Текст книги "Crush "

Автор книги: Kim Karr

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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 27 страниц)

It was the longest fucking ten minutes of my life, but finally the Seaport Hotel was in sight. I strode through the lobby like I belonged there, hit the up arrow at the bank of elevators, and casually stepped into one when the doors opened. Beneath my calm exterior I was screaming, because my time of reckoning had finally come.

I stabbed the button for the fifth floor and the elevator seemed to crawl up to it. In the hallway, it felt a little surreal. I glanced down and was shocked to see my white knuckles and the ropes of muscle straining against the backs of my hands. I shook off any doubt. I had no choice but to do this. I’d use my fists. If I beat him to a pulp and he didn’t recover, I couldn’t be charged with premeditated murder. The law was flashing through my mind. Murder in the first degree. Voluntary manslaughter. Involuntary manslaughter. It didn’t matter; all would come with a prison term.

If I killed this motherfucker tonight I was going to be without Elle in my life. If I didn’t, if I turned around right now, I was going to have to let her go.

It was a lose-lose situation all the way around. But the come and get me if you dare note Tommy had sent me was sent for a reason, and I was going to find out what that reason was.

My strides were long. Room 500, 502, 504, 506, 508, and finally 510. Focused on the gold numbers, I reached my destination in less than three seconds.

Without even thinking about it, I lifted my leg and kicked the door in, throwing the entire weight of my body into it. Luckily, this hotel was old and so were the doors.

Barreling into the room, I was shocked when I saw him. I had to remind myself that this time I wasn’t going to be held down by three men while he wielded his knife at me.

Yes, it had been a very long time since we were face-to-face, and there he was, looking the same. Like time had never passed. His eyes met mine with a dare, a come-and-get-me, and then he scampered from the bed to the floor in less than a heartbeat. On his feet, he stumbled backwards. “It’s been a long time,” he snickered.

I clenched my teeth and drew in a breath to calm the fury surging through my veins. “Not long enough.”

“You got my note?”

My blood started to pump so fast that I could hear my heartbeat thumping in my ears. “I did. But you already know that. Why else would I be here?”

That grin was back. “A friendly chat between old friends.”

“Fuck you,” I spat.

He shook his head. “Not one to let bygones be bygones?”

Ignoring the shit spewing from his mouth, I rushed forward and slammed my fist into his face. “What do you want from me?”

He bounced off the wall and I grabbed his shoulders before he slumped to the ground. Kneeing him in the gut, hitting him hard enough to lift his feet off the floor, I then let him tumble down. “We need to talk,” he managed.

With his face on the floor, I placed my foot on his back and pressed.

He yelped like a dog.

“Talk!” I barked out.

“Let me turn around.”

Easing my foot away, I stepped back but kept my gun pointed.

Slowly, he turned over and wiped the blood from his mouth.

“I’m waiting,” I sneered.

Instead of talking, he lunged for the gun that was sticking out from under the mattress.

Motherfucker.

“Freeze!” someone shouted.

“Hands up, now!” someone else yelled.

My eyes darted to the door. Agent Blanchet was standing in the doorway with a swarm of agents surrounding her.

No effing way.

She walked over to me. “I want you out of here.”

I stared at her.

“Now, McPherson. Don’t make me take you in and then process paperwork to get you out, because that will really piss me off.”

Tommy never made it to his gun, but his laughter made my ears ring. He was off the floor in cuffs in two seconds flat. Surrounded by five agents, there was nothing I could do to get to him.

“Now,” Agent Blanchet repeated and started shoving me out of the room.

I wanted to deck her but knew that would get me nowhere. With slow strides, I headed for the door.

“Hey!” Tommy hissed.

I turned around.

“Don’t think that girl of yours is any safer with me behind bars. If you were a good boy and followed the rules, there wouldn’t be an issue. Would there? So for her sake, you will stay away from her now because you know I have eyes, and hands, and a few hundred dicks, everywhere.”

“You motherfucking piece of shit,” I growled and lunged for him.

“Get him out of here.” Blanchet’s voice was loud as she pointed toward Tommy.

Hands were holding me back and a weird rush of fear washed through me as I watched Tommy being dragged out of the room.

It was like time stood still and I couldn’t move.

I had no idea how much time passed or when whoever was holding onto me had released their grip but when I blinked, I realized the room was quiet. I looked around.

Agent Blanchet was the only one in the room and she was staring at the doorway. “You can come in,” she said.

As if everything were happening in slow motion, I glanced toward the direction of her voice.

In the doorway was Declan. “Sorry, man, I had to follow you. I wasn’t letting you go it alone.” He pointed to Blanchet. “Turns out, she’d been following us and she nabbed me in the lobby before I could make it to you. She forced me to tell her what room you were in.”

Fuck, I knew she’d been on me. I should have been even more careful.

“Good thing he fessed up quickly.” Her voice was like cold steel.

My eyes darted to hers, and they were swimming with that same cold steel.

“Listen, McPherson, you’re walking a very thin line. My patience is wearing down.”

I scrubbed my hand down my face. “What the fuck more do you want from me?”

She glared at me like I should fucking know.

And I did know. I just hoped to fuck she didn’t know. Know what I’d done—that I’d committed a felony.

Finally, she spoke. “You should have called me when you found out where Tommy was. I don’t want to have to put a tail on you every fucking time I suspect you know more than you’re telling me.”

I stared at her blankly because thank God, she didn’t know that I’d relocated the drugs.

“Next time you pull something like this, I’m going to haul your ass in.” She pointed to herself. “I’m the law, not you. Do you understand me?”

I nodded but tuned everything else out.

This whole thing had just gotten so much worse.

Even behind bars, Tommy wasn’t going to leave Elle alone. As if I hadn’t already known it, he’d told me so himself. And now there was nothing I could do about it.

Elle and I had just forged some kind of commitment and I was going to be forced to break it.

What had happened tonight?

So much.

Way too much.

It was hard to believe that just hours ago I’d crossed the line an attorney should never cross. I’d tampered with evidence. In truth, I’d committed a felony by relocating a shitload of cocaine that had since been confiscated, and people in connection to it arrested.

Not just people.

My enemies. My foes.

Patrick.

His crew.

Now Tommy.

And I had put them there.

I should be happy.

I wasn’t.

I also should be worried about what would happen to me.

I wasn’t.

The only thing on my mind right now was, what am I going to do to make sure Elle stays safe?

Because I was screwed.

Although a lot of the Blue Hill Gang members had been arrested, not all of them had been locked up. There were too many of them. And besides, some would be out on bail within hours. I also knew Tommy was into something else, something drug related, and those connections would go beyond jail. I was certain he would reach out to them as soon as he could.

The fact was—I couldn’t keep Elle safe.

Not always.

Something could happen to her if I stayed with her.

Maybe something bad.

Chills ran through me.

Something like what Tommy had done before to Kayla, a girl I was casually seeing, the girl I made the mistake of bringing back to Boston one weekend, or like what he had done recently to Elle’s employee and friend, Peyton. Although I had no proof, I was certain Tommy had caught a glimpse of Peyton and me together on the street and then later attacked her, sending her to the hospital with an E carved in her stomach.

An E I had wrongly believed was meant to remind me of his dead sister, Emily. Emily, the girl I’d made the mistake of fucking when I was fifteen, which subsequently led to a teen pregnancy and ultimately to her suicide. That event had not only changed my life, but my father’s and grandfather’s lives as well.

Back then, Emily’s father had been the head of the Dorchester Heights Gang, a smaller Irish Mob, and he wanted to be top dog, but my paternal grandfather had held that position in the Blue Hill Gang. The situation I inadvertently created gave Emily’s father the ammunition he needed to make his move and ascend his rank.

Patrick Flannigan was ruthless.

The rule on the street was “A life for a life,” and he demanded obedience.

Regardless of the circumstances, as a consequence of my actions, my father had been providing his legal services to Patrick for the past twelve years. In exchange for my life my father traded his life in service for Emily’s death.

A life for a life.

But that wasn’t enough for Patrick. He wanted more. The details behind my grandfather’s dissent from power were sketchy, but eventually my grandfather handed over his leadership, his gang, to Patrick.

This went against code. This wasn’t a life for a life. But the situation was grave and my family did what they needed to do to protect me.

Patrick didn’t follow the rules, and neither did his son.

Where did this leave me now?

Right where I knew it always would. Having to do what I didn’t want to do—listen to Tommy’s threat and disassociate myself from Elle. It was absolutely the best solution.

“Hey, man, you okay?”

I looked at Declan. Tried to focus. But couldn’t. That weird rush of fear I’d felt earlier was suddenly paralyzing.

“We need to go. Agent Blanchet said you had five minutes to get out of here.”

I looked around. He was the only one left in the room. “Yeah, yeah, right. Do you think I could crash at your place for a few hours?”

Confusion furrowed his brow. “Yeah, sure, but what about Elle? She’s at your old man’s.”

“Miles will bring her home when she wakes up.”

“What are you doing, man? What are you thinking?”

With my heart feeling like it was in sharp, jagged pieces, I forced myself to say it out loud. “I can’t be with her. Not right now.”

His confusion mounted. “What are you talking about?”

“I can’t let her think she’s safe with me because the truth is . . . she’s anything but.”

The disappointed look on his face couldn’t be hidden. “So what? You’re going to walk away from her just like that?”

I nodded. Yeah, yeah I was.

For now.

DAY 10

ELLE

I was on a train.

It was moving fast.

Out the window the earth met the sky, and the two blended together in one giant blur. In the haze, the phrase Catch him if you can seemed to etch itself on the glass beside me. The words were so few that you’d think the thunderous sound of the wheels hitting the track would have drowned them out by now. But no, instead they just kept repeating themselves over and over in my mind.

A phrase I couldn’t seem to escape.

Catch him if you can.

Catch him if you can.

Catch him if you can.

No matter how hard I tried to block out the words, I couldn’t.

It sounded more like the title of a movie than a mantra that had me going on some crazy quest. I could practically visualize the theatrical release poster in my mind. It was as if I had seen it before.

A finely built man with long legs, running, wearing a suit—no, not a suit, a pair of track pants, Converse sneakers, sunglasses, and maybe a knit hat—being chased by a woman. The woman had ginger-colored hair. She was tall but not nearly as tall as him. The image was blurry. It didn’t matter, though, because I could still tell who it was—it was me, and I was running after Logan.

Except I wasn’t going to do that.

I’d vehemently told myself so.

Told myself I had to let him go.

And yet, somehow I found myself on the train headed to New York City with the events of the past two days replaying in my mind until I felt like they were actually taking place all over again.

The sun shining in his bedroom window wasn’t what had woken me. I’d been awake for hours. Waiting. Wondering. Pacing.

Worried, I stared at the faint yellow beams of light.

Where was he?

It took me a minute to gather the courage to get out of bed. It was dawn and he wasn’t back. That wasn’t a good sign.

I’d spent hours talking to his father during the night. If I thought I understood Logan before, now I understood him so much more. His father had told me a little about growing up the son of the mob boss, and how he’d tried to keep Logan away from that life. Killian had, too. Killian wanted the best for Logan and he knew the life he’d led wasn’t it. But then there had been Emily, her suicide, the aftermath, and the attack on Kayla. How Logan blamed himself. He had also told me how happy he was to see Logan with me, caring for someone, letting someone in, but he cautioned me—change didn’t happen overnight. The walls his son had built around himself would take a while to come down. And he asked me to be patient with Logan. I had agreed. Change, for either of us, wasn’t going to be easy. I’d spent the majority of my life avoiding relationships, not trusting men or my feelings. But what I felt for Logan was compelling, riveting, overwhelming. Fierce. And I didn’t want to let it go. Couldn’t.

I heard noises from downstairs and hurried to see if he was back.

But it wasn’t Logan in the kitchen closing the door. It was Miles. He’d just come inside. All night he’d rotated positions back and forth from his car parked on the street, to the family room, to the kitchen.

“Elle, sorry, did I wake you?”

I shook my head. “Have you heard anything?”

Miles looked anywhere but at me. “Declan just called me—”

“What did he say? Is Logan hurt?” The voice wasn’t mine, but it was asking the identical questions I was about to ask. It was Sean’s, and he was standing in the pantry alcove with a can of coffee in his hand.

“Mr. McPherson, sorry, I didn’t see you,” he answered. “Logan’s fine. He found Tommy, and nothing happened.”

Relief coursed through me and I could see Sean visibly sag in his own relief.

“It seems the DEA was following Logan and he didn’t catch the tail. They broke into the room when Logan was with Tommy before Logan could talk to Tommy.”

Step by step, I made my way to the table and sat down.

Sean did the very same thing.

Walking toward the sink, Miles spoke. “Whenever you’re ready to go, Elle, I’ll take you to your townhouse.”

I didn’t have to ask why. I knew what that meant. Logan hadn’t accomplished whatever it was he set out to do. And he had arranged this as his backup plan. The walls had gone up. He wasn’t coming back until I was gone.

I had no choice in the matter.

I was too raw from the night’s events to discuss anything any further. Sitting for a short while, I made myself get my things and let Miles drive me home.

Once there, I escaped to my room. Just wanting to shut everything out, I lay back on my bed. I had Michael to deal with, but it was too early to call him.

Michael O’Shea was the brother-in-law I never knew I had up until three months ago, and his daughter was the niece I fell in love with at first sight. It was because of her that I decided to leave the gypsy-like lifestyle I’d adopted and move to Boston. It was also because of her that I’d done what I’d done and Michael had done what he’d done.

The catalyst for coming to Boston was my missing sister, Lizzy, who still hadn’t returned to her husband and daughter. The last time I saw her was fifteen years ago when she walked away from me. My hope was now that the danger had passed, she’d turn up and maybe we could repair our damaged relationship.

Just as I closed my eyes, my phone started to ring. For one second, I thought maybe it was Logan, but I knew it wouldn’t be. Holding a breath, I looked at my screen. It was Michael’s name on it.

Nerves rattled me. Did he check with the delivery service and know the cocaine had actually been delivered last night? They were one of those third-party services and my hope was that the fly-by-night guys wouldn’t be able to be reached directly. Was I wrong? Did Michael know about Logan? About what he’d done?

“Hello,” I answered, trying to swallow my nervousness.

“Hi, it’s me. I just wanted to check with you and see if you’ve seen the news?”

“Yes, I have.” I kept my response short.

“I’m glad the delivery never arrived. It seems somehow the DEA got wind of it and intervened.”

Details weren’t given on where the product was found, so Michael really didn’t have a clue. “Does that mean everything will be okay and Clementine is out of danger?”

“I hope so. With the Blue Hill Gang behind bars, I think whatever Lizzy did will be the least of their concern.”

I really didn’t want to talk about this. There was so much I wanted to know, but not while lying to Michael. Changing gears, I asked, “Do you think Lizzy will come home now?”

“I don’t know, Elle. Listen, I have to run and get Clementine from my sister’s. I’ll call you later.”

“Yes, of course. Give her a kiss for me.”

He hung up. That was strange. I was worried about my lies, but he seemed so preoccupied, I didn’t have to be.

With that behind me, and while Miles worked on increasing security, I sat on my bed and pondered what I should do about Logan.

I thought long and hard, remembering my conversation with his father—“be patient with my son.” With his words fresh in my mind, I tried to call Logan.

He didn’t answer.

I didn’t leave a message because I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say.

And he didn’t call me back, either.

By ten A.M. , I knew I couldn’t sit around anymore. It was Friday, and I had to get to my newly opened boutique, The House of Sterling.

Logan must have been in touch with Miles, because he insisted on driving me to work and spending the day with me. Knowing that, I was certain Logan would call or text or something.

Nothing.

Miles drove me home, and later that evening after he finished working on my security system, he left assuring me I would be locked safely inside. I was just about to head upstairs and go to bed when there was a knock on my door. Startled, my heartbeat sped up, but then I chastised myself for thinking it would be anyone who’d come here to harm me. It was probably just Miles. Perhaps he had forgotten something. But a peek through the peephole told me it was Logan.

Right away, confusion clouded my thoughts. He hadn’t called all day. Why was he here now? My heart was already in a tangle and my mind was a web of questions. Seeing him wasn’t going to help me figure out what to do.

I should have known Miles had left for a reason.

Staring at Logan, anger threatening to erupt but need overtaking me, I debated whether or not to let him in. I hated that he’d given up on us so easily. I wanted him to fight his fear of what might happen. Don’t get me wrong, I understood I could be in danger, but I truly believed Tommy was using that fear to further ruin Logan’s life.

“Elle, it’s me,” he said, his voice low, husky.

Uncertain, I stood behind the door considering my options. I knew what would happen when I opened the door. I’d see him—his knowing eyes, his hard square jaw, his even harder body, and just like that, I’d let him off the hook for thinking I was safer without him. I’d melt like the schoolgirl I knew better than to be. It would be that simple. But our situation wasn’t that simple. It was so much more complicated. And I hated that it was.

The knocking persisted until I couldn’t stand it anymore. I longed to see him, to smell him, to touch him. I didn’t want to be apart from him.

“Elle, please.” His voice broke.

My heart stilled at the sound of his tone. He was the stronger one, my protector, and yet right now, the dauntless, fearless man needed me and I couldn’t shut him out no matter how much I knew I should. The truth was, deep in my heart, I knew there was no way this thing between us was going to end well. He just wasn’t willing to accept that he wasn’t responsible for my safety, and that fact was going to continue to eat at him and destroy us.

Still, I couldn’t turn him away.

All I could do was hope that I was strong enough to make this work for the both of us.

With a shaky hand, I opened the door and there he stood, all male, all need, all hard and yet soft. With his head down and his sorrowful, regretful hazel eyes blazing into mine, I was his. Any sense of self-preservation I had been feeling vanished.

“I’m sorry,” he said, stepping toward me and putting his hands on my hips.

Even upset with him, my body flared to life. Lust and love and something that felt a lot like my own fear swirled around me like a mini tornado. I wanted to push him. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to punch him. I wanted to fuck him. I settled for throwing my arms around him. I needed to touch him. To comfort him, as odd as that sounds. With my mouth unbearably close to his ear, I whispered, “Don’t shoulder this situation we’re in on your own.”

He buried his head in my neck. “I can’t think straight. I’m so fucking worried about you.”

Oh God, that ache in his voice killed me. My fingers threaded through his hair and as I touched him, I breathed him in. All Logan. All everything I never knew I wanted but now needed so very desperately.

Moments passed. Seconds. Maybe minutes. I knew I had to push him away. I had to talk to him with a clear head and I warred with myself until I finally did. “Logan, I’ll be all right. I can take care of myself.”

His sigh told me he didn’t believe it.

Clarity set in. “What are you doing here?”

“I was going out of my mind. I had to see for myself you were safe.”

“I’m fine, Logan. I‘11be fine,” I lied. Physically maybe, but emotionally, I didn’t think I would.

The doubt in his stare made his hazel eyes look icy.

I chose to ignore it and press on. “Why didn’t you come back to your father’s this morning?” I asked, even though I knew why. Still, it was a start to the bigger conversation.

His face was worn, his eyes tired. He rubbed his jaw. “I didn’t know what to do. I had to figure things out. And to do that I needed, I need, some time alone.”

Being alone meant not being with me, which in turn, in his mind, meant I was out of danger. I got that. I just didn’t agree with it. I didn’t want him to be alone. I didn’t want to be alone. But he was worried that if he stayed with me, something bad was going to happen. If something bad was going to happen, I believed it would happen either way. Was he here because he just couldn’t fight his need to be with me? Or had he decided we were in this together? I had to know. “And what has changed?” I asked, trying to make him think this through. Hopefully see that we were better together.

Logan stared at me with blankness in his eyes.

I knew right then nothing had changed. I should have asked him to leave—I didn’t. Instead I pressed on, hopeful. “Logan, what has changed?” I repeated, hoping for a miracle.

There was a slight shake of his head. His beautiful hair was tousled, his stubble longer than usual. Everything about him screamed that he was lost.

And even though I felt anger that he couldn’t see what I saw, that we should fight together, I couldn’t fight my longing to take the lost boy and comfort him. Maybe make him see things the way I did. That if anything was going to happen, it would happen either way.

“After everything that happened last night, I had to make certain you were okay,” he said, avoiding my question.

No matter how many times I tried to reassure him that I would be fine, that I could take care of myself, it didn’t matter. I could see the turbulence he was suffering in his eyes—that he didn’t see it the way I did.

“And we need to talk. Get our stories straight,” he further clarified.

I nodded.

He took the lead, the alpha in him back in action, as he led me to the sofa. Once we sat down, we were only inches away from each other, but it felt like miles. I watched the way his lips moved as he spoke, the way his jaw tensed when I told him about Michael’s call. I couldn’t turn my emotions off, but I tried as our conversation turned even more serious and we discussed our situation in detail—the delivery, what he’d done, his father, the DEA, Tommy, and what had happened after he left me last night.

Facts. Facts. And more facts.

Nothing that changed our tragic situation.

When the talking had ceased, the what-to-say-if-asked agreed upon, we stared at each other. I was searching for the right way to discuss his fear, but I never found the words.

I don’t know who moved first, him or me, just that his lips were on mine and they felt so good I wasn’t going to deny the moment.

I opened for him. My mouth, my arms, my legs, and of course my heart.

His hand curled against the back of my neck, possessively, drawing me nearer.

Need so big, so large it was like an ocean, a mountain, the world, consumed us.

Without words, he rose, picked me up, carried me to my bed, and set me down.

My heart was pounding.

He unbuttoned. Unzipped. I tugged my shirt off, my leggings, my panties. Eyes only on each other, both naked, our bodies found one another.

Frantic for each other, we kissed. We touched. We tangled ourselves together.

His hands roamed.

Mine did the same.

Then his lips found my skin and he kissed my mouth, my jaw, my chin, my neck.

The lights in the room were on and I could see everything. All of him. The leanness of his body. The pale, smooth skin that covered his ribs, his stomach, the jut of his hip bones, and his beautiful, long, fully erect cock. I reached for it, and the feel of him in the palm of my hand made my clit pulse with so much dizzying need that I had to close my eyes. “Fuck me.” The words slipped from my mouth.

He made a noise and for a second, I wasn’t certain he was going to, but then he rolled us over and before I knew it, I was staring down at his handsome face, straddling him.

I drew a line over the scar under his eye. The one Tommy had given him. I wanted to lick it, to kiss it, and to tell him everything was going to be okay, but I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to ruin the moment with words. So instead, I shifted a little, raised myself the smallest of amounts, and then he was inside of me. Ecstasy. With a shudder, I squeezed my knees against his sides and absorbed the pleasure.

After a few moments, he started to move. Slow. Easy. Up and down. In and out.

My hands flattened on his chest.

His body continued to lift and fall, his hands now possessively gripping my hips.

My mouth lowered to his, and gasps of pleasure escaping through open-mouthed kisses filled the room. It was hard to concentrate on kissing him when with every slide of his cock there was a glorious press against my clit.

The pleasure kept building.

Higher and higher.

On the edge, I needed more. I pushed upright and rode him. Faster. Harder.

Eyes locked, he fucked upward and I rolled my hips.

Over and over.

In rhythm.

I arched my back.

My heart beat faster.

My breath rushed out.

And then I was coming.

He was coming.

It was fast.

Intense.

My body quaking in perfect spasms of ecstasy, I looked down at him. He stilled, groaned, and I could feel his cock pulse inside me as he rode out his own release. Once our breathing slowed, he pulled me to his chest and held me tightly. Kissed my head. I didn’t ever want this to end but soon, sleep pulled me under.

Early in the morning, too early, I awoke in my bed—alone.

On the pillow beside me was a note:

I had to go to New York City. Not sure when I’ll be back. I’ll be in touch.

The blood in my veins felt like ice water.

He wasn’t going to be in touch. I knew this. I felt it. Hell, I knew it from the moment he set foot inside and told me he needed time.

Still, I couldn’t stop the flood of emotions. Anger surged through me. He’d left me—again. He didn’t even wake me to discuss things. He made the decision for us to face what might never come—separately.

Suppressing any tears that threatened to spill, I pressed my fingertips to the place where his head had lain last night and said out loud, “Screw you.”

Screw you. Right, I thought with a small huff of laughter, as I was on my way to New York to bring him home.

To be fair, I’d held onto my anger for a good solid six hours after I’d read the note. I’d gone to work, tried to make it through the day without thinking about it. But then the anger began to subside and the tears fell. Somewhere around noon, I rationalized that he was scared, and the only way he knew how to deal with fear was to run. After all, he’d done it his whole life. And so had I. Moving from job to job, from country to country, trying to escape my childhood. But no more. If I wanted him in my life, I had to go get him and make him see it was time for that cycle to end. For him. And for me.

I’d enlisted the help of his father. Sean thought Tommy could be making empty threats, but wanted me to be cautious and reluctantly agreed to give me Logan’s address in New York City. He also called the doorman and told him to let me up when I arrived. Miles was much more hesitant about my impromptu trip. Still, he brought me to the station and promised not to tell Logan. In exchange, I promised to call him on my way back so he could pick me up, in case I came back on the train—alone.

That was how I’d come to board the train exactly 215 minutes ago on this Sunday afternoon. The Amtrak Acela Express came to a screeching halt at Penn Station and my heart started to pound. Logan was everything I needed in my life and nothing I’d known I was looking for. Not a white knight or a prince charming but a man I loved fiercely, and who loved me with equal fierceness. He didn’t have to say the words I love you for me to know that he did—it was in his voice when he said my name, in his eyes when he looked at me, and in the way he touched me with a protectiveness that somehow I’d grown to need.

I exited the train with no luggage in hand but a mission in mind. When Logan and I were together, everything in the world was right no matter how wrong things were. And that was why I was here—to remind him of that.