Hide Your Crazy (KPD Motorcycle Patrol Book 1)

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Hide Your Crazy (KPD Motorcycle Patrol Book 1) Page 14

by Lani Lynn Vale


  I wasn’t quite sure I agreed with her, but I appreciated her belief in me.

  “I’ll work it out, honey,” I told her. “In the meantime, keep your nose clean, don’t talk to the press, and for God’s sake, make sure that you pay attention to your surroundings. We don’t know who killed Jakobe, so we need to be cautious right now and assume the worst.”

  “The worst being…”

  “That whoever killed him could also know what he did to you,” I said. “I have this feeling.”

  Her eyes sharpened. “One of those feelings.”

  I nodded once.

  “Okay,” she said. “Then I’ll make sure to pay attention, and I won’t do anything stupid like walk alone at night in the dark.”

  My mouth kicked up.

  She rose onto her tiptoes and pressed her mouth against mine. Softly.

  “Take care of yourself, Logan Gibbs,” she ordered. “I want someone to handcuff myself to tonight.”

  With that, she walked away and didn’t look back.

  Because if she had, she would’ve still seen her father standing at the end of the long hallway, an expression of hostility on his face.

  Fuck.

  I turned my back on the man and started outside, heading straight for my motor unit.

  Captain Morgan never left my side.

  “Are you a motherfuckin’ dumbass?” Captain Morgan asked as we walked toward the bikes.

  “I’m sorry but correct me if I’m wrong,” I looked at him. “I just made it to where his daughter had an alibi. He might not like the fact that I slept with her, which I’m going to do again, and again hopefully, but he’s grateful that I did because otherwise her whereabouts couldn’t be corroborated last night, and she might have found herself in a very different situation today.”

  Captain Morgan sighed. “Just because you are right, doesn’t mean that he’s not going to hate you.”

  That was true.

  Very, very true.

  I would also deal.

  I’d done it before, I’d do it again.

  I was the master of riding out storms.

  That was what my life had been like for my entire life. One massive storm. I’d think that I’d weathered it, that I’d made it out whole on the other side, just for it to swing back around and fuck me up all over again.

  I had no idea that Katy would be the biggest storm of all, or that I’d come to need that storm as much as I did.

  Chapter 16

  Telling a man that you already have a man won’t stop him from wanting you. But if you tell him you used to be a man…

  -Text from AJ to Katy

  Katy

  It was morning once again, and this time instead of metal handcuffs around our wrists to keep me in place, there were fur-lined leather ones holding us together.

  Logan was on top of me, moving slowly in and out of me, and his mouth was devouring mine.

  I gasped and lifted my legs higher, trying to find that perfect angle, when he completely shifted us to where I was on top.

  The moment that he had me in place, I rose up and started riding him fast. Fast and hard, until that feeling was at a fever pitch.

  When I started to feel that place tightening, feeling closer and closer to where I needed to be, I whispered, “I’m going to come.”

  Logan’s hands spanned my hips and helped me move, up and down, harder and harder until finally I detonated.

  I cried out, throwing my head back, exposing my throat.

  He lifted up and dropped his mouth to my neck, hands fisting in my hair as he fucked me harder and faster.

  Things inside of me clenched, tightened and exploded all at once.

  My abdominal muscles clenched so hard that they began to hurt, and my breathing was sawing so fast in and out of my lungs that my throat was beginning to feel raw.

  Logan took over from there, lifting me and yanking me back down.

  The wetness between my thighs lubricated the way, allowing him to slip so far inside of me that I knew I’d be feeling it for days.

  “Logan,” I breathed, my pussy still pulsing around him.

  He grunted out a, “Yeah, baby.”

  “Come,” I urged.

  I wanted to feel him hot and slick inside of me.

  I wanted to feel the added wetness between my thighs. I wanted him to fill me up so full that he was leaking out of me.

  Which he did moments later, grunting out his release, as well as cursing when I tightened my muscles.

  His cock jerked inside of me and stilled.

  We both clung to each other for a few long seconds after that, allowing our heart rates to come back down to normal, acceptable, non-tachycardic levels.

  When his mouth moved to press a kiss to my breastbone, I closed my eyes and breached the topic I’d been meaning to breach since his ex-wife had brought it up the day before.

  “I have a one in fifty thousand chance of ever conceiving a child naturally,” I found myself saying. “Becoming pregnant would be an utter miracle.”

  He stiffened.

  “Your ex-wife said something the other day, and I have a feeling that it shamed you to hear her say it,” I continued, clinging tighter when I felt him try to push me away. “But I just wanted you to know that maybe we’re both broken that way…and make a good pair. We both know that the expectations there are very low.”

  He pulled away and stared into my eyes.

  “My sperm count is so low that the chances of me getting you pregnant are non-existent,” he admitted. “Even if you hadn’t had whatever you have…”

  “PCOS,” I interrupted. “I have PCOS, polycystic ovary syndrome.”

  He frowned. “That sounds bad.”

  “Honestly, it could be worse,” I admitted. “I first went to the doctor because my periods were so…wacky. They were long, drawn-out, and not normal. Then they started not only becoming long, but infrequent. Sometimes I’d go a few months without one, and other times it’d be six days. Which is the trend right now. I haven’t had a period in about half a year.”

  His brows rose. “Does that hurt you?”

  I shook my head. “No. It just sucks because when I do finally have one, it’s going to take me out for days.”

  He squeezed my hips as his face scrunched up in worry.

  But before we could have any other discussions on the matter, there was a knock at the front door.

  I looked at the clock that read 4:34 in the morning, then looked at the dogs that shot up from their easy recline on the floor and hauled ass toward the front door, then turned and looked at Logan.

  His eyes were staring blankly at my chest.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  He blinked and came out of the trance that he’d been in while staring at my chest, then went to work on the cuffs that were binding us together still.

  After they were off, he helped me back on with my nightgown, went to work on a pair of sweatpants that were carelessly tossed on the ground when we went to bed that night, and caught my hand.

  Walking to the door, he glanced out of the peephole and started to curse.

  “What is it?” I licked my lips worriedly.

  “Cops,” he answered, opening the door.

  A rush of cold air hit me in the face, and I shivered at the same time I wrapped my arms around him.

  That was when the alarm started to sound. The one that he’d set last night in his apartment, but then forgot about.

  “Shit,” he cursed and stepped back, walking to the panel that was beside the door and immediately shutting it off.

  The sudden silence was deafening as I stared at the same two cops that had been doing our questioning not even twenty-four hours before.

  Hastings and Bridges both stared at our undressed state.

  “Spent the night cuffed together again?” Bridges asked bluntly.

  I felt myself flush down to my toes.

  “Yes,” Logan answered, no such embarrassment in his tone. “Why?”r />
  “You got proof?” he asked, this time a little terser than he’d been before.

  Logan stiffened. “I have the alarm that will show has been set for the last nine hours. It was turned on at seven last night when we walked in the door and hasn’t been turned off since.”

  Speaking of, the dogs seeing a chance for freedom, darted out the door and barreled their way down the stairs.

  Logan pushed past Hastings and walked to the edge of the balcony so he could see them, leaning one hip against the metal railing as if the cool morning air didn’t affect him in the slightest.

  “What happened this time?” Logan asked, sounding bored.

  I reached for the jacket that was hanging next to the door and wrapped it around myself.

  It was Logan’s leather, police-issued motor patrol jacket that protected him when he was riding.

  It was warm and heavy around my shoulders as I too stepped out onto the balcony.

  The cold slapped me in the face, but I didn’t stop moving until I was leaning against Logan.

  He wrapped his arm around me, pulling me in close, anchoring me.

  That way, when Hastings said what he said next, I didn’t completely fall straight on my face in shock.

  “Your ex-wife was attacked last night around ten in the evening,” Hastings said. “She’s currently in the hospital with life-threatening injuries.”

  I gasped. “What about the baby?”

  Bridges jerked his chin toward the car that was parked closest to the stairs. “In the car.”

  Logan stiffened.

  “Since you’re her father…” Bridges started.

  Logan, however, started shaking his head.

  “I’m not the baby’s father,” he answered. “Paydon Maxwell is.”

  Bridges jerked like he’d received a punch to the chest.

  Hastings’ mouth dropped open.

  “W-what?” Hastings practically barked.

  Obviously the two of them knew who Paydon was, because they were equally as affronted at the news as I was once I learned who Paydon was.

  “She…”

  “She slept with him while we were still married, got pregnant, and then tried to pass the baby off as mine,” Logan confirmed.

  “Fuck,” Bridges groaned. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

  “Shit,” Hastings cursed.

  My mouth twitched at their lack of filter.

  “My sentiments exactly,” Logan grumbled.

  “All this time…” Hastings shook his head. “You do realize that everyone, and I do mean everyone, thinks that you left your wife when she was pregnant, divorced her, and then refused to help with your own kid, right?”

  Logan nodded.

  “Why would you do that?” Hastings asked. “And you do realize that that gives you even more motive to attack her, right?”

  “He didn’t do it,” I insisted, not giving Logan a chance to talk to either man. “He was with me the entire night. You can look on the app and see exactly when the alarm was set. There are sensors on the windows as well that keep you from leaving out that way. Call the alarm company.”

  Hastings waved my order away.

  “We trust you. Though we’re going to get that information anyway, because the chief is gonna want this by the books,” he promised. “But seriously, man. There are a lot of men on the force that don’t like you based solely on what you did to your wife. Why the fuck are you allowing them to think this?”

  “Because he’s a good man,” I answered for them. “And he’s protecting Paydon and that kid of hers.”

  Hastings wrinkled his nose in annoyance.

  “Paydon is still pretty fucked up,” Logan admitted. “It’s been almost two years, and he still hasn’t called me because he thinks I’m mad at him. Thinks that he did something wrong when all he ended up doing was falling for my ex-wife’s scheme. There’s a whole lot more to the story here, but I wanted to make sure that if Paydon wanted to meet his child, that he could. And by doing that, I had to keep my options open until Paydon was ready to fight.”

  “What if he never fights for the kid?” Bridges asked.

  “Then he never fights for the kid.” Logan shrugged. “But I know that he will. He’s all there. He just doesn’t think past a twelve-year-old’s logic when it comes to the situation. Plus, I plan on going up there soon and trying to convince him.”

  Hastings looked toward the car. “You might want to make that ‘soon’ now,” he suggested. “And get him to run a paternity test while he’s here.”

  “In the meantime,” Bridges said. “You’re going to need to watch this kid. Otherwise we’re going to have to relinquish her to child protective services, and shit will get a little tougher.”

  Logan swallowed hard.

  “Okay,” he said, sounding scared to death.

  “Do kids scare you, Logan?” I wondered.

  Logan’s ears turned pink.

  “Kids are not my forte,” he admitted. “In fact, I think almost every kid that I come into contact with hates me.”

  Bridges chuckled as he started walking down the stairs, I assumed, to go get the kid.

  Hastings continued to watch us.

  “I have a couple of theories,” Hastings murmured, his eyes on Logan. “I think that although y’all are innocent, there is more to the story than we’re seeing. And the story centers on the two of you. Somebody out there is hurting the people that have wronged you. It’s just too convenient that first Jakobe gets knocked off, then Tasia. People that y’all have both had problems with over the last couple of days. The question is, who is it that is witnessing these problems?”

  I sat there for a few seconds and thought about his question.

  “The people at my work,” I thought about it. “But the two women are married to cops, so I highly doubt that they would do anything like kick some guy’s ass until he was dead. Nor do I think I have that kind of connection with them. I just started this job. Hell, the only other person I talked to besides Zee, my mom and dad, my siblings and Logan, was the UPS guy.”

  “Same for me,” Logan admitted. “I didn’t tell anybody besides my brother. And that was only about Tasia. He saw us together yesterday morning, but I had no reason to tell him about anything else. I told him about my ex-wife because I wanted him to be aware of what happened, and that she was probably going to try to get back at me in some way.”

  “Tell me what happened exactly,” Hastings instructed as he leaned against the porch railing. “I have Tasia’s accounting of what happened, and why she thinks this was probably you, but I have a feeling I didn’t get the entire story.”

  Logan shook his head and began to explain everything.

  “Y’all went to court and got visitation rights over both the kid and the dogs, she came to enforce the dog thing yesterday, you told her no since she was outside the time frame, and she threatened to take you to court. Do I have that correct?” Hastings asked.

  “More or less,” Logan said. “Nothing was said or done other than her being her nasty self, making threats. The only problem that I can see that she did this time was make these threats in front of another person.”

  “We’re going to hand this kid off to you,” Bridges said. “Then go do some door to door here. Also, ask Jonah, He lives near here, too. Maybe someone heard something here, thought to intervene by way of murder.”

  Logan swallowed hard and reached for the sleeping child like he was reaching into a cage with a hungry snake.

  The child luckily was asleep and had no clue that Logan was scared to death.

  “Now that I look at the kid,” Bridges said. “Kid looks a lot like Paydon. It’s the face.”

  “Wait until you see the eyes, it’s even more telling,” Logan agreed, holding the kid to his chest while still managing to look uncomfortable as hell.

  I reached forward and took the kid away from Logan.

  “Go call Paydon,” I ordered. “I have her. And since today is Saturday, I don’t have to
go in unless I’m called in. You won’t be alone.”

  Logan looked so relieved that he let out an audible breath.

  My mouth kicked up at the corners.

  “Tasia is roughed up. But I’m sure that she’s still got opinions on the matter of her kid,” Bridges said as he started to step backward toward the stairs. “I have a feeling that you have about twenty-four to forty-eight hours until she’s back with it enough to realize you have her kid.”

  “Meaning,” I said, guessing where he was going, “that we should get Paydon here in the next day, two max, and get this DNA test started.”

  Bridges winked. “Yes, ma’am.”

  I turned and walked inside Logan’s house.

  Then came to a dead stop when I realized that the only place to put her down in the entire place was the bed that we’d just gotten out of.

  “Logan,” I called out. “Why don’t you have a couch?”

  I’d been meaning to ask that, but honestly, I’d had other things on my mind, and at the time, a couch wasn’t the top priority.

  Logan came out of the room with his phone to his ear and a wary look on his face.

  “Because Tasia seems to fuck me over every single time she can, the couch being one of those fuck-overs,” he told me. “And you have to have money to buy a couch. I don’t have very much of that thanks to Tasia.”

  I hated her.

  And I wondered how a cute girl like the one I was holding could come from a fire-breathing monster like Tasia.

  “What’s this kid’s name?” I suddenly asked.

  “Logan,” he grumbled.

  “She named her daughter after you?” I asked.

  He opened his mouth to answer, but the phone to his ear stole his attention away.

  “Mr. Maxwell?” Logan said, sounding tense.

  I went to the stools at the counter and watched him talk to the grandparents of the kid I was holding.

  A kid who was sweet smelling, soft and snuggly. Something that would likely change the moment that she woke up and found herself in an unfamiliar place.

 

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