by Angie Martin
Schaffer crossed his arms and stared Allie down. “Doctor Connors, did your house get foreclosed on yesterday?”
Allie hung her head low. “No, sir.”
“Gas leak? A fire?”
She squirmed and clasped her hands in front her waist. “No, sir.” Her quiet voice wavered, as if on the verge of tears.
“Anything else that prevented you from returning home after your shift last night?”
“Schaffer, don’t,” Logan said.
Schaffer turned to Logan and held up his hand. “I’ll deal with you in a moment.” Looking back at Allie, he asked, “Well?”
“No, sir.”
“Then I suppose since you have no reason to be here, you should be home right now.” He took a few steps toward her and lowered his voice. “What the hell are you thinking sleeping with Logan? You have to know he’s 15 ways messed up.”
Logan glared at him, but couldn’t find a good argument against what he said.
“You may be a damn good doctor,” Schaffer continued, “but you’d make a horrible psychiatrist. Go on home.”
“Yes, sir.” She started down the hall, but stopped when Schaffer spoke again.
“Doctor Connors, I’ll expect to see you in my office at 9 a.m. sharp. We still need to discuss the repercussions from this violation of your contract.”
“Yes, sir,” she said without turning around, and then continued down the hall.
Once she turned the corner, Logan looked at Schaffer. “You don’t have to talk to her like a criminal. She didn’t do anything wrong.”
“What was the one rule I had when I brought her on? The only rule that I made more than clear to all of you before I hired a female to work here?”
His turn to be punished, Logan lowered his eyes and his voice, like a child in trouble with his father. “No fraternization.”
“There are reasons for that,” Schaffer said. “I don’t need any of you distracted while you’re here. You were the last person I expected to break that rule.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Don’t act like this was a one-time deal. I’ve held my tongue for over two weeks now and I’m sure you’ve been with her longer than that. Since you two were keeping it quiet, I didn’t say anything, but when you bring it here…” He sighed. “Come on, Logan. I have to draw the line somewhere, even with you.”
Logan folded his arms and locked eyes with his longtime friend, mentor, and boss. “Yeah, I suppose you do and I’m sorry.”
“It’s not me you should apologize to. What the hell are you doing to that poor girl? You must know she’s in love with you.”
He did know. There was no misunderstanding that point. She had even told him again tonight, as if expecting his feelings to have changed.
“I know she is,” he said. Saying it aloud to someone else brought on a wave of self-loathing and disgust over his actions.
“Ah hell, Logan. That makes it even worse.”
“It won’t happen again.”
“You’re damn right it won’t. If it does, I’m putting her on a two-month suspension.”
“You can’t—”
“She’s getting off easy. You’ll have a six-month suspension with mandatory psych visits.”
“That’s not right.”
“Yes, it is. It’s the only thing I’ll have done right since I let you come back so soon after Karen died. Either get yourself together or I’ll force you to.”
Logan balled his fists at his sides and suppressed his anger. Nothing Schaffer said was wrong and Logan knew he deserved every ounce of that punishment now, despite only getting a warning.
Schaffer leaned against the wall again. “You know I started this organization to help you boys, not to screw your lives up completely. Most days I wonder if I’ve failed in that mission, especially where you’re concerned.”
Logan raised his eyes to Schaffer’s worn face. The mass of wrinkles around his tired blue eyes told the tale of his life. Every single strand in the mess of gray hair came from either Logan or one of the other boys Schaffer brought onto the program. Though most of them were men now, all of them ranging in age from 24 to 35, save one new 17-year old recruit, Schaffer would always view them as his boys. The thought of disappointing him weighed heavily on Logan.
“You haven’t failed us,” Logan told Schaffer. “You brought all of us out of the life of failure we were already living. If anything, I’ve failed you.”
Schaffer stared at him, but Logan could not read his expression. “From here on out your relationship with Doctor Connors is strictly patient-doctor. Unless you love her. Since that’s not the case, we won’t need to have that discussion anytime soon.” He pushed off from the wall. “Get some sleep. In the morning, you’ll be debriefed and go home. Take a couple weeks off to get your head together. I won’t put you on a job before then.”
Logan nodded. “Thank you.” He went back to his room, exhausted and embarrassed. He had failed not only Schaffer, but Allie. Somehow, he’d have to find a way to make it right.
Chapter Five
Logan woke in a mess of tangled sheets and damp pillowcases. He wiped the cold sweat from the back of his neck and the fatigue from his eyes. Making his way to the bathroom to clean up, he yawned and rubbed his chin, the growth a few days past a reasonable stubble length and a cruel reminder of how little he cared anymore.
After returning to bed earlier in the morning and smelling Allie on the sheets, he tossed and turned over his bad decisions and the effect they had on others. He didn’t know what possessed him to sleep with Allie at the Church after months of being careful and meeting at her house. He assumed on some level he had a desperate need to get caught. If he couldn’t stop sleeping with her on his own, Schaffer would force cessation on them both.
Sleep finally greeted him with another nightmare about Karen. The dreams had grown infrequent over time, but every so often one found him and choked out his desire to keep going in life. This one had been no different, as he watched her death unfold before him with her in his ear, telling him all the reasons why it was his fault.
When he met Karen six years ago, life took on new meaning for him. He proposed marriage a year later, married her a year after that, and left The Boys Club for a life of happiness. Schaffer found him a legitimate job on a road construction crew and everyone expected him to be gone forever.
At the time, he did not know that Hugh Langston, a man he had undermined and crossed many times over the years, had uncovered his identity. Langston took out a contract on Logan, resulting in a car bomb gone wrong.
Almost two years into their marriage and six months pregnant, Karen postponed a trip to visit her parents due to a nasty bout of nausea. She spent the morning throwing up, and Logan convinced her to go see the doctor.
Logan walked her to the car, which sat in the middle of their driveway, since boxes from their recent move filled the garage. He ran back into the house to get his wallet while she started the engine. He went back outside to a smoke-filled car and his wife screaming in pain. Then he saw the flames. A second later, the car exploded, throwing Logan back into the house through the open door.
A bomb intended to explode upon turning the ignition key and instantly kill Logan did not perform its designed function. Investigators believed the smoke started first, confusing Karen so she couldn’t find the seatbelt latch or the door handle. The fire started soon after that, searing her skin for a full minute before Logan came back outside.
Since that day, Logan had often tortured himself by watching the clock as a grueling minute ticked by, wondering what she thought about while her skin bubbled and boiled under the intense flames. He wondered if she blamed him, if she thought he abandoned her while she died, if she worried for the baby, or if the pain denied her any coherent thoughts. Had he been in the car with her, he could have found the door handle for her and pushed her to safety, giving her time to escape before the bomb finally did its job.
Logan rushed through a shower and shave, after which he threw on an old pair of jeans, black T-shirt, and his sneakers. He secured the sling Allie gave him over his bad shoulder. He would take it off when he got home, but did not want to get called out on his way out of the building. With his duffel bag slung over his good shoulder, he took one last look around the room to make sure he had not forgotten anything. Pain stabbed his heart when he caught sight of the bed and he hoped Allie was okay.
Heading down the hall to the elevator so he could get to his debrief and hurry home to his small apartment, Logan heard a commotion overhead. When he reached the first floor, almost everyone who worked at The Boys Club was gathered in the main lobby.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Jack asked, as he walked up to Logan.
“To my debrief and then home for a couple weeks, which is exactly where you should be going.” Logan gestured to the sling on his arm. “I have a few injuries to take care of.”
“Funny how you were the only one on the whole team who was injured,” Jack said with a laugh. “But we’re not going home anytime soon. Schaffer called everyone in for this job. I’m surprised you didn’t get the memo.”
Logan glanced around the room and saw the other members from last night’s team with their own bags in their hands. It appeared as if they also thought they were going home for some time off between jobs, but got stuck here like he had.
“What are we waiting for?” Logan asked Jack.
A loud click sounded through the lobby and men started moving toward the main doors.
“That,” Jack said. He turned to file in after the others.
Logan followed suit, walking with the last of the group down the long hallway that led to the main chapel. Though the pews had been replaced by chairs and the Catholic artifacts donated back to the diocese, the stained glass windows remained. Sunlight filtered through the colorful scenes of Jesus, Mary, angels, and saints. Logan wondered if Schaffer left them in place to give the boys a sense of calm when entering the chapel, like the one that came over Logan now.
He found a chair toward the center of the chapel next to Jack and set his bag down on his lap. His eyes landed on the empty podium at the front of the room where Schaffer usually stood to brief them on a new job. A large white screen filled the majority of the back wall, where pictures related to the job would be displayed. After the job was announced, the assigned leader picked his team and planning began. Yet in all his years working for The Boys Club, Logan had never seen the chapel so full, which made him all the more curious about the job.
Schaffer came through a side door with a file in his hand, followed by his assistant, Kyle, and Allie. Logan watched him step up to the podium. Kyle went to the projector and plugged in a laptop, while Allie settled into a chair to the left of the podium. Logan made eye contact with her for a brief moment before Schaffer called for everyone to settle down.
“I know you are curious why so many of you are here this morning,” Schaffer said into a microphone. “Right now we have three teams in the field, but everyone who isn’t active on a job is here in this room. A new job came across my desk an hour ago, one that will require three teams. Even though it’s the biggest job we’ve ever done, we have only 24 hours to plan it.”
Murmurs came from the all over the room and Logan frowned. How did Schaffer expect them to plan such a large job in such a short time? He was grateful that he had just returned from a job. The chances of getting stuck on another job so soon after finishing his last one were slim, especially since he had been injured.
Schaffer’s voice boomed across the room again, silencing the whispers. “I know it seems impossible, but we have to get it done. A life is at stake, so we don’t have a choice.” His eyes roamed around the room until they landed on Logan. “I’m putting Logan in charge of this one.”
Logan’s lips parted in surprise as the others turned their heads until their eyes fell on him. A few strong whispers came from around him, expressing outrage over Schaffer’s decision.
“With all due respect,” Logan said, “I’m not ready for another job. I just returned last night and with my shoulder and the stitches, I don’t know if I’m able to take on such a huge job so soon.”
His words shut up the rest of the group, who turned to Schaffer for his response.
“I wondered that myself, but I reviewed Doctor Connors’s report and she’s cleared you for duty.” Schaffer held his hands up at the start of the protests from the others. “I would much rather have someone who is rested, but I think when you hear about the job you will all agree with me that this one needs to go to Logan.”
Anxiety knotted in Logan’s stomach. “What’s the job?” he asked.
“Hugh Langston.”
Gasps came up from around the room and some men turned to look at Logan, who had tightened his jaw at the sound of that name. He was certain the other men no longer objected to his taking charge of the job, not when it involved the man who had killed his wife and unborn child.
“Are we taking him down?” Logan asked.
“Not exactly. He’s taken out a hit on someone and we need to stop it before it happens next week. She’ll be the one to take him down.”
“Who’s the target?” Jack called out from beside Logan.
Schaffer locked eyes with Logan. “His daughter, Sara.”
Chapter Six
Sara rolled over in bed and reached for Stephen. They had decided to sleep in, and she sent Mary a text earlier in the morning to delay their plans. With the wedding racing toward her at light-speed, she welcomed the opportunity to be lazy for a change.
Watching Stephen sleep, listening to his soft snores, she wondered once again what marriage would change between them. They had lived together for three months, ever since her father insisted on buying them an early wedding present in the form of the immodestly large home, staffed with maids, a personal chef, and gardening crew. She hated the obnoxious display of money, but he claimed he wanted to spoil his only child, especially since they had lost so much time together.
He had missed out on the first twelve years of her life, mainly because her mother had been his mistress and not his wife. When her mother passed away from cancer, he took Sara into the fold as if she had always been a welcome child. Sara, however, knew that if her mother had not died, she would still not know her father.
After Stephen became her father’s right-hand man, her father encouraged them to date. Even when she told her father that she didn’t think things were going anywhere with Stephen, he pushed their relationship, convincing her time and again to give him one more chance.
She continued dating him to keep her father happy, but it didn’t take long for her to figure out his motivations. Her father wanted them to marry so Stephen would become his legitimate heir. Then they would have a child, a boy if her father got his way, and another heir would be in place. The arrangement had nothing to do with her happiness. She would be taken care of for the rest of her life, as long as she gave her father what he wanted.
When they moved in together, she fell into a comfortable routine with Stephen. Sometimes she believed she loved him, but other times she regarded her feelings for him as forced. Stephen always told her that he loved her, and for the most part he acted like he did, but she never knew whether it was a ploy to stay in her good graces. Yet, he had a tendency to push her like her father did, to talk her into things she didn’t necessarily want. They were so much alike that it was hard to believe Stephen wasn’t on board with all of her father’s ideas. The rush to get married after dating for less than a year, the constant mention of starting a family, the push for her to take the teaching position. They played the same record to her all the time and just as she had given into their wishes for the wedding, she would do so with everything else.
Sara closed her eyes to tr
y to catch some more sleep rather than think about how out of control her life had become, when Stephen stirred beside her. He rolled over to face her and she greeted him with a good morning kiss.
Running his fingers through her hair, he asked, “What are your plans today?”
“Just boring old wedding stuff that wouldn’t interest you.”
“Of course our wedding interests me. It’s interested me since our first date.”
She grinned and her eyebrows shot up. “Really?”
“Yes, really.” He slid his hand under her and flipped her on her back. After her giggle died down, he became serious and ran his thumb over her lips. “I really do love you, Sara.” He lowered his mouth onto hers.
The little statements and gestures always made her think he did love her, and not just her father and his money. As he pulled the covers down from their bodies and lifted her top over her head, Sara told herself that it wouldn’t be so bad to live the rest of her life with him. She could learn to like it, maybe even love it.
Chapter Seven
“His daughter?”
Logan’s question echoed through the suddenly quiet chapel.
“Sara Langston,” Schaffer said. He used a small remote to bring the projector to life. A photograph of an attractive girl flashed on the screen behind him. “Langston had many mistresses over the years, but only one resulted in a pregnancy. Sara’s mother, Ruth Bennett, passed on his last name to Sara on the birth certificate. Of course Langston refused to have anything to do with his daughter, or even the mistress once she announced her pregnancy.”
Logan looked back to the woman on the screen, her windblown, shoulder-length russet curls captured by an unseen cameraman at the end of a zoom lens. With his connections to Hugh Langston he had heard mentions of his daughter in the past, but had never seen her picture before now. He recognized bits of Langston in her small, rounded nose and deep-set, brown eyes, but had he passed her on the street he wouldn’t have guessed their relation.