“Any luck?” he asked.
“No,” Vin said quietly, dejectedly. “But we’ve still got some leads to work on…some villagers recognized his picture. Said he helped them out before the ambush.”
“I’ve been trying to call you for weeks,” Dom muttered.
“I know, sorry. Reception’s shitty and the sat phone we had got fucked up.” Dom understood. It wasn’t the first time Vin had scared the shit out of him by staying out of contact for so long, but with his emotions already so raw it was hard to keep from rebuking his brother’s oversight.
“She’s gone Vinny,” Dom whispered finally.
Silence, then, “I’m coming home.” It sounded like Vin was moving and Dom missed him more than ever in that moment.
“No,” Dom forced out.
“I’m coming!” Vin said again and Dom heard shuffling.
“I’m okay,” Dom said. “Vin-”
Nothing from the other end, just more shuffling. “Vin!” Dom nearly shouted. The shuffling stopped.
“What?” his brother asked, his voice pained.
“Find him, Vin. Stay there and find him. Bring him home.”
“Dom…”
“I have people Vinny,” he said as he remembered Thanksgiving and he realized it was true. Between Shane checking on him every day at some point and sweet little Savannah sending him cookies and other sweets via Shane, he wasn’t as alone as he’d felt in those early days. And Logan…
“I can be on the next flight out,” Vin said.
“I know. Stay. Find Ren.”
He could picture his brother’s look of frustration as he struggled with which brother needed him more. “Find Ren,” Dom said again, then smiled in satisfaction when he heard his brother sigh.
“Yeah. I will.”
“I know you will,” Dom said as the static crackled and Vin’s voice started to break up. He managed a quick goodbye before the line went dead.
***
“No, no, no,” Logan said adamantly as he closed the door in Walter Jessup’s sedate face.
He banged his head softly on the door several times, then held it there as he heard the unaffected voice on the other side say, “Mr. Bradshaw, are you declining the acceptance of this latest correspondence from Mrs. Barretti?”
Hell Yes! Logan absently traced the smooth surface of the doorknob before finally turning it and opening the door. When he’d first heard the knock on his apartment door, a secret thrill had run through him at the thought that maybe it was Dom coming to finish what they’d started in his office. He’d even felt his ass twitch and his cock grow hard at the thought of the larger man’s body pressing him down, holding him still as he took him. It was wrong on every level, but there was no denying the disappointment that had shot through him when he saw Sylvie’s lawyer on the other side or the dread that followed when he realized what the other man’s presence meant. He’d spent the last two days trying to get the image and feeling of Dom’s lips wrapped around his dick out of his head and now the man’s dead wife was back to try and drag him back into a life he didn’t want or need.
When he opened the door, Walter was holding the envelope up expectantly and Logan snatched it from him. “Always a pleasure, Mr. Bradshaw,” the weathered man said as he turned and picked his way down the rickety staircase.
“Right,” Logan murmured, his eyes already focused on his name once again scrawled in feminine writing. He closed the door, then went to his kitchen table and sat down. It would be so easy to tear it up – rip it into so many little pieces that putting it back together wouldn’t be an option. Then maybe he could go on with his life, forget the feelings that tormented him. His entire life had been about focus and drive and there had never been a time, even after his parents died, where he lost sight of his future. Success may not have been easy or instantaneous, but it wasn’t something he had ever doubted would eventually come his way if he just put in the effort. And while he hadn’t ever specifically focused on a wife or kids being in that final picture, he’d always just assumed those things would come naturally when it was time.
But one by one things were falling away from him…being torn away, actually. Sam Reynolds had taken most of it; his trust, his faith in others, his belief that he’d done good by his sister, his business and nearly his life. But it was a letter identical to the one in his hand that had stripped him of his identity. His sexuality had literally been the reason he’d gotten as far as he had and now even that was in question. Because Sylvie Barretti had seen something in him that he couldn’t see in himself. Because one kiss with Dom had lit a fire in him that he knew in his gut would never go away. His feelings for the man were a jumble, but his body would never stop craving Dom’s and he knew it. One fuck and one blowjob would never be enough to satisfy this need that clawed at him now.
Logan carefully tore the envelope open, then unfolded the letter. Before he could even start reading, he was caught off guard by how different the writing looked this time. The soft, neat, curvy words were gone, replaced with stark, sharp-edged scrawl that looked jagged against the pretty stationary. Like the writer had struggled to get each word down. He flipped to the second page and checked the name. Her name was there, but the last two letters were nearly illegible. Going back to the beginning of the letter, he sat back in the chair and tried to prepare himself for whatever was to come.
My dearest Logan,
One of the few gifts of cancer is that it gives you time…time to accept that you won’t beat it and time to make amends and say goodbye. I called you several times to do the last two, but I always chickened out in the end.
So I am going to start with the easy part. Goodbye Logan. You are an amazing, strong, beautiful man and you came into our lives at the perfect time. I have no doubt that if we could have had more time, maybe things could have been different for all of us. I know that Dom was not the only one who was enamored by you. You knew us for one night, but through your sister and through Dom’s work, we knew you much longer.
Now the hard part. I wish I could have said these words in person, but I am a coward because I fear you will not forgive me. I’m sorry for the hurt I caused, both by manipulating you into joining us for the wrong reasons and for not being strong enough to let you go. I wrote that first letter only weeks ago and I could easily call Walter up and end all this – you could go on with your life as it was before. But I am selfish and afraid. My desire to protect my husband is stronger than doing the righteous thing and leaving you alone.
I only ask one more favor and it is not forgiveness because I haven’t earned that. By now you may have figured out that I paid your hospital bills. I know you will want to pay all of the money back, but my favor is this. Pay it forward instead. When you reach a place in your life where you can, use what you have to help someone else get back on their feet. Someone strong and pure who doesn’t deserve the tragedies life has given them. Someone who just needs a helping hand so they can be the person they were meant to be. Because that’s how I see you – not as a charity case – but as someone who has given everything to take care of the only family he has left…someone who brings comfort and peace to those around him. Someone who deserves any future he wants.
It’s getting late and I find it harder to stay clear headed when I’m tired. Sorry for the poor handwriting…my mother would be appalled because she always used to tell me that our handwriting was our best first impressions. But it’s harder to get the words on paper now and I know my fear will keep me from making that phone call I so wish I could have made.
Take care of yourself, Logan.
Love, Sylvie
Tears stung his eyes as he carefully refolded the letter and returned it to the envelope. He didn’t want to read it again…didn’t need to.
“I forgive you,” he whispered as he lowered the envelope to the table. It was the easiest thing he’d done in a really long time.
***
Dom unsnapped the leash on Baby’s collar and watched
the dog trot to his water bowl and start slurping down big gulps, half of it sloshing over the edge of the bowl. He’d starting taking the dog for runs with him at a nearby park, but it was clear the animal was out of shape because Dom always ended up having to walk more than run so Baby could catch his breath. The Rottweiler dropped to the floor and rested his chin on the edge of the bowl as he continued to lap at the water. Dom smiled, then turned and headed for a much needed shower. Even though the December weather was brisk, he’d still managed to work up a sweat. It wasn’t enough to knock him into a deep, dreamless slumber like he craved, but it was better than sitting around in the silent apartment missing her voice.
Once he reached his bedroom, he stripped off his shirt and reached for the sweats, but stopped when his phone rang. He didn’t typically get phone calls on his home number and when he glanced at the number he winced.
“Hey Declan, what’s up?” he said as he answered the phone.
“I tried your cell,” came the clipped voice on the other end. Sylvie’s brother, Declan Hale, was an enigma. Big, gruff, quiet – the exact opposite of his little sister. Dom had always gotten along with Declan, but he had to admit that was because the man kept mostly to himself. His only soft spot had been his sister and without her as a connection between them, he’d seen little of Declan since the funeral.
“I was running. I didn’t have it with me.”
“Something’s come up. Can you come down to the precinct?” Declan asked.
“Yeah. Everything okay?” Dom asked curiously. His brother in-law was a detective with the Seattle Police Department.
“How long?” came the response.
Dom felt a chill go through him at the lack of a real answer to his question. “What’s going on?” he said firmly, hoping his tone made it clear he wasn’t hanging up until he got some real answers.
There was a long silence on the other end of the phone, then Declan sighed and said, “It’s about Logan and Savannah Bradshaw.”
“Are they okay?” Dom nearly shouted as he reached for his shirt and yanked it on while he fumbled to keep the phone close enough to his ear so he could hear.
“They’re fine,” Declan assured him. “Some things have come up that I want to go over with you,” he said, his voice firm this time as he finished talking and Dom knew he’d get no more out of him for the moment.
“I’m on my way.”
***
Logan was bone tired as he trudged up the stairs to his apartment and fumbled with the lock. His too small shower was calling his name after another long night of laying pavement as the endless headlights of speeding cars flew past on the always busy interstate that led out of the city. If he was really lucky, he’d pass out as soon as his head hit the pillow and he wouldn’t have the recurring dream of Dom fucking him in every conceivable position. But nothing beat the nightmare that had started after he got Sylvie’s second letter a couple of days ago. Not only was Sylvie begging him to forgive him as she lay dying in her hospital bed, but it was happening as Dom had him leaning over the edge of her bed as he pounded into him from behind. It was beyond twisted.
“Logan.”
Logan spun around at the familiar voice, completely caught off guard at being snuck up on. His surroundings had been something he’d become more aware of since Sam had gotten the drop on him that day in the bar. He didn’t remember anything after he’d arrived at the bar, but maybe if he’d been on guard then he wouldn’t have nearly cost his sister her life.
“What are you doing here?” Logan snapped, angry that this man was the very reason he couldn’t get it together long enough to be aware of what the hell was going on around him.
“We need to talk.”
Logan pushed open his door, but placed his body in the entryway. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Logan said.
“It’s important,” Dom said as he took a step forward.
Logan’s whole body tightened in anticipation at having Dom in such close proximity, but that only made him angrier. “No,” he said as he shook his head. His hand actually came up as if to ward Dom off. His emotions were too raw, his desire too tightly wound to be around this man. If he let him in, he’d be begging Dom to suck his dick again and then fuck him until he was too sated with pleasure to care that he was with a man instead of a woman. He stepped back and started to close the door.
“It’s about Sam Reynolds.”
Logan froze, his hand tight on the doorknob. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, but he automatically stepped back when Dom gently pushed the door open.
“Let me in, Logan,” he urged.
Logan forced himself to release the doorknob that he was still clutching before he backed up into the apartment. His hand automatically went to the scar on his chest.
“The body they found in your bar wasn’t his.”
Logan shook his head almost violently. “Savannah saw him fall into the fire.”
Dom closed the door, but didn’t move any further into the room. “Someone at the ME’s office fucked up. They released the body for burial before a DNA test was finished and no one at the police department noticed that the testing wasn’t done.”
“Then how do they know-”
“You submitted a request for a copy of the death certificate,” Dom said.
Logan nodded. “I needed it to get the paperwork for the ownership of the bar straightened out. It was the first step to getting him removed as an investor so I can sell the place.” He felt numb as he leaned back against the living room wall.
“Someone at the ME’s office finally figured things out when they got the request for the death certificate. They took samples from Sam’s truck to compare against the body, but never ran them. After your request came in and they realized they’d fucked up, they ran the tests and discovered the DNA from the body didn’t match what was found in the truck.”
“But someone else was driving Sam’s truck that day. Maybe it was his DNA…” Logan faltered, his brain refusing to register what Dom was telling him.
“There were multiple samples in Reynolds’ truck including the guy he paid to drive the truck across the border. Bottom line is, none of the samples from the truck matched the body found after the fire.”
“He’s alive,” Logan finally acknowledged.
“He probably got out right after Savannah pushed him. As she was trying to get back to you,” Dom said.
“Before you saved us. Me,” Logan said quietly.
He saw a flash of something in Dom’s eyes at that, but the man quickly stiffened and said, “The body they found in the bar belonged to a homeless man whose friends had reported him missing a couple days after the fire. His age, height and build all matched Reynolds. They exhumed his body and finally did an autopsy. Reynolds shot him in the head. He was probably dead before you even walked in the door that day.”
“He planned to take Savannah with him.”
“Faking his death would have bought him the time he needed to get away,” Dom agreed.
Fear shot through Logan and he began patting down his pockets. “My phone,” he muttered. Every pocket was flat and empty and panic seized at him as he glanced around the room desperately. “Give me your phone,” he shouted as he closed the distance between himself and Dom. “I need to call Savannah.”
Dom grabbed his arms and held him before he could do anything else. “She’s safe, Logan. She and Shane are on their way to Chicago.” Logan relaxed marginally and let out the breath he’d been holding. “As soon as I found out what was happening, I contacted Shane. You didn’t answer your phone,” he added. “We figured it would be safer to get Savannah out of the city so I had my plane readied for them. The pilot let me know they took off about ten minutes ago.”
Logan swallowed hard at the relief that went through him knowing that his sister was safe for the moment. For weeks they’d walked around unaware that that monster was still out there. It would have been so easy for Sam to grab her. He felt the warmth of
Dom’s fingers pressing into his arms, the thumbs rubbing tiny circles into his skin in an effort to comfort him. He forced himself to pull free of Dom, then went into his bedroom. There on his nightstand was the cell phone. He grabbed it and went back to the living room, his eyes on the multiple missed call notifications and texts.
“I’m sure she’ll be calling you anytime now,” Dom said. “She was pretty upset about leaving without talking to you first.”
“I always forget the damn thing,” Logan muttered as he sent a quick text to Savannah to let her know he was safe and to contact him as soon as she could.
“They’ll be safe in Chicago. I’ve arranged for a security team for them. I have a couple of guys on Gabe and Riley too, but I don’t think Reynolds ever had contact with them, did he?”
Logan shook his head. “He met Gabe once or twice, but they never really talked. I don’t think he ever met Riley or even knew that Gabe had a girlfriend.”
“I want you to come stay at my place,” Dom said.
Logan nearly laughed at the absurd suggestion. “No way.”
“It’s not safe for you to be alone.”
Logan rubbed his chest again, then realized what he was doing and dropped his hand. Anger went through him and he said, “I hope that son of a bitch does show up here.”
“You think he’s just gonna knock on your door so you can kick his ass?” Dom said angrily. “He’s a fucking coward and he’s going to wait in the shadows and put another bullet in you – one that you won’t walk away from this time!”
“It’s not your problem,” Logan responded coldly.
Dom tightened his lips and Logan saw him shift his weight as if he was preparing to grab Logan. But then Dom stepped back away from him and reached for his cell phone. He sent a quick text, then looked back up at Logan. “The police are matching the other DNA samples they collected from Sam’s truck. Two of the samples have already been matched to missing women,” he said curtly.
Logan reared back at that. “Oh God,” he said as he realized the implication. “Who?” he muttered.
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