by Lexi Blake
Seth could hear them moving around behind him, searching for clues, but he was focused on what this guy had been looking for. From this vantage point, he couldn’t see into the master, but he could see the room Logan had taken over. He couldn’t see inside. Perhaps at night he would be able to, but Logan said the man had been watching them this morning.
Seth turned the glasses slightly, and Henry walked across the lawn, moving from his small cabin to Seth’s.
The walkie-talkie squawked and the sheriff’s voice came over the radio. “There it was. I can see it. Wherever you have the binoculars pointed right now is where this guy was looking.”
Logan started talking to Nate, but all Seth could see was Henry making his way across the lawn, the way he likely did ten times a day.
Was the person who stood here earlier watching the house or was he watching Henry?
Either way, Seth had to find out.
Chapter Twelve
Logan looked up from his desk. The day seemed to drag on though he’d only been at the office for the last two hours. Somehow time seemed to have slowed to a near stop. He had to admit to himself that he enjoyed certain parts of the job. He really did enjoy helping people, but the rest of it kind of sucked. How had he ever thought he would be able to work here for the next forty years?
But he was starting to think he couldn’t work the dungeon at The Club forever either.
There was always college. He would be an older freshman, but lots of people took a gap year. He’d taken like eight.
There was the small problem of money, though.
Gemma stood up, slinging her enormous leather bag over her shoulder. “It’s noon. I’m heading to lunch. Can I bring something back from Stella’s for you? Cade’s already there. He called to let me know that today is soufflé day. Apparently Hal is on a rampage and everyone has to be super quiet. They’ve made it into a game.”
He shook his head. He wasn’t hungry. He hadn’t been all day. He was stuck and couldn’t figure out how to fucking move. Since he’d returned home, it felt like a hundred paths had been laid out for him, and he couldn’t take a single step down any of them. “Nah. I got a sandwich in the fridge.”
Gemma’s perfectly plucked brows formed a V. “Really? I didn’t take you to be the kind of guy who made his own lunch. You seem like a grab-a-burger guy.”
He had been. Except Georgia had made him a sandwich on his way out. Ham and Swiss with hot mustard and one tomato, and absolutely no disgusting lettuce. Exactly like he liked it. He’d seen her talking to his ma as she put the sandwich in a bag along with some chips and the cookies that had been miraculously saved. He said miraculously because he’d actually tried one and, holy shit, they were fantastic. But he wasn’t about to tell Gemma Wells that his almost sub had taken the time to make his lunch and send him on his way with a thermos of coffee and a kiss on the cheek he’d pretended didn’t mean anything. “I’m trying to cut back on the burgers.”
“You know the sandwich would keep,” Gemma pointed out. “Come on. Come meet my guys. They’re curious about you. You’re kind of a legend around these parts, as the locals would say.”
Yes, he was a legend for getting his ass kicked and hard. “You go on and have fun. I’m going to keep watch here. Nate is dealing with a problem at the art gallery. Apparently Max and Rachel got into something on Main Street and then took it inside, and now they’re locked in a closet. Nate’s waiting on a locksmith, but Max keeps screaming something about how nice Rachel’s new shoes are. It’s a typical Bliss clusterfuck. Literally. I’ll stay here. I don’t want us to be shorthanded.”
She frowned. “Come on. What’s going to happen if you step away for lunch?”
Alien invasion? Bigfoot sighting? Assassins. Hell, they had it all in Bliss. He sent Gemma a pointed look.
She shrugged. “Fine. I’ll be back in an hour or two.”
She swept out of the room, and he was left alone to think about what his momma had said this morning. The idea of Marie Warner having problems with her heart damn near brought him to his knees. She was so strong, so solid. He’d thrown his father out there as a way of getting her off the scent. The truth was he didn’t much think about the man who had donated half of his DNA. Momma Marie had been the one to throw baseballs with him. She’d been the one to teach him to fish and how to haul himself up and keep trying when he fell off a horse. He didn’t need a man to have a father. He’d had two loving parents, and they’d been enough.
He was the problem. He wasn’t trying. She’d been right about that. He’d found a safe place where he didn’t ache all the time and he was willing to stay there. Georgia was forcing him to want more.
It wasn’t only Georgia. Hell, Seth made him want more. That kid he’d thought had died so long ago was making a return appearance, like a turtle popping its head out of his shell. He’d reached for those dumb comic books not fifteen minutes ago, from curiosity at first, and then he’d started rereading the story and it was only Gemma walking in from the break room that made him shove that shit aside.
Being home after months of therapy with Leo was doing bad things to his defenses.
He hadn’t thought about any of this when he was at The Club. He hadn’t thought about his friends. He hadn’t thought about Jamie and Hope and Noah. They hadn’t been quite real when he’d been in Dallas. He hadn’t been upset he’d missed their wedding then. Now he thought about the fact that Jamie Glen, the manwhore of Bliss County, had gotten married and he hadn’t been around to rib the holy fuck out of him. He’d missed the bachelor party. It had been thrown by Max and Rye, but it should have been Logan. He was closer to them. Once.
He hadn’t had to think about that in Dallas.
He hadn’t thought about his mommas or how they were getting older, frailer. He hadn’t had to consider that they worried about him, that he might cause stress between them. He hadn’t worried that he was an irreplaceable cog in the family machine. He’d been single and on his own and thinking of no one but himself. He liked to laugh at the child he’d been, but at least that child had taken responsibility seriously. The adult he’d become seemed to just want to forget.
His eyes stole toward Nate’s office. People weren’t the only things he hadn’t needed to think about. He hadn’t thought about that day. Not consciously. Sometimes in Dallas, whole hours would go by before he remembered. Damn, but he remembered that door. He recalled every streak on the wood, every panel. Nate had left the door open.
It hadn’t been that day. The door had been closed. He remembered it vividly. They laid him out on the desk, arms and legs tied down, and he’d looked up and watched the door close. Every inch of the office beyond that disappeared was another mile into hell. When it had shut entirely, his world was changed forever.
Was his momma right? Was he allowing a few hours of pain to take away a lifetime of love and joy? How the hell did he fix it? He couldn’t come back here full time. He couldn’t be a deputy for the rest of his life, but did he want the half life he had in Dallas? Did he want his only connection to his friend and the woman he cared about to be through a stinking five-page contract that Leo had faxed over? It wasn’t even a personalized contract. There were blank lines for the Dominants and submissive to place their name. Shouldn’t they at least have a contract that had been written specifically for them?
Stef would be able to write it up, but he knew damn well he wasn’t going to Stefan Talbot. Julian wouldn’t write a contract for someone he had never met, never put through his rigorous tests and slightly intrusive questionnaires. He could practically see Georgia’s face when Julian Lodge asked her about her feelings on having a cock shoved up her ass. He would have to get in between the big Dom and his sweet-faced, smart-mouthed sub or Armageddon would occur quickly.
His eyes strayed back to Nate’s office, the door wide open, a gift basket of horrors. Oh, they could clean up the blood, get rid of the implements of his torture, but the room was still there. He could still feel that fir
st breath of horror, hear the slap of flesh striking his. Funny. He’d heard it before he felt it, as though his brain couldn’t process what his ears could for the barest of moments. He’d thought, just for a second, that it wouldn’t be so bad because it didn’t hurt. He could survive. He could make it through this.
And then his nerve endings had screamed to life.
He was taken out of his rotten memories by the sound of his cell pinging. Text.
People here really like their guns. I think I can make them prettier, though. Ordering a BeDazzler ASAP. Having fun with your momma, but what’s up with all the tofu? Pick up meat for dinner. Will cook for sex. XOXO, Georgia
And then there was a flurry of emoticons that Georgia seemed to believe every message required. There were three hearts, one red, one blue, one green, and multiple kissy lips and a dolphin. He kind of thought she threw those in to be surreal, but he couldn’t help but smile. He quickly sent her one back.
You’re not bedazzling my gun, baby, but I will feed you some sausage tonight. You better be ready to open wide.
He stared down at the message. He sounded almost normal, like he was her boyfriend and they were playing. He deleted the message and set down the phone.
Damn it. He liked her. He’d said they couldn’t be friends, but they already were. He liked her sassiness and wanted to text her all day. He wanted to take a picture of his dick and see if she was really as sassy as she liked to play at.
But she was with his momma and his momma had no compunction about looking on someone’s phone. He could imagine the lecture he would get about sexting and keeping his junk in his pants.
And damn it, she wasn’t his girlfriend. She hadn’t even signed a contract yet.
The doors to the outer office opened, and he tensed briefly before forcing himself to relax. He wasn’t some dumb kid anymore. He had his gun and he wasn’t afraid to use it.
And then he was seriously thinking about using it because Alexei Markov walked through the inner doors, the big Russian pulling off his cap as he looked around. “Gemma? Sheriff?”
It would be simple, so easy to shoot the fucker and be done. He could have his pistol out in a second and it would all be over. Alexei had sent him to hell. It was only proper to return the favor.
And what would that solve? You wouldn’t be killing the person who truly let you down. That man would still be walking and talking, but he would be in an orange jumpsuit, having brought shame down on everyone he loved.
Sometimes he hated his inner voice. It had started to take on Leo Meyer’s deeply reasonable tone. His inner voice was right. Killing Alexei would solve nothing. Logan had his chance that night in Hell on Wheels, but he was always a coward. He’d proven that over and over again.
“Nate’s not here and Gemma’s gone to lunch. You’ll have to come back later.” Logan turned to his computer screen, flipping it on. There was always some sort of paperwork to do around the office. They all tried to avoid it like the plague, but sometimes it came in handy. It gave him something to focus on because despite the knowledge that killing Alexei wouldn’t solve his problems, he also knew it would make him feel satisfied for a few minutes.
“You are back. This is good.”
Logan didn’t look up. “I’m filling in for Cam while he’s on leave.”
“Ah.” The fucker didn’t seem to be taking Logan’s point. Out of the corner of his eye, he registered that Alexei moved toward him, hat in his hands. It was a knit cap, the kind a man wore all year long in the mountains because even spring and summer could be cold at the right time of day. Holly liked to knit. He had a cap from Holly. She’d given it to him for his birthday a couple of years back. It was in a box somewhere along with the rest of his life.
“This is good also. Laura is good mother. I think maybe I convince Holly to give it other shooting one day.”
Holly already had a grown kid, but neither Caleb nor Alexei had kids of their own. And none of that fucking meant a thing to Logan. He finally brought his eyes up, his jaw hardening. “Is there something I can help you with, Markov?”
Alexei frowned, that playboy smile of his turning down. He was an intimidating height and bulk, but Logan matched him now. “You are still angry.”
“I am nothing to you.” It was the truth. Months of therapy had lessened his anger toward Holly. She couldn’t help the fact that she had terrible taste in men, but he couldn’t fucking stand Alexei.
“This is not true. You are meaningful to me. I think about you many times.” Alexei sighed. “I am always saying the sorries in my head.”
He could say sorry in that thick Russian accent twenty-four seven and it wouldn’t make a difference. “But you would do it again.”
The look on Markov’s face told the tale. He was resolute. “And I say this, too. And if shoe was tied to your foot, I would expect the same from you. It is contract between men. We take the pain so the women can live. Can you honestly say that you would not place me in same situation were roles turned around? If it had been your mother?”
If it had been Georgia…
Georgia had been taken from him once, and that had been before he’d known what it was like to hold her and love her. He’d been willing to do damn near anything to get her back then. He’d felt powerless those hours he’d spent waiting for her brothers to figure out where she’d been taken. If he could have almost guaranteed her survival, what would he have been willing to give up?
Maybe it was time to have this out with Markov. Leo had wanted him to have this conversation months ago, but Logan had told him he was cool. He’d lied to Leo saying Alexei didn’t bother him anymore. He wasn’t fucking cool. “You knew what would happen to me. You knew I didn’t have the information they wanted.”
A deep sympathy came over Markov’s face. “I did. I knew how much pain you be forcing to take. I am sorry. Words are harder when they are important. You understand?”
He was struggling with his English. Over the months he’d been here, he’d actually gotten much better, but now Alexei sounded like he’d gotten off the plane today. “You knew they would kill me.”
His pitch-black hair shook. “No. I knew they would if I could not find way out of situation. This is something I know. But I also know that Luka like to play. He is sadist. He take his time.”
“You asked me to trust you.” He could still hear those words right before he’d been kicked in the gut and dragged away. Alexei Markov had sold him to his Russian mob cohorts to buy time to save his own ass.
Except Alexei could easily have saved himself by giving them all up. The mob boss had come for a painting, and Holly had known where it was. Then Jen had shown up and it had all gone to hell, and the only thing that kept those women from being raped and killed was the fact that they’d been too busy brutalizing one Logan Green.
“I know. And I think you will not trust anyone again. I think this break you, but I want to tell you that you do not have to stay broken, Logan. You can to be putting pieces back together. They may not fit as perfectly as once they did, but they can fit. I think I am broken when I lose my brother.”
“The one that fucker Pushkin killed?” He knew a bit of Alexei’s story. He hadn’t been able to avoid it. His brother had been killed by the same mobster who ordered Logan’s torture.
“Yes. Pushkin kill Mikhail because he will not pay securities and he tries to talk to others, to band them against the bosses. He was brave man, my brother. I was not so brave. I was angry. You are angry, too. I would hate to be seeing you lose all those years like I did.”
“We’re nothing alike.” He didn’t have anything in common with Alexei.
Alexei shook his head. “We both go through pain. We both chose wrong path. We are very much alike.”
“I haven’t chosen the same path as you, asshole,” Logan shot back. “I’m not some criminal.”
Alexei’s voice went low. “Tell me you don’t think about killing. Tell me you don’t think about blood and how good it would
feel on your hands. You think about killing me because I am one left behind. I am one you can focus on. Tell me how you would to kill me.”
How many times had he thought about it? At first it had been Luka’s face he’d seen in bloody revenge fantasies, but when Alexei had returned to Bliss and started his happy life, Logan had switched to dreams of him. It had been all right when it was likely that Alexei would go to prison. He could handle it. There was some punishment involved, but then he walked right back into town like a conquering hero. Yeah, Logan had thought about killing him more than once. “I would gut you. I would make you feel everything I felt and then some. I would love the look on your face when you realized what I was going to do to your…”
Fuck. He wasn’t talking about that.
Alexei’s voice went soft, like he was trying not to spook an easily scared animal away. “I know all of Luka’s tricks. I worry he do these things to you. Are you…how to ask? Caleb will not talk about it. He say it is privacy issue. He will not tell me even when I beg to know because guilt eats at me. Are you still whole?”
Logan shot up, his whole body stiff with rage. He never talked about it. Never. Not even to Leo. Not to his moms. Only Caleb had to know because he’d been the one to deal with the aftermath. “You want to see it? You want to see if he cut my fucking cock off? Because he tried. He was going to do it. You fucking knew he would do it, didn’t you? Guess what? Caleb is damn good at his job. I can still fuck all I like.”
After he’d recovered and the swelling had gone down, that was exactly what he’d done. He’d fucked any woman who would let him climb on top of her. He’d done it to prove he was still a damn man. But the ability to screw a chick, he’d learned, didn’t take away the pain.
Alexei held his hands up. “I am sorry. I am so glad to be hearing this. It is thing Luka did before he killed a man. I think he believe it made him strong. I knew it would take a while. And when Luka goes to kill you, this is when I take the chance and follow him in.”