Logan

by Melissa Foster

  “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.”<
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  “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.

  Chapter Nineteen

  LOGAN HELPED STELLA from the car. She’d hardly said two words on the drive from the hotel to her mother’s house. A deep vee had formed between her brows when they left the hotel, and it had been there ever since. She had a death grip on his hand.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I…” She turned worried eyes up to him. “Are you sure Kutcher isn’t going to get out?”

  Logan knew this fear would be with her for a very long time. “Yes. He’ll have to go through the legal process to get a conviction, but this is a sealed deal. He’s going to be behind bars for a long time. You’ve given them a positive identification on Kutcher. They’re talking to the neighbor who interrupted the attack to get an ID from him, too. They have the physical evidence they need to convict him. They had the DNA samples from the hospital visit after he stabbed you. He’s done, darlin’, and I’ll be with you every step of the way.” They’d been over this a dozen times that morning, and Logan was ready to reassure her a dozen more. Whatever it took, he was in, one hundred percent.

  Stella breathed deeply as they waited for her mother to answer the door. They heard shuffling, and a voice similar to Stella’s called through the closed door, “Who is it?”

  Tears sprang from Stella’s eyes. “It’s me, Mom. It’s Stella.”

  They listened to two bolts sliding free, and the door opened as far as the chain lock would allow. A set of tired green eyes peered out at them, instantly filling with tears as they darted between Stella and Logan.

  “It’s really me, Mom. It’s okay. It’s safe.”

  A moment later Stella was wrapped in her mother’s arms, both of them crying, and Logan’s heart felt as if it had doubled in size. He turned away to give them privacy. Still within her mother’s embrace, Stella snagged his shirt.

  “Stay.”

  He did.

  He always would.

  Her mother’s cancer was in remission. Her hair had begun growing back, and although she appeared thin and tired, by the time they left several hours later, both Stella and her mother looked as if new life had been breathed into them. Stella had a bounce to her step, and Logan swore her eyes looked brighter than ever.

  Stella stood beside the car, looking at her mother’s house for a long while. When she was ready, Logan opened the car door so they could leave.

  She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his chest.

  “Thank you for everything, Logan. You’ve done too much for me already, but there’s something else I’d like you to do.”

  “Anything, darlin’. You know that.”

  “We can’t escape our pasts, but we can be free from them and put them behind us.”

  “That’s what we’re doing.”

  “No,” she said. “That’s what I’m doing. Now it’s your turn. I wish you would come clean to your mother, let her know what happened so that you can put that burden behind you.”

  A chill ran through him at the prospect. Logan shook his head. “I don’t want my mother thinking of me as a cold-blooded killer. This is different.”

  “What you did wasn’t cold-blooded, Logan. You saved that woman and her son. You probably saved many women that night. Your mother will be proud of you. She deserves to know as much as you deserve to be relieved of the guilt that you’ve been carrying around for so long. I love you, but I can’t see how we can move forward with that noose hanging around your neck.”

  Logan had thought about telling his mother a million times, and the thought had nearly suf
focated him. It was one thing to handle a mission for his country. He could disconnect from the emotions when he was carrying out a duty to protect his country, but this…This was his personal mission. No one hired him to do it. All he could imagine was his mother thinking about him killing that man with his bare hands.

  “Please?” Stella stepped in closer. “For us? At least think about it?”

  One look at her penetrating, love-filled gaze, and he fell under her spell, just as he’d been since the day he’d met her. He’d give his life for Stella if he had to. But this...This was the toughest thing he’d ever been asked to do.

  Earning Stella’s trust and love had changed him. She’d become his last night, and he’d been hers since the moment he’d followed her into that alley and rescued her.

  He just hadn’t known that he’d needed rescuing, too.

  “I used to think that the last thing I would ever willingly do is risk hurting my mother by telling her what I’ve done, or take the chance that she might see me differently. I was wrong. The last thing I’d ever want to do is let you down. You’re right, Stella. You faced your past. Now it’s my turn.”

  “Logan.” Stella laced her fingers with his. “You could never let me down. This isn’t about hurting your mother. This is about setting you both free.”

  Epilogue

  STELLA WAITED ANXIOUSLY on the back steps of Logan’s mother’s house. He’d insisted on coming straight over after he’d agreed to come clean and tell his mother what he’d done. Stella had offered to be there when he told her, but he said he needed to do it on his own. He’d been in there for almost an hour already, and Stella prayed she hadn’t pushed him in the wrong direction.

  The kitchen door opened. Logan walked silently onto the porch and sat beside her. His damp eyes sent a spear through her heart.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.