by Cari Quinn
“I changed my mind. Let’s just get in the truck and keep driving. We have passports. We’ll go into Canada.”
“No.” She covered Logan’s hands. “No more hiding. You were right. In fact I want you to contact the press—pull out the big guns. Bring in that reporter that interviewed you from Music Life.”
“I’m not sure what kind of pull you think I have.”
“Babe, I know you have the star power. It’s time to utilize it. We’re going to create such a buzz that there’s no way she won’t be able to show her face.” She wasn’t hiding in the shadows any longer. And she wasn’t going to let Logan hide either.
“Why do you want to bring her here?”
She pulled out her weekender and slung it over her shoulder. “Because she killed my best friend and she tried to kill me. Whether she intended to hurt us with the explosion is a moot point now. Not after those pictures.”
Her gut was a mess, but she was clear-headed for the first time in months. Aimee had way too much power over them. It was time they did something about it.
Logan stood in front of her and cupped her face in his large hands. “I can’t lose you.”
“We can’t live like this. Not and have any sort of life. I want to marry you. I want to have children and do stupid vacations at Disneyland with our kids.”
His green eyes went wide.
“Scary, huh?”
“Kids?”
“I know we really haven’t talked about them.” She pulled at the plaid shirt he wore. “But we’ve been waiting—always waiting. Waiting to see what she was going to do, waiting to make our announcements, waiting to build a life. I’m tired of waiting. You knew when you kissed me that first time that I wanted all of this. Aimee Collen doesn’t change any of that. She just made me forget about it for a while.”
“Are you going to give me a dark-haired little girl with those topaz eyes of yours?”
“Maybe a little girl with your green eyes and my dark hair.”
“Your eyes are prettier.”
“So you say. I’ve got about fifteen bookmarked links on my computer about how people wax poetic about your bottle green eyes, buddy.”
He rolled his eyes. Just like he always did when she teased him about his sex appeal. It was refreshing to know that humor still lived inside her. “Shut up.”
She smiled up at him. “I’m tired of being afraid, Logan. I stayed up in the cabin with you wondering every day if she was going to take you away from me. How am I supposed to not lose my mind? When I wake up I have to know where you are every part of the day. How are you supposed to go back on the road if I’m like that?”
He pressed his forehead against hers. “And you honestly think that a concert will make her come after us?”
“Not just a concert. A special town concert to honor Nichole and Adam’s name.”
“Well, I’m all for celebrating their life, but why would that bring Aimee out?”
“Because we’re going to tell the interviewer we’re getting married. Right after the concert.”
He straightened, his fingers tightening in her hair. “Excuse me?”
She had to admit, surprising Logan felt good. “Hey, you asked. Now you gotta put up or shut up.”
“Of course I want to marry you. I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.”
“Good answer, King.”
“This isn’t exactly the way I thought our wedding day would go.”
“We don’t do anything half measure. Why should this be any different, right?” She wrapped her fingers around his wrists. “You’re my family, Logan. Nic and Adam were the only people I cared about in this whole world.” She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “I’m not letting that woman take anything else from us.”
He shook her a little. His eyes so fierce and sad. “That’s going to drive her insane.”
“No, she’s already insane. This is just going to show the world that she is.”
“You do realize Marcus is going to kill us for pulling this kind of stunt. He’s going to hate it. I hate it.”
She jerked back, but he held onto her. He had to know that this was the only way. They couldn’t live their lives with her in the shadows constantly trying to hurt them or people around them.
“I don’t hate the idea of marrying you in front of the whole damn town. I’ll stand at the top of the falls and scream my vows out to the entire town. But I couldn’t live if something happened to you.”
“And that’s why Marcus is going to be our event planner. Along with Sarah.”
“Oh, yeah. She’s going to love that.”
Bella grinned up at him. “Wait until she finds out she has to wear a dress.”
Thirty-Four
Logan escaped down to the studio. Upstairs was Grand Central Station with fifteen of Marcus’s operatives filling his kitchen. They were revamping his security, at The Barn, and in town. Not to mention the additional ten people coming in for added security at the show.
Skye and some woman named Ember had taken over his bedroom. They were teaming up on Izzy to alter a dress from The Closet, an antique and consignment dress shop in town.
With Izzy’s schedule there wasn’t time to go shopping for a dress so Ember was going to make her one.
Cole and the guys from his band were due to arrive after their show in Connecticut. Lindsey’s band, Brooklyn Dawn, and Alex Nash had agreed to come out to add some weight to the concert.
He’d even managed to get his manager to set up a live showing of the concert for more fundraising. Charlie was so happy he was back to work that he’d even donated his fees to the fundraiser. And tomorrow at five in the damn morning he had a reporter coming to interview him and Isabella about the concert and her recovery.
The town was excited about their upcoming show and once a fellow customer at The Closet had seen Izzy buying the white dress, speculation had been buzzing.
Everything was going according to plan.
And that was making him more nervous than anything. If there were complications and hurdles to get through, he would have felt better. Hell, Charlie donating any money just put his back up. His manager was a shark. That’s why he kept him around. He was the ruthless bastard when Logan couldn’t be.
No problems just left him with a twitch behind his right eye.
Nothing went according to plan.
Not when it came to their world.
Least of all a fake wedding to the woman of his dreams.
The moment he’d asked Izzy to marry him at the falls he’d known his life was going to change. He’d welcomed it. He was tired of being alone, tired of imagining his life would consist of one show after the other in a succession until he was too old, or worse, too irrelevant in the music world.
For the first time he had a chance to have a future that included someone he trusted and loved. And instead of getting annoyed with color choices, or guest lists, or centerpieces, he was planning to trap a psycho ex-girlfriend and hope to God she didn’t try to kill Izzy again.
And his fiancée was the one that had come up with the plan.
When had he lost complete control of his life?
He was officially going to lose his shit.
The studio was the only place he was even able to breathe around the pressure in his chest. He sat down at his piano. Even here, his fingers felt clumsy and stiff on the keys. The only time his hands had been on the keys since Izzy had been hurt had been the broken piano at the lodge.
The clear tones from the old upright that he’d refinished felt too loud and too perfect. He moved up to the minor keys and slowly picked out notes. With barely there strokes, he wound his way through a tune that had been busting around his ribs since the moment she’d told him they were getting married.
I poured my heart out into the shadows
Picking around the torn out keys of a shattered piano
Discordant notes lost to the dust motes and sunlight
Shadows called to her, o
n a minor melody
The door to the studio opened and he turned. Zeke and his wild hair and ever ready smile peeked around the corner. “You playing sad songs down here, pal? It’s not your real wedding yet.”
Logan laughed. “Just a memory.”
“We’re ready to party, man. We have to give you some semblance of a bachelor party.”
“Oh God, no.”
“C’mon. At least let’s get stupid drunk. Tomorrow is going to be madness.”
“You’re goddamn right about that.”
“Then what do you say?”
“Logan? Can you come up here, please?” Marcus asked.
Zeke winced. “Why do I have this feeling that all our fun just went out the window.”
“Because you’re standing in the warpath that is my life, man.”
“Ouch.”
Logan sighed. “Better go see what chaos has been brewing.” He took the stairs two at a time and found only Marcus and Sarah in the kitchen.
Mugs littered the counter and another pot of coffee was brewing, but his house was blissfully empty. Well, almost. Logan stopped at the wine cabinet and pulled out a bottle of red, opened it and brought both bottle and glass with him to the kitchen table.
He was damn well having a glass of wine.
Zeke followed him into the room and grabbed a glass. “Mind if I join the party?”
Marcus looked up from the array of pictures covering the table. “More the merrier.”
Sarah sipped from her ever present blue travel mug as she put the pictures in piles. “I know these might be hard to look at—and we took out the more intimate shots—but we’d like to figure out a timeline if that’s possible.”
Logan poured half a glass for himself and set the bottle down. He took a fortifying sip before sitting down at the foot of the table. “We looked at them briefly, but we were more interested in getting out of the cabin.”
“With good reason,” Marcus said.
Logan pulled a pile toward him. They were all of him. “Well, we did get up there before the first full change of leaves, so that will help any of the outside shots.”
Sarah nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I’ve been using. From what I can gather, the photographs started almost immediately.”
His gut churned.
Sarah pushed two pictures of Izzy forward. “She’s still wearing her bandages here and markedly thinner.”
Logan swallowed. “Yeah. She took daily walks to the dock until she got stronger.” He placed the pictures of her in the Adirondack chair into order. In the photos he could see her posture improve with each week.
He frowned. “Actually, this seems to be almost a weekly record.” He pushed through the matte photos until he found the pictures of him cutting wood and put those in the center. Then found others that showed the snowfall.
He pushed a final pile in front of Sarah. “Those are the latest pictures.” They included Isabella with a smile. Fiona playing in the snow, leaping for snowballs. They would have been amazing shots if not for the fact that it was a complete invasion of privacy.
“The only good thing is that they look like they were taken from a distance.” Marcus pulled over the one of them playing in the snow. “We’ll check into the other cabins and see if anyone rented one long-term.”
“Richard didn’t mention any other people that had stayed as long as we had.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if whoever had taken these pictures had broken into one of the out of the way cabins. They all boast a river view, so they are relatively close together.”
“So she watched us? The whole time?”
Logan turned at Izzy’s voice. “Hey.” He stood and crossed to the kitchen entryway. Skye hovered next to Izzy and Ember was shuffling toward the door.
“Do you need me to stay?”
Izzy patted Skye’s arm. “No. I’m okay.”
Skye aimed her gaze on him. Her almond shaped dark eyes were sharp and assessing. “She’s had a long day.”
Logan curled his arm around her hip and gathered her in. “We all have.”
“C’mon, Skye. Let them be. We have a lot of work to do tonight.” Ember’s voice was husky and authoritative.
Skye twisted their fingers together. “I’ll be here around three to get you ready.”
Izzy nodded. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. Ember and I have many hours to go tonight.”
Ember made a gesture that was very reminiscent of Hulk Hogan flexing and opened the door to leave, a dress over her arm.
Skye reached up and patted his cheek none-too-gently. “Take care of her.”
“Always.”
She glided to the door on a pair of stilettos that made him appreciate her balance and cringe at the same time. Skye waved and closed the door behind them. Why did women do that to themselves? He caught Zeke from the corner of his eye and his shell-shocked face and snorted. That was why.
Izzy followed his gaze and pressed her nose into his chest to hide a smile. He curled his other arm around her shoulders until he surrounded her.
“We’re looking at the pictures. Think you’re up to it?”
She nodded against his chest. “I hate that she’s been playing with us this whole time. She was jetting around the world with her hockey player boy-toy and still somehow managed to keep track of us.” She hooked her arms through his, her hands gripping his shoulders as she pressed her face into his neck. “What if we never get rid of her?”
He didn’t understand the pictures either. Aimee was out of the country far too much to have taken them herself. And it wasn’t her style either.
But they just seemed way too personal. He led her over to the table and stood behind her as she shuffled through the piles they’d made.
She rearranged a few of them and pointed to the snowy one. “That seems to be the latest picture. The rest don’t have enough snow around.”
“So, what? No pictures in the last two weeks?”
Izzy nodded. “What made them stop?”
Logan swiped his palm down his neck. “I don’t know. Why did she pick now to show her hand?”
“Because you were happy,” Sarah said quietly. She lined up four pictures. All of them of him smiling at Izzy.
“See these?” She pushed three others above. “Tension is coming off each of you. If I was a betting woman, and I am.” She tapped the picture of Izzy kissing him on the deck. “The thought of you two happy is what really turns her crank.”
Izzy swiped up all the pictures in front of them, leaving their happiest one on top. “Then tomorrow will definitely work. We’ll play it up for the interview.”
Marcus folded his arms across his chest. “I’d have to agree. My only question is what is your endgame? We might draw her out, but we still have no proof that she has done anything.”
“Bishop hasn’t pulled anything out of DeSalvo?”
“Still working on him. He’s cagey.”
Izzy rubbed her arms. “Can’t blame him. She scares the crap out of me.”
“We can call this off,” Logan said.
“No.” She turned in his arms, cupped his jaw. “No. We need to prove to her that we’re not afraid of her at the very least. That we are getting married. That nothing she does is going to split us up.”
Except kill Izzy.
He’d honestly go out of his mind if that happened. And before it could, he would kill her. There was no doubt in his mind—nor any guilt in the thought.
“No. It’s not. She’s not.” He pulled her in tight and rested his chin on top of her head and met Marcus’s gaze.
Marcus’s face went blank. Logan wasn’t sure what Marcus read on his face, but he was pretty sure murder was in his eyes. Everyone was in fifth gear and ripping down the highway to get everything done for the concert. He’d stalled out at baiting Aimee.
Now he wasn’t afraid of freezing up on stage. He was afraid he was going to jump in the crowd and kill her with his bare hands in front of
God, fans, even Izzy—and not give two flying fucks.
Aimee Collen would be done threatening them after tomorrow.
Thirty-Five
Bella rolled over, her eyes drawn to the skylight. The moon seemed brighter than usual that night. The room full of the silvery tinge on every surface. Even the dark sheets on the bed seemed lit up.
She ran her nails lightly over Logan’s forearm that pinned her to the mattress. Achingly familiar and comforting, the weight should have put her to sleep like it always did. Maybe it was because she was so amped up still. They’d discussed all the details of the show, the security that would be there to protect Logan—protect her. Sarah was going to be a barnacle on her ass. A pretty in pink barnacle, but a barnacle nonetheless.
And she was all right with that.
No chances tomorrow.
She’d had a few moments through the course of the day. Memories triggered by places like Valentine’s and the storefront had thrown her off balance. Even sitting at the kitchen table had been a lesson in patience. All of it seemed like another part of her life now. Like everything before had been sparkly and perfect and the now was full of shadows and shades of gray.
Maine had been a different world.
Thick with grief and guilt, followed by a few weeks of normalcy. Or at least what passed for normal in their crazy world.
And she’d fallen in love with Logan again. Not that she’d ever really fallen out of it, but it had been scary how high and how fast her walls had been built. That she’d been able to set herself apart from him. Intellectually she knew it was grief, but if he hadn’t been the stubborn man he was, she would have lost him too.
Now they were back in the only place she’d ever been able to call home and she wasn’t going to lose that for anything. Haunting memories would fade and they’d make new ones to ease the old.
The position of the moonlight told her it was well past midnight. They would need to get up in a few hours to deal with the camera crews and interviews. She turned into Logan. His arm automatically curled her in close. He liked her close when they slept, especially since the accident.