by Angie Martin
“Jack’s taking care of it,” Logan said, as he lay down across the bench.
Lester’s shiny, bald head jetted out over the top of the seat in front of Logan. “You okay, man? Jack said you had to take out a couple guys back there.”
“They deserved it.” Though he believed his words, he hated it when he had to kill someone. He wanted to hurry back before anyone else showed up that they would also have to kill, but knew they couldn’t leave until the job was done.
“We’ll get you home and fixed up soon enough.” He looked up, out the back window. “In fact, I think I see smoke now.”
Logan used his right arm to pull himself up in the seat. Through the dusky evening, small tendrils of smoke curled from the top of the barn into the sky. He smiled despite the pain. One cocaine lab and a barn filled with child pornography, both destroyed. All in all, a good day.
Chapter Two
“Damn!”
“Just hold still.” Doctor Allison Connors removed her hands from Logan’s arm. Shifting her eyes to his face, she said, “You’ve done this dozens of times in the past. Just a quick snap and it’s back in.”
Logan hated hearing about how quick of a procedure it was. Allie said the same thing the past two times she had put his shoulder back in place and every time it still hurt like hell. “You saying that doesn’t make it hurt any less, doctor.”
She chuckled. “Then quit dislocating your shoulder and I won’t have a reason to pop it back in the socket. From what I understand, you were already a pro at this when I came to work here.”
Logan repositioned himself on the gurney. He gripped the side of the padding with his right hand, ground his molars against each other, and waited for the pain.
In his peripheral vision, Allie took her stance next to the table. She laced her fingers around his wrist and extended his arm. Before he could say anything else to stop her, she pulled on his arm, slow and steady to put tension on the muscles.
Logan groaned at the familiar pop of his joint going back into place. He blew out his breath and rotated his shoulder to make sure it still worked. “That doesn’t get any easier. I swear you make it more painful each time on purpose.”
She stood over him and glared. “You know what will make it easier? Surgery. You won’t be down for very long and I can bring in a surgical team to do it here.”
“Oh no,” he said. He eased up into a sitting position and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “I don’t want something to go wrong and put me out of commission.”
“I know a great surgeon who can—”
“I’m sure he or she is a miracle worker like you, but I’m not doing it.”
“Then I’ll see you back here the next time you decide to dislocate it. Probably in another week at your pace.”
He grabbed her hands and pulled her body in between his legs. When Allie started working at the Church three months earlier, Logan first resisted the idea of getting involved with her, but his body wanted something different than his heart and mind. He made it clear to her that there would be no relationship and though she understood that, she fell in love with him. She didn’t bother keeping it a secret, but he also didn’t keep it a secret that he would never feel the same way. He cared about her as a friend and colleague, nothing more.
Sliding his hands over her hips, he said, “Quit worrying about me.”
She shook her head and brushed his ash brown hair off his damp forehead. “Quit giving me reasons to worry.”
Logan smiled in response.
She took his hands off her body and backed away. “I need to get you some ice for that shoulder and then we can work on the rest of your wounds.”
Logan stared at the floor while she obtained supplies from the adjacent room. He lifted his hand to his shoulder and rubbed at the soreness. He knew he needed surgery, but he didn’t want to chance a complication.
Yet it wasn’t his shoulder or surgery, or even the rest of his minor wounds that weighed on his mind. While on the surface the job appeared successful, so many things had gone wrong. The cocaine lab was empty of personnel, just as they were told it would be, but how did the men find him in the second barn and where did they come from? If they had been there the entire time, why didn’t they just come after them when his team was destroying the lab?
Their words about someone wanting him alive made Logan think that they knew he would be there. That raised a whole other set of questions, primarily, did they have a leak somewhere in The Boys Club?
As the first recruit into the program, Logan watched the organization grow from the start. The Boys Club started the day Jim Schaffer terminated his twenty-year career with the FBI. Schaffer had made a lot of friends during his tenure with the government, people who wanted to see injustices made right, but couldn’t always do it the legal way.
Before he recruited Logan, Schaffer purchased a rundown, massive Catholic church and renovated it to suit the organization’s needs. One of the earlier kids who came through the program coined the name “The Boys Club.” Some of the boys left after a few years to pursue their own law-abiding lives. Others, like Logan, were lifers, the ones that Schaffer intended to help run the place when he no longer could.
Logan spent the last of his teenage years growing up with some of the men who still worked for The Boys Club, most of which he considered brothers rather than friends. The idea that one of the men could betray Schaffer and their group was too much for Logan to consider.
Allie came back into the room, wheeling a stainless steel tray filled with medical supplies. They went through the same routine every time he returned from a job in less than pristine condition. Logan pressed a cold pack to his shoulder while Allie gathered her long, golden blonde hair into a ponytail. As she tended to various wounds on his face and torso, Logan kept himself occupied thinking about the job and who could possibly want him alive. Only one name came to mind, but with that name came a rush of bad memories.
“Alright,” Allie said. “Take off those jeans and let’s have a look at the rest of you.”
He slid off the gurney and to his feet. “I think you’re just saying that to get me naked.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
He laughed and worked on getting his jeans off. Whenever his hand touched his hip, he groaned with pain.
“What is it now?” Allie asked, as she put on a fresh pair of latex gloves.
“My hip’s just a little sore,” he said, stepping out of his jeans. “No big deal.”
“Whenever you have a physical reaction to pain, it is a big deal. Which hip is it?”
“The left one, but like I said it’s… ouch!” He jumped back when she tugged down the side of his boxers and touched his hip.
“That ‘no big deal’ needs stitches.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“Hop back up on the table.”
“I’m never getting out of here tonight,” he said. He lay down again, with his left side toward the outside of the table. “Next time I’m not saying anything about any pain. I think you were just looking for a way to operate on me. If you can’t get to my shoulder, you’ll settle for stitches.”
Allie rolled her eyes and moved her tray closer to his hip. “Or maybe it’s your track record with stitches that made me grab the necessary supplies just in case.” She laid two syringes down on the table next to him.
“Whoa, wait a minute. What are those for?”
“Antibiotics and lidocaine.”
“I just had a shot with antibiotics last month.”
“And yet here you are, getting cut up in a rusty old barn again. Every time you do that, you get another good dose of antibiotics. You’re just lucky you’re up-to-date on your tetanus booster or there would be three syringes here.” She pouted at him. “Did you want me to hold your hand? I can always give you a lollipop when we’re done.”
“Funny,” he said.
“Never did get that. Big, strong guy like you scared of a little needl
e.”
“Just hurry it up.”
She wiped the skin on his upper arm with an alcohol swab and took the cap off the first needle. It punctured his skin and he grimaced as the medication burned through his arm. The next one didn’t hurt quite as bad, but he groaned anyway to try and make her feel bad for sticking him.
She set the used syringes back on the tray and prepared a third syringe.
“What’s that one for?” Logan asked. “And why did you put the lidocaine in my arm when you’re stitching up my hip?”
“Oh, I was mistaken.” She held up the new syringe. “This one is lidocaine. The other must have been morphine.” She shrugged with a playful grin. “Sorry!”
“You’re the worst doctor ever. I told you no pain meds.”
She patted his arm. “You’ll thank me later.”
After she administered the lidocaine and started stitching him up, the morphine kicked in and gave him a bit of reprieve from all his aches and pains. He always gave Allie such a hard time as a patient, even though she had his best intentions in mind.
Once she finished stitching, she covered up the wound with a bandage. Taking off her gloves, she said, “All done. The bandage is waterproof. I’ll want to see you back here tomorrow to check on the stitches and re-bandage you.” She handed him a navy blue sling. “Put this on in the morning and wear it until I tell you otherwise.”
“Yes, doctor,” he said, sliding off the gurney once more. “Am I your last patient tonight?”
“You are. Are you staying here overnight?”
“Sure am.” Whenever any of the men returned from a job, they stayed at least one night at the Church, mainly for debriefing and any medical attention. After they were released, they went to their own homes until the next job came in. Allie, however, always went home after her workday ended.
“I was hoping you could come over to my place tonight,” she said.
He moved closer to her and slipped his hands around her waist. “Why don’t you stay here with me instead?”
She laughed and shook her head. “Schaffer would never go for that one.”
“He’d never find out.” Logan lowered her head and touched his lips to hers. “He’s long gone and won’t be back until the morning. We’ll sneak you out before then.”
She smiled and gave him another kiss.
As he gathered up his clothes and followed her down the hall to his room for the night, the guilt over sleeping with Allie once again gnawed at him. He knew it made him quite the jerk to take advantage of her feelings for him, but she also knew what she was getting into from the start. One more night together wouldn’t hurt anyone.
Chapter Three
The numbers on the computer screen blurred until they doubled and ran together in an indecipherable mess. Sara Langston lowered her head into her hands and rubbed her temples. She had been working on the account for hours and had found nothing to help solve her ongoing mystery. At well past 3 a.m., answers were not coming anytime soon.
A noise from behind her snagged her attention and she whirled around in her office chair. Stephen Mathers stumbled into the room, yawning and wearing only black boxer shorts. “When are you coming to bed, babe?”
“In just a few minutes.”
“That’s what you said two hours ago.” He wandered over to her, leaned over, and gave her a quick kiss. “We have too much happening in the next few days for you to keep late nights.”
Sara looked him over, but kept her thoughts about the big events to herself. In less than two days, they would take their vows and pronounce their love in front of almost 800 people, a love she had yet to experience. She was still unsure if Stephen loved her. He acted like he did, but she figured he could fake those emotions, the same as she.
Neither of them chose their relationship. Her father pushed it on them so that one day they would marry and she would give birth to a boy who would eventually take over his empire, after Stephen had his turn at the reins. Stephen, as most men, would definitely marry someone he didn’t love for that opportunity, but it didn’t stop him from pretending.
She rotated her chair to face the computer again. “I wanted to finish up some work before we leave on our honeymoon, that’s all.”
His hands landed on her shoulders and kneaded her muscles through her cotton top. “There’s nothing that can’t wait until we get back,” he said. “Isn’t Mary picking you up in a few hours to finalize arrangements for the wedding?”
Sara’s eyelids fell, part at his slow massage and part at the anxiety growing in the pit of her stomach. “Mary will be here at ten.”
He leaned over her shoulder and stared at the computer monitor. “What are you working on that can’t wait?”
“Just this mystery account. I can’t figure it out. There are all of these crisscrosses of deposits and withdrawals between every account, and yet they’re all tied to this account in some way or another. Then there are the discrepancies I found between the statements and the books. I’ve asked Dad for the information several times, but he always tells me to talk to Daryl, and he sends me to someone else, and down the line. No one seems to know what I’m talking about.” She turned back around to face Stephen. “How am I supposed to do accounting for Dad’s company if I keep getting the runaround?”
Stephen knelt down in front of her. “I’m sure you’re not getting the runaround. You’re only doing the books for one of his companies and you know he moves things around from business to business all the time, even though you tell him not to. It’s got to be a misunderstanding, that’s all.” He tucked some stray curls behind her ear. “Why don’t you come to bed? It’s so late that you’re not thinking clearly.”
“I would love to, but I feel like I’m on the verge of figuring this out. If I can just work on it for another hour, I’m sure that—”
“You’re tired, Sara. Come to bed.”
She smiled, despite her desire to keep working on the accounts. “You’re right,” she said. “I’m too tired to finish this tonight.”
He slid his hands up the outsides of her thighs, making his way up to her hips. “If you want to stay up and work, I’m sure we can find something much better for us to work on together.”
Though not in the mood for a late night encounter, she wrapped her hands around his neck and leaned over for a kiss.
“That’s better,” he said, accepting her kiss.
She ran her hands through his disheveled, dark hair, enjoying his kiss far more than she wanted. Though she hated the idea of spending her life with someone just to appease her father, he could have picked out someone worse for her than Stephen. She may not love him yet, but she was learning.
He broke away from her and grinned. Taking her hand, he pulled her out of the chair and led her out of her office, toward the stairs. “Listen, Sara, I know it’s not the time to talk about it, but when we come back from our honeymoon, I want you to reconsider teaching at West Hills Academy. You have a job there whenever you want it and then you won’t have to pull late nights or worry about your father’s accounts. I think it would be a much better job for you, especially when we start a family.”
Sara’s mood soured again. Everyone seemed to know what was best for her, and between her father and Stephen, her whole life was planned. Even if she didn’t want to teach at the academy, she had a feeling that within a few months of returning from their honeymoon, she would end up working there. She wanted to tell Stephen the career change was out of the question, but telling him that was the same thing as telling her father, who had also been on her about taking the teaching position.
Stephen stopped walking at the bottom of the stairs and turned to face her. “Besides, when your father retires, you don’t want to work for me, do you? I wouldn’t want our marriage to fall victim to us working together.” He fingered a chunk of hair in front of her ear. “You know you could always stop working altogether. We don’t need the money and I’m sure you can find lots of other things to keep you busy.”<
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The newest push, Sara thought. He had only brought up the idea of her staying home once before and she had hoped he wouldn’t remember. Now that he had said it again, she wondered if it his new goal was to have her as a stay-at-home wife and mom where he could better keep her under his thumb.
Too tired to disagree at the moment, she gave him a strained smile and nodded. “We’ll talk about it when we come back from the honeymoon.”
His palm cupped her cheek. “I’m so glad to hear that.” His mouth claimed hers again.
Sara fell into his kiss and tried to ignore all the same old concerns about marrying Stephen flooding her mind.
Chapter Four
“Doctor Connors!”
Jim Schaffer’s voice thundered through the room, making Logan jump straight up in bed.
“I won’t embarrass either of you by turning on the light,” Schaffer continued, “but I want you both fully dressed and in the hallway in the next two minutes.”
After the door shut, Allie sat up, the blanket covering her bare chest. “I suppose I’ve just lost my job.”
Logan lifted his hand to her cheek. “No, you haven’t. I’ll make sure of it.” He kissed her gently and said, “We better not push it, though. Time to pay the piper.”
They rushed through getting dressed and moved to the door. Before she could open it, he scooped her close and kissed her again. “Whatever he says, don’t worry. You’ll still have a job in the morning. I promise.”
Her eyebrows shot up and she glared at him with a flash of despair in her eyes. “I better.”
“You will. It’s my fault you stayed here.”
“Damn right it is.”
He stared into her eyes, his own narrowed with concern. “I’m sorry, Allie.”
“I know you are.” She lifted herself onto her tiptoes and gave him one last passionate kiss.
Logan reached around her and opened the door. They walked outside, an angry Schaffer leaning against the wall across from the door. Logan turned to Allie, who kept her eyes down to the tiles.