our neighbor and when I came home, my father was there. He didn’t have a shirt on and he was dressed in the same pants he had been wearing this morning. Beer bottles cluttered the table. I knew he hadn’t gone to work.

He looked up from the papers he was reading. “You got homework?”

I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Go to your room and do it. And Gabrielle,” he said.

My body started to tremble.

“When Elizabeth gets home, have her make you some dinner and go straight to bed. Your mother will get you off to school in the morning.”

His words were slightly slurred, but I understood we were not to disturb him.

I nodded again and walked down the hallway. Instead of going to my room, though, I went to my parents’ room. I didn’t knock. I just opened the door. My mother was lying on the bed, not moving. I was petrified.

Until she glanced up.

She must have been sleeping.

“Go, Gabby, go. Please,” she pleaded.

Her tearstained face was all I could see and I hated that she’d been crying.

“Go, before you sees you in here.”

Terrified, I looked around the room. The rug had been moved to the foot of the bed and rope was tied around the posts, but everything else seemed in place. Not understanding what was really going on, I shut the door and ran to my room. A few minutes later I heard the lock of my door.

That thumping that drove me mad started right afterward. This time my father was louder, groaning and talking to my mother. “I’m sorry, Susan. I don’t want to hurt you, but I need to be inside you.”

“I’m fine,” she said, no inflection in her voice.

“You’re not. I can tell.”

“I want to see the girls.”

“Tomorrow. This is for your own good.”

“How is keeping me away from my children for my own good.”

“It’s the only way I can think of to make you understand I have needs, too.”

What am I not giving you?”

“Besides a son to carry on my name, your attention.”

“You are always at work,” she muttered.

“Yes, Susan, I’m at work and my work is stressful. I can’t afford to be so tightly wound. There are times I need you to help relieve my stress and you just refuse me. If you want me to be able to continue to provide for this family, you have to be available to me more than you are.”

She muttered something.

“Don’t be mad.”

She didn’t respond to his form of apology.

“Don’t be mad, baby.”

Still, no response.

He said it again. Over and over, until I couldn’t stand the sound of his voice.

When I thought I might scream, I ran to the window and held up my bracelet. Blowing on it, all I wished for was that the incessant thumping end.

Something had happened that day. Some kind of switch had turned off for my mother. She was never the same after that. She didn’t cry anymore at night. Sure, I heard the thumping, and my father’s words, “I need to be inside you,” but that was all I ever heard again. Her cries in the night were gone.

Clementine started to cry and jolted me from the space in my head.

Had my sister been in the car, or had the charm been there the entire three months I’d been driving it?

I wasn’t sure, and I wasn’t sure if I would ever know.

Clementine’s cries continued, and I pulled her juice cup from my bag and handed it to her. She smiled. Happy and content once again, she leaned against the seat and drank from her cup.

Locked out of the garage, I backed down the side driveway, rounded the corner, and pulled up to the curb in front of Michael’s regal-looking brick home. There were no front lights on, and that made me nervous. They were on a timer, so they should have been on.

Was I being paranoid?

I contemplated for several seconds what to do before deciding what was best. I’d hurry up the walk to unlock the house and turn the lights on before I brought Clementine in.

She’d be safe. I wouldn’t be far away and I wouldn’t be long. I looked back at Clementine. She was chewing on the cup now. “I’ll be right back, silly girl.”

With a quick turn, I removed the keys from the ignition. My hands were shaking as I took the gun from my purse. Locking the car doors, I hurried up the walk.

That’s when I saw a shadow flicker across the only room in the house that had a light on. It was Michael’s office and he often forgot to turn it off, but the movement was what frightened me.

I gripped the gun tighter.

Logan had said, “Shoot to kill,” and that’s what I planned to do.

Was it my imagination, though?

Tree branches from the wind maybe?

A red light seemed to be blinking in the study.

I stared through the window, trying to figure out what it was. I couldn’t. Was I really seeing something? Was it my imagination? When I saw the same shadow again, I knew what I seeing had to be real.

I scanned the dark street and my entire body started to tremble. Without a doubt, I had seen movement in Michael’s office. I was now certain that someone was inside.

I glanced back at the car and the thought of Clementine being alone terrified me. I started to run to get to her, but I tripped on a step on the pathway, which landed me on my back.

Pain tore through me and I wasn’t certain I hadn’t sprained something, but my fear was greater than the pain. Forcing myself to move, I got up and somehow managed to stumble to the car. When it was within reach, I used it for leverage to help guide me around to my door.

Once inside, I pressed my foot on the gas hard. I had to get out of there. About ten minutes later, when I reached a busy intersection and the adrenaline that had been pumping through my veins slowed, I slumped forward. Feeling the weight of everything going on, the only thing I knew for certain was that I couldn’t take the chance of anything happening to Clementine.

And that’s why I was going where I was going.

It was the only place I could feel safe.

LOGAN

I lifted the lid to my laptop and fired it up.

My fingers hovered over the keys.

I typed two words, four syllables, Michael O’Shea, and then hit the delete key over and over.

I made another attempt, retyping the same words.

There was a knock on my hotel room door and without overthinking it, I pressed send. I shut the lid to my computer and then grabbed my SIG. I approached the door with caution and stood to the side. “Who’s there?”

“Logan, it’s me, Elle.”

My heart thundered in my chest.

I knew her voice before she even said her name.

What was wrong?

What had happened?

I tucked the gun behind my back and swung the door open as fast as I could.

She stood there with one of those folding strollers that cradled a sleeping Clementine in it, a bag on each shoulder and her purse right at her hand.

Good girl.

My heart clenched as I allowed myself a quick look at her before scanning the hall.

She looked terrified. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know where else to go. The front desk had my name and sent me up. I hope you don’t mind.”

My eyes came back to her and our gazes collided. Again, I allowed myself just a quick glance. She looked to be physically unharmed. Without hesitation, I quickly stepped into the hall. Holding the door open with my bare foot, I looked to the right and then the left. I didn’t see anyone. “Elle,” I said, taking her bags from her and urging her forward. “It’s fine. But why aren’t you at O’Shea’s?”

Had my assumption been wrong? Was he incapable of caring for Elle and his daughter?

With urgency, she pushed the stroller inside. “He’s not there.”

“Where the fuck is he?” I asked way too loud.

Elle turned to face me.

That goddamn vulnerability was all I could see. I had to drop my gaze just to keep my distance. I felt an odd need to get close. See her even closer. Make sure she was really, truly okay.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” she said again, this time even more shakily.

The fear in her voice rattled me, and I stepped closer to her and grabbed her arms. As soon as my fingers wrapped around them, I felt a flame light from within me that hadn’t stirred in years. After that, I couldn’t stop the flood of feelings that were coursing through me. Seriously, what the hell was going on with me?

Control.

I was all about it.

I had to regain it.

I drew in a deep breath and let it wrap around me. With my armor in place, I slowly looked her up and down one more time. She didn’t appear to be hurt. “What happened?” I asked, making certain my voice was at an even keel.

Tension eased from her and she let out a relieved sigh. “Can I put Clementine somewhere and then we can talk?”

Keenly aware that the two of us being alone in a hotel room probably wasn’t the best idea, I shoved the remaining strange feelings I had deep down within me. Just a slight chink in my armor. Nothing to worry about. But the protectiveness that was surging under my skin might be. Needing to ensure her and the baby’s safety, I reached behind and turned the lock. The entire time I never let my gaze leave hers.

Forcing myself to be mechanical, a moment later I said, “Yeah, of course. Do you want to lay her on my bed?”

Elle looked at me with uncertainty.

I nodded at her. I wasn’t going to let anything to happen to her. If she didn’t know that, I’d show her. I twisted to put the chain on the door and when I turned back, I looked at her again. She was still looking at me. That look was putting more dents in my armor. Mentally punching them out, I crossed the room and set her bags on the table in the corner. With a flick of my eyes, I saw she was still looking at me. She was weary, worried. I felt compelled to reassure her. “It’s okay, Elle, she’ll be safe in there. I promise.”

Elle was exhausted, I could tell. The circles under her eyes weren’t the only sign. I could see it not only in the way she looked but the way she moved. Possibly realizing I was assessing her state of duress, she dropped her gaze and attempted to push the stroller across the plush carpet. When she couldn’t, she gingerly bent down to pick up Clementine, but just as she was about to scoop her up she stiffened and winced, her hand reaching for her back.

She was hurt.

Fuck me.

Not being able to stand the thought of her in pain, my feet moved like lightning to where she was standing. “Here, let me,” I said, and without really thinking it through, I picked up the sleeping baby girl. But once she was in my arms, I started to panic. I’d never held a baby before. I wasn’t sure what to do. She was lighter than I would have thought. And so much more fragile than anyone should be.

My uncertainty was rising.

And like an idiot, I just stood here.

“Is that the bedroom?” Elle pointed.

“Yeah,” I breathed, trying to keep my shit together.

What had happened to her?

Elle walked into the room and turned the lamp on.

My feet moving on their own, I followed her.

Standing stiffly, she pulled back the covers and placed pillows on each side, leaving an opening in the middle.

“Here?” I bobbed with my head toward the gap.

“Yes, this way she won’t roll off.”

Roll off!

Fuck.

I carefully set the sleeping baby where I was instructed. I sighed in relief once she was safely out of my arms, but I couldn’t stop staring at her. She was a beautiful little thing.

Elle pulled the covers over her and made sure the pillows were secure. “Let me just get her blanket and see if I can find Rosie.”

I followed her out of the bedroom and watched her rummage through one of the bags. “Rosie?”

She glanced up. “It’s a large silver rattle shaped like an elephant’s face that dangles from a red ribbon. For some reason she’s attached to it.”

With that, I turned back to what had been eating at me. “What happened to your back?” I asked, unable to wait one minute longer to find out.

I had all kinds of things running through my mind.

She pulled a few items out of her bag. “I tripped on a step. I’m fine, really.”

Irritated at her cavalier attitude, I snapped, “When did this happen?” I wasn’t sure she was telling me the truth.

“Just before I came here,” she told me.

My eyes scanned the length of her body, looking for further injuries. I was forced to stop when she found what she needed, because she turned and headed back into the bedroom and out of my sight.

Not knowing what to do, I picked up the phone and dialed room service.

“How can I help you tonight?” the voice answered.

“Can I get a bucket of ice, some bottles of water, and a burger and fries?”

Elle came out of the room and pulled the door partially closed.

“How would you like the burger cooked, sir?” the operator asked.

“Medium.”

I wasn’t sure if she’d eaten, but I knew she needed ice.

“We’ll send it up,” the operator said.

“Oh, and can you send a few cartons of milk?” Babies drink milk, or most do, I thought. I hung up, then looked over at Elle, who was searching her bag. “Does Clementine drink milk?”

She gave me a small smile. “Yes, she does. But she should be out for the night.”

“I’ll put it in the refrigerator then, just in case.”

She nodded and went back in the bedroom. I felt like she was gone for hours before she emerged and carefully took a seat on the sofa.

I wasted no time. “How about you tell me what’s going on?” I tried to keep my voice down.

“It’s probably nothing,” she answered.

I sat on the sofa—not too close, but not that far away. “Tell me what happened. Where is O’Shea?”

She took a pillow and placed it behind her back. “Michael called me late this afternoon. He got called to New York City. Something last minute. It’s not unusual.”

“The fucker left you alone with the baby?” I seethed.

She reached over and placed her hand on me. “Logan, he still doesn’t know anything about what happened yesterday. I hadn’t gotten a chance to tell him yet.”

The heat of her fingers on my thigh caused my pulse to race. I looked at where her hand was. My blood was roaring as the lust I was feeling coursed through my veins. She was trying to calm me down and instead I was getting aroused.

I shifted awkwardly in my seat. I couldn’t think while she was touching me. Needing to lose the connection, I shuffled to my feet.

I was such an asshole.

Elle quickly folded her hands together in her lap and I swear I saw a thankful look on her face. Had she done that without thinking? Did she feel what I felt?

Still way too close, the flames from the stoking fire were roaring. I glanced at her and hoped they would die soon. With a slight shake of my head and a step back, I refocused on what was important. “That’s bullshit. He shouldn’t be leaving you alone with his kid.”

What was his game? I’d seen him at the garage. What was on that paper? Did the fucker run?

She just stared at me like I was the crazy motherfucker.

Okay, so I was being a dick. I needed to let her finish. I drew in a breath. “Sorry, go on.”

She still looked at me.

I put a hand up. “I’m cool.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, Elle.” I tried to keep my voice tight.

“I might just be unnecessarily acting paranoid.”

“Tell me,” I urged.

“Well, after I picked up Clementine and we got to Michael’s house, my garage door opener was missing from the car.”

“And then what?” I asked her, impatient to get to it.

“I drove around to the front and noticed the lights were off. That’s unusual. They’re on a timer. I got out to check the house before I brought Clementine in and that’s when I saw someone inside. Or I think I did. I saw shadows moving in Michael’s office. I didn’t stick around to make sure. I just turned and ran. That’s when I fell.”

My heart in my throat, I hated to even ask this. “Was someone chasing you?”

She shook her head vehemently. “No, I didn’t see anyone. I didn’t go any farther than the walkway, though. As soon as I was certain I saw movement, I ran to my car and drove here. I’m sorry, Logan. I didn’t know what else to do.”

She was more scared than she was letting on. I went and sat beside her, closer this time. “Hey, don’t be sorry.”

“I didn’t know what else to do,” she repeated again.

Nothing mattered but making sure she knew she’d done the right thing. I took her face in my hands. “You did the right thing.”

We looked at each other.

Her lips parted. My breathing was heavy.

Was I really considering kissing her?

The knock on the door had me pulling my hands away. It saved me from making a dumb-ass move.

Elle, however, jumped.

“Hey . . . it’s okay, it’s just room service. I told you, you’re safe here,” I reassured her. I wasn’t being entirely honest. Yes, she was safe here, but she wasn’t safe with me. And somehow I had to tell her that.

The guy in white stood there with a tray. I didn’t let him past me. I searched the hallway, saw no one else, signed the slip, and then I wheeled the cart in myself. “Thanks,” I told him.

“Have a good night,” he replied.

With the door closed and locked up tight again, the first thing I did was grab a towel and pour some ice in it. Tying it up, I handed it to her. “Here, put this on your back.”

She took it and slid it behind her to rest on the pillow and then leaned on it. “Thank you.”

“Did you eat?” I asked, keeping my distance.

Close was bad. I couldn’t seem to control my libido.

“No, but I’m not hungry,” she answered.

Ignoring her comment, I took the plate of food and set it on her lap. “You should eat.”

She lifted the lid. “I’ll share it with you.”

My whole body tightened. Share. I could do that. Put the food between us. Keep my thoughts on what mattered. Back to mechanical steps, I put the milk in the refrigerator and brought two bottles of water over. I set them on the coffee table and sat down. Trying unsuccessfully to not really look at Elle, I grabbed the ketchup bottle and poured some out on the plate, then grabbed a fry. “Your turn.”

She pinched a fry and dipped it in the ketchup. She seemed calmer, more relaxed, and I was glad. “Can I ask you something?” she said after a few bites of the burger.

I leaned back on the couch and saw her eyes travel the length of me. My blood started pumping again. “Yeah, sure.” I shifted in my seat.

After chewing, she asked, “Are you related to Killian McPherson?”

I should have hesitated. I should have hated dirtying her with the knowledge. But I didn’t. It was a gateway into what I had to tell her anyway. And hopefully, once she knew, it would make her want to avoid any sexual involvement with me. She needed to stay close to me, though, until I knew she would be safe. I dropped my head but raised my eyes. “Yeah, he’s my grandfather.”

Stunned, she set the plate down. “Logan, are you in the Mafia?”

That was direct.

My head snapped up. “Fuck no.”

She didn’t look convinced.

Somehow, I found myself leaning toward her. It was like I was a magnet, drawn to her, no matter how much distance I put between us. “First of the all, the Mafia is Italian. The Mob is Irish. Not that it matters. But anyway, my grandfather and my father worked really hard to make sure I kept my distance. I’m not a part of that organization. And my father is just what I told you, Patrick’s legal counsel. Nothing more.”

She pulled the towel filled with ice from behind her back. The cubes started falling out. “Then why were you with him last night?”

I took the towel from her and scooped the cubes up. “Here, let me fix it.”

She shook her head. “It’s fine.” She was staring at me, waiting for me to explain.

There was no denying the way we’d crossed paths. “Things have changed recently for my old man, and I’ve been going with him on ‘calls’ whenever I can.” I tried to tell her as much as I could without telling her more than she needed to know.

She rubbed her fingers around her eyes. “Look, Logan, I already know my sister must have been involved with something really bad or Michael wouldn’t be jumping through hoops to try to fix it. And by doing so, I can only guess that now Michael is involved in something equally as dangerous. The question is, should I be worried for myself and Clementine?”

The towel was dripping on my pants, so I set it in on the table, and then I stupidly moved closer. “I’m not going to lie to you or try to make you feel better. I’m going to be honest. Yes, you should.”

“Now you’re really scaring me.”

“I don’t want to, but you need to understand how dangerous this situation is. What do you know about the drug ring?”

She pulled her legs up. “Nothing. I don’t know anything.”

My eyes met hers. Was she lying? I had no idea, but I chose to believe her and tell her what I could. “Patrick Flannigan, the guy who runs the organization my father works for, is the one that told my pop to pay O’Shea a visit. It was a warning, not a social call. Patrick is a dangerous man and his son, even more so. O’Shea might not realize it, but he is in over his head. You have to believe me about this, Elle.”

She sat still, as if absorbing my every word.

“What’s he doing? What’s his plan?”

My question jarred her. She twitched a bit and then reached for a bottle of water. “I don’t know.”

I narrowed my eyes at her.

“I don’t. He doesn’t tell me anything.”

That only made the guy a bigger ass in my eyes. I took a deep breath. “Any chance you can take Clementine and get out of town for a week or so?”

She took a swallow of water and seemed to move subconsciously closer to me.

My body reacted to her close proximity. My eyes were focused on her. I couldn’t help but watch the path that the liquid took as it moved down her throat. Every minute I spent with her, I found myself wanting her more and more.

I couldn’t stop it.

I wanted to ease her pain.

But it was my cock that was really feeling the pain of it. It was rock hard. And tough shit, there was no relief coming anytime soon.

It took her a second, but she looked at me and I cleared my lustful thoughts. “No, I can’t. I just opened the boutique. I couldn’t possibly leave. I only have Peyton and Rachel to help me with it, and besides, I have nowhere to go even if Michael lets me take her.”

“Okay, I get it. But you have to think of yourself. I want to help you, but I can’t if I don’t know what he has planned. You need to sit down with O’Shea and make him tell you what’s in his head.” I had to be straight. There was no dancing around it. He didn’t have time to fuck around.

She nodded. “I’ll try.”

“You have to tell me what he tells you.”

She looked hesitant.

“That’s the only way I can help you.”

“Logan, I just don’t know. I’m risking a lot by being here, but something inside me tells me I’m safer here than anywhere else. What I don’t get, though, is . . . why do you want to help me? Aren’t we supposed to be on opposite sides?”