Crush (Tainted Love Duet #2)

by Kim Karr

  “Best news I’ve heard in a while.”

  The Racketeering Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act allowed the DEA to gather enough circumstantial information on someone for him to be formally charged for crimes not directly committed by him but linked through his assistance. If a gang member spilled Tommy and Patrick’s outlaw behavior, it would be a huge win for the DEA.

  “I thought you’d think so.”

  “Yeah, thanks again for the heads-up. At least I know for certain they won’t be getting out anytime soon.”

  “Right. I think they’ll be locked away for a good, long time. I’ll talk to you later if I hear anything else.”

  “Thanks again,” I said. “Miles, wait, what about—” I called, but he had already disconnected. I tried him back and got voicemail. Hopefully Declan had taken care of the Tommy visit arrangements with Miles.

  I downshifted the Rover to take a turn. God, I loved this vehicle. Loved to drive it when I had steam to burn. As long as I was moving fast, I wasn’t overthinking everything or doing anything stupid.

  Right now, my life felt like it was spinning out of control, and it scared me. Not because I needed to be in control of those around me, but because I wanted to be in charge of my own destiny for once in my life. And that call might have put me one step closer.

  Slamming down on the accelerator, I hit the turnpike at high speed. I weaved in and out of the traffic. Faster and faster I took my speed until I was forced to slow down. The exit ramp had a sharp turn and I needed to get to my destination in one piece.

  I pulled into the parking lot of the boxing gym around the corner from Declan’s coffee shop, Mulligan’s Cup, and not much farther from Elle’s boutique, The House of Sterling. As I eased my Rover into a spot, I couldn’t believe how helpful Declan Mulligan had been. When we were kids he’d hung with Tommy’s crowd. He was even the driver the night Tommy attacked me. Somehow he managed to turn his life from shit to something decent, and I think helping me was his way to atone for his sins. And that was something I not only got but also respected.

  He’d started seeing Peyton, Elle’s employee, and they seemed happy together. Both were artsy and seemed like a good match.

  Were Elle and I good match?

  For a moment, I just sat there, listening to the engine hum as I tried to pull my thoughts together. I wanted to talk to her. Tell her the news. To atone for my own sins, I guess. But I knew she wouldn’t be able to talk and calling her would only piss me off. It had been a long fucking day, though, between the argument I had with Elle this morning, seeing my grandfather and our more than weird conversation, and then watching Elle with O’Shea. Seeing him take her hand to comfort her. That should have been me.

  With a shiver, I gazed out at the brick buildings that surrounded me and took more than one calming breath. When the ill feeling passed, I rolled down the window to let the fresh air whisk away the jealousy I couldn’t shake.

  I was in bad shape.

  I just wanted this fucking day to be over. Saturday. All day. Who the hell held a funeral from practically dawn to dusk? I knew I sounded like I was whining because I couldn’t be with my girl, but I couldn’t help it.

  Right then I told myself to stop being a pussy.

  Manning up, I grabbed my duffle and moved like lightning out of my vehicle and into the gym. Declan was already at it, punching the bag with a force that told me his mood wasn’t much better than mine. I stopped for a moment. Watching him in action made me grin.

  Feeling like a caged tiger, I approached him. “Hey, man.”

  He jerked his chin in response and threw one last punch before tossing me his gloves. He’d called me right after I left my grandfather and told me to meet him here. I didn’t have my gear, but I didn’t really need it.

  Arteries pumping with adrenaline, muscles bunched, ready to punch anything that got in my way, I got to it.

  I would have thought all the sex I was having would wear me out. But instead it was having the opposite effect on me. I had more energy and drive than ever. Or maybe it was pent-up frustration I was feeling. Whatever it was, I was going to take it out on the bag.

  I let loose a thundering punch.

  Declan whistled. “That bad of a day, huh?”

  I nodded. “Did you talk to Miles?” I asked.

  “Just got off the phone. He said he had just hung up with you when he got word.”

  “What is it?”

  “He can get you in early in the morning, but that’s all he can guarantee. Tommy might be moved by afternoon.”

  I pounded into the bag. “How long will I have?”

  “He said fifteen minutes at the most. Go in and tell the guy behind the desk you’re Flannigan’s new attorney. He’ll bring Tommy up and let you in.”

  My teeth were grinding together, the sweat pouring down my back. I knew gaining visitation wasn’t going to be easy. Even as an attorney I hadn’t been able to arrange it myself. Luckily, it turned out Miles still had deep connections, and my little upcoming “sit-down” had been arranged courtesy of him.

  “Yeah, okay. No one will block me once I pass the desk?” I asked, pulling off my gloves.

  “Miles assured me that not a single sheriff in lockup is on the Flannigan family’s payroll. He also told me to tell you there’s a dark corner in the basement with no security cameras, and for the right price, Tommy could easily be dealt with down there.”

  Raw punches to the bag were going to leave my knuckles bruised. “If only it were that fucking easy,” I muttered. I wasn’t a killer, though. I may have crossed the legal line when it came to the drugs, but I wasn’t going to cross that line.

  “Miles also got one of the cokeheads to talk, but he didn’t know much.”

  I turned for a moment to catch my breath. “What did he say?”

  “He doesn’t remember exactly where he was buying his product. Just that it was a tall skyscraper down on the waterfront.”

  The bag once again became my outlet for my anger. “How the fuck doesn’t he remember the address?”

  Loosening up, Declan reached for the gloves I had tossed and put them back on. “He’d moved on. That was two dealers ago. Miles is going to walk him down there tomorrow night and get him to point the building out. He needs five hundred, though.”

  I slammed the bag over and over. “Yeah, okay, I’ll drop it off when I leave here.”

  Declan started punching again and we each took our pent-up frustration out on the bag.

  I wasn’t sure how much time passed, but I was drenched in sweat before my hands began to ache and my muscles burned—this was what I needed.

  Declan pointed under the bag. “Hey, man, I think that’s enough.”

  I looked down and sure enough, blood was dripping on the floor. “Probably time to hit the shower.”

  In the locker room, I let the water sluice down my body. I had to get my shit together. This anger, rage, frustration, or fear, whatever it was, wasn’t healthy. I couldn’t change the situation Elle and I were in, but if I kept up the way I was, I might just drive her away.

  Having realized this, I emerged, feeling like I could handle things better. My goal was right in front of me—bring them all down and close the door behind me.

  “Want to talk about it?” Declan asked as he tied his boots.

  I slipped a T-shirt over my head. “I was a dick to Elle this morning.”

  He stood straight. “That’s what’s bothering you?”

  I shook my head. “Yeah.”

  “Look, man, that’s the one thing that has an easy solution.”

  I furrowed my brows.

  “You do what all groveling men do when they fuck up.”

  Shoving my feet in my sneakers, I glanced over at him, “And what would that be?”

  He crossed his arms over his chest and laughed. “Come on, man. Don’t you watch the movies?”

  My look was one of question.

  Declan shook his head. “Buy her candy and flowers.”


  This time I raised a brow. “That’s a little cliché.”

  “Then do something sweet and romantic. Women can’t stay mad at a man for long when he gets all romantic on her.”

  I shrugged. “Not really my thing.”

  His quirked smile wasn’t making me feel any better. “Well, if you fucked up, you better learn how to make it your thing or get used to sleeping on the couch.”

  I winced at the thought.

  “Trust me, man, and do it. Take it from someone who has way too many ex-girlfriends, if you don’t, she won’t be your girl for long.”

  With a sideways glance, I considered what he said.

  ELLE

  I was ready to scream.

  The day had been an endless parade of casseroles, neighbors, Michael’s colleagues, and I didn’t know who else.

  It just all seemed so fake.

  None of those people knew my sister.

  Erin seemed to be doing a good job as hostess and was talking to just about everyone.

  At seven thirty, I read Clementine a story and put her to bed. And then when I felt like I couldn’t take another moment of “I’m sorry for your loss” from another person who didn’t know my sister, I excused myself.

  My fingers were just reaching for the handle of the door in the kitchen that led outside when a hand grasped them. “You’re Michael’s sister-in-law?” a man asked. It was the same man I’d seen with all the flowers in the driveway earlier.

  Something about him seemed off and I didn’t look up. “Yes,” I answered.

  “He is very fond of you.”

  My eyes stayed trained to the floor. “We have a common goal of making sure Clementine is happy despite the sadness surrounding the death of my sister.”

  “Hmmm . . . yes, the child.”

  I didn’t like the way he’d said that. “Clementine,” I reaffirmed.

  “Yes, Clementine.”

  Chills ran down my spine. I didn’t like the way he’d said her name.

  “Are you going outside?” he asked.

  “No, I was just making sure the door was locked,” I lied and then stepped back, not sure why but knowing I didn’t want to be alone with him.

  “Seamus.” Michael’s voice sounded like a warning.

  The man turned and walked toward Michael. “There you are, we need to talk.”

  With a deep breath, I tuned them out and went back into the living room, where I sat on the sofa and watched Michael and this man discuss something heated. When they went out the back door, I took advantage of the coast being clear.

  Frazzled and done, I slipped out the front door without saying goodbye to anyone. Peyton was waiting for me outside and I didn’t want to chance another uncomfortable conversation with anyone today. I’d call Michael tomorrow and explain. Mental exhaustion had long since set in and I just wanted to go home. I needed to see Logan.

  Peyton drove a silver Prius, and she had parked as close to the house as the trail of cars would allow. I walked down the sidewalk in my black pumps that were demanding to be taken off, and when I saw her flash her lights, I was thankful I didn’t have much farther to go.

  Bracing myself for an onslaught of questions I didn’t want to have to answer, I swung open the passenger door and collapsed into the seat.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  The concern in her voice was hard to deny and it eased my agitation. “I will be. I just want to get home and out of these clothes.”

  She pressed the gas and started driving. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  I looked down at the new black trench I had bought—guaranteed to repel the rain—and surprisingly found myself wanting to tell her everything. “I do, Peyton, just not today.”

  “Okay. No pressure from me,” she said.

  Mascara came away on my fingertips when I rubbed my eyes, suddenly more tired than I’d felt in a very long time. To avoid the awkward silence, I simply said, “Like I said in my text, the new nanny’s car broke down and Michael needed his back.”

  She nodded. “Yeah, I get it. He’s still an asshole.”

  “Peyton, he’s not. He wants the nanny to be able to take Clementine where she needs to go. I get it. And besides, it feels wrong driving my dead sister’s car.”

  The traffic was light but still she eased up on the gas, perhaps to give us more time. “As opposed to driving your drug addict sister’s car?”

  I hated that I couldn’t tell her the truth. Tell her that Michael had told everyone my sister was in rehab when in reality, he had no idea where she had been. But that information was linked to the missing drugs, and the fewer people who knew about that situation, the better.

  Michael and I had gone to the police station separately this morning. We were both told trace amount of drugs were found in Lizzy’s system but there was evidence of long-term addiction. This only reaffirmed the preliminary police report that she was, more than likely, a victim of a drug deal gone bad.

  During his visit, Michael had to fess up to not knowing her whereabouts for the past three and a half months, and that didn’t sit well with him. It was on record that Lizzy wasn’t in drug rehab, and now he would have to watch what he said during his campaign so as not to contradict what he had already told others. Of course, he wasn’t talking about it to me.

  That was all I knew.

  However, I was certain he had to be a suspect.

  He hadn’t told me that, though.

  He hadn’t told me much.

  Peyton’s eyes were on me. “Elle, did you hear me?”

  When I turned to look at her, out of nowhere, I found myself laughing so hard I couldn’t even get my words out in one cohesive sentence. “When you . . . put it . . . that way . . . I guess it shouldn’t really matter.”

  Peyton reached her hand over and took mine. It wasn’t until then that I realized I was crying. It was the laughter that prevented me from speaking; it was the sobs that had gotten stuck in my throat. “It’s okay, Elle, let it out.”

  If only she could really understand, but then again, I wasn’t even certain I did.

  My life had changed so much in the past three months. Before coming to Boston, my biggest worry was what take-out restaurant to eat from and what television show I wanted to accompany the meal. With everything that was happening around me, my life should have felt tilted, off balance, but instead it felt more right than it ever had. And I knew why. I also knew I had to tell Logan everything. I’d intended to tell him about how broken I was the night he came back to me, but then he told me about Lizzy and I just couldn’t.

  Sitting here, thinking through everything, I realized Logan was the only real thing in my life. Maybe the only real thing I’d ever had in my life, and I couldn’t lose him. I had to have faith in him. I couldn’t continue to keep secrets from him—not about Michael and not about me.

  Tomorrow would be the day of reckoning.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to come in?” Peyton asked when she pulled up to my place.

  “No, I’m fine. It’s been a long day. I’m exhausted and just want to go to bed.”

  “Okay, call me tomorrow if you need anything. I’ll be at the boutique for a few hours in the morning doing inventory.”

  “Peyton, I don’t want you going there alone. I finished everything yesterday. There’s nothing left for you to do.”

  “There’s always something to do and you know it. Besides, I refuse to let some asshole scare me. But if it makes you feel better, Declan doesn’t have to work until the afternoon and he’s coming with me.”

  I put my arms out and hugged her fiercely. “I’m so sorry.”

  She returned my hug. “Stop saying that. It wasn’t your fault and I’m fine.”

  I drew in a breath and tried to give her a smile. “Thank you, for everything.”

  As I got out, she yelled, “Don’t forget, call me if you need anything.”

  My eyes landed on Logan’s vehicle and my heart started to thump wil
dly. “I will.”

  The Range Rover was parked under the trees across the street, but I still saw it. He was here. Waiting for me.

  The squeak of my front door made me jump. When I turned around, it was open and Logan was standing there watching me, one shoulder pressed against the doorframe. His beautiful hair was slicked back and I knew he must have recently showered. Wearing a pair of black track pants, a white T-shirt, no shoes or socks, and with his hands in his pockets, he couldn’t have looked sexier. My pulse started to race with each step I took closer to him. I had really missed him today despite our earlier argument.

  All I could do was hope he wasn’t still upset. As I got closer, I just wasn’t certain. There was a blank look on his face, but that was all I saw. The brooding side I’d seen this morning was definitely gone.

  “You’re home,” I said with a smile.

  A slight nod acknowledged what was obvious and a hand on the small of my back guided me inside.

  As soon as my feet hit the wooden floor of the front entrance, I reached back and took one, then the other, shoe off.

  I could feel his eyes on me and once my shoes were off, his hands were on the front of my coat and unbuttoning my trench with an energy that electrified the air. “I’m sorry about the way I left things this morning,” he whispered in my ear.

  A thrill of excitement ran through me as his warm breath swooshed down my neck.

  Like a whirlwind, I turned and flung my arms around his neck, all but collapsing against his strong body. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I should have listened to your concerns.”

  In that way he knows how to make me feel like I’m the only thing that matters, he took my face between his strong, powerful hands. “Hey, talk to me. What’s going on? Why did Peyton drive you home? Did the Mercedes break down? Why wouldn’t you have called me?”

  My tears were like a waterfall and although I tried to speak, my words were utterly incomprehensible. It had been such a long day, and I thought I would be much stronger about today’s events than I actually had been.

  Logan clutched me to his chest and gently stroked my hair. “Shhh . . . don’t cry. I know how hard today must have been for you. That’s why I wanted to be there for you. That’s why I was there at a distance. It wasn’t because I thought you weren’t safe, but because I wanted to be able to comfort you if you needed it.”