by A. M. Myers
I hate feeling like the fool. It’s the way Adam made me feel when he cheated on me, and it’s the way I feel now that Logan has seemingly dropped out of my life. God, how could I be such an idiot? He has trouble written all over him but I ignored that, dismissed my better judgment because the connection we have is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. But that doesn’t matter anymore. I promised myself that I’d never let a man put me in a position to hurt me again, and I shouldn’t have abandoned that at the first captivating set of eyes and rock hard abs.
Marching up the stairs to his porch, I suck in a breath and pause for just a moment before I start banging on the door. I can hear him moving around on the other side of the door, and his boots sound against the floor as he approaches the door. Silence descends over me for a moment, and then the footsteps start moving away from the door. Is he seriously not going to answer? I pound my fist against the door again, getting angrier and angrier the longer I wait out here.
“Logan!” I yell, not caring one bit that the whole damn neighborhood can hear me. “Open the door.”
Silence.
I pound again, some of my fight draining out of me as I realize that he’s really not going to answer the door. Well, I guess this tells me everything that I need to know, doesn’t it?
I knock one more time, my voice breaking as I say, “Logan. Please.”
Still nothing and I back away from the door with tears in my eyes. This is so stupid. I just met this man. I shouldn’t be crying over the loss of him but as I turn and start walking back to my house, I do cry. Peeking over my shoulder, I take one last look at the house but I’m not seeing the house anymore - I’m seeing the day we met. I’m seeing future Friday nights cuddled up on the couch as we watch movies and birthday dinners that I spent all day making. I’m seeing his lazy smile as he rolls over in the morning and pulls me into his arms. I’m seeing all the possibilities that I imagined for us that will never happen.
I’m such a stupid girl, and I got so ahead of myself but it just felt right with him. I put so much faith in that feeling – that contentment that seemed to settle into my soul when I met him. As I walk back into my house, I feel absolutely deflated but I’ve got to put on a brave face and go out to dinner with the girls.
I drag myself to the bathroom, turning on the water before undressing and tossing my clothes in a pile on the floor. Steam fills the room, and I step under the hot water, the tears falling already. It’s safe here. I can cry and no one will ever know as the water washes my pain away. I swipe angrily at my eyes, hating that I let him get to me like this. And the short amount of time that he was able to get to me makes it even worse. It’s a vicious cycle of pain and anger as I scrub my body clean, wishing I could rinse him from my heart and mind so easily.
When I’m done, I step out and secure the towel around my body as I throw another one on my head and go into my bedroom. I plop down on the edge of the bed and sigh. I’m over this. He obviously didn’t even care enough to open the damn door and talk to me so I’m done crying over him. I’ll go back to the way it was before. I’ll focus on my work, and I’ll be fine. And maybe one day, I’ll find someone who won’t cast me aside so easily. A man who will give anything to be with me and will be worthy of all I have to offer him. I’m constantly giving readers this same advice so why aren’t I taking it myself?
With new resolve, I stand and start getting ready for dinner, doing my hair and make-up before grabbing a dress from my closet. Once I’m dressed, I go to my dresser and look through my necklaces, trying to find the one my grandmother gave me. I don’t find it on my first pass of my jewelry so I look again, growing panicked when I can’t find it. My hand goes to my throat, and I check to make sure I’m not wearing it as I run into the bathroom and check there. When I don’t find it in the bathroom, I run back out to my bedroom, ready to pull the dresser out but my phone buzzes on the nightstand, stopping me. Sighing, I grab it.
Izzy:
Leaving now.
Carly:
OMW
Sighing again, I look over at the dresser and make a point to search for the necklace when I get home tonight. But right now, I’ve got to get to my girls. I grab my purse and force a smile to my face as I push down anything that will keep me from having a good time with my friends.
* * * *
“We’ll take three martinis, please,” Izzy says to the waiter.
“Martinis tonight? Looking to get trashed?” Carly asks her as he walks away, and Izzy points to me.
“Home girl looks like she could use something a little stronger.”
I let out a curt laugh and cross my arms over my chest. “Do I really look that bad?”
“You look gorgeous but sad,” Izzy says, trying to soften the blow, and I sigh. “What’s going on?”
“Things are, uh…over with Logan,” I say, looking down at my dress and pretending to pick some lint off.
Carly gasps. “What?”
“Since when?” Izzy asks, her eyes narrowing in my direction.
“Today.”
Carly shakes her head and takes a sip of water. “No, that doesn’t make any sense. I saw the way he was looking at you the other day. Why would he end things?”
“I ended it.”
They both give me sympathetic looks, and I’m really starting to hate it. I feel like all I’ve gotten from people in the last couple days is sympathy. It would be amazing if I could just go back to a few days ago before someone broke into my house and turned my world upside down.
“Why would you end it? I thought you were really into him,” Carly says, and I sigh just as the waiter brings our drinks to the table. I take a sip before setting it back down and looking up at them.
“I was. I am. But I’m not into the games, you know? One minute he’s there, telling me he wants to be with me, and then he disappears for days at a time without a word. I went over to his house today, and he refused to even come talk to me.”
“Maybe he wasn’t home,” Carly suggests, and I love her optimism and wish that were the case.
“I watched him come home, and when I knocked on the door, I could hear him walking up to the door but he never opened it and he never said a word.”
Carly looks over to Izzy, who’s staring at me with a faraway look in her eyes, and I can’t help but wonder what’s going on in her head.
“There’s got to be some kind of explanation, right?” Carly asks, and I shake my head.
“Maybe there is, Hon. But look at me. It’s only been three weeks and I’m feeling like this? Better to just bail out now before I do something stupid like fall in love with him.”
Izzy clears her throat, and I glance over at her as she takes a big gulp of her martini. “You sure it’s not already too late?”
Sighing, I mimic her gulp with the martini and shrug. “Not really but the longer I invest in this, the harder it will be when it falls apart.”
“Who says it’s going to fall apart?” Carly asks, and I shoot her a look.
“He’s hiding out in his house and refusing to talk to me. There’s no way that this can go anywhere but down.”
Carly shoots me a look of annoyance. “You always do this, Ali. I get that Adam hurt you badly but Logan is nothing like Adam. I’ve never seen a man look at a woman the way Logan looks at you, and I would do anything to have someone look at me like that.”
“Sweetie, someone broke into my house and his first reaction was to call me a slut, and then he just up and left me with the detective without saying a word. And I still haven’t heard from him four days later. These are not the actions of a man who has any feelings at all.”
She huffs, her annoyance with me growing. “I don’t know why he left, and I don’t know why he hasn’t spoken to you since then but he can’t hide the look he gives you. He can force himself to stay away but his eyes give him away anytime you’re in the room.”
“Okay, back to your corners, Ladies,” Izzy says, and I sigh, taking a sip of my drink as I
glance over at Carly. She avoids my gaze, and I hate it.
“I’m sorry. I just can’t invest any more in this if I’m the only one doing it. It’s really only been three weeks since I met him, and I got a little too caught up in the idea of a relationship with him but when you look at the reality, it’s not as pretty.”
“Did you see his face when you got to the house on Monday? He looked like once he saw you he could finally breathe again. How can you doubt that?”
“Then where is he, Carly? Why has my phone not gone off one time with a text from him since Monday? Why did he purposefully ignore me when I knocked on his door? Maybe he does feel something for me but not enough to make an effort.”
“I don’t know,” she snaps, crossing her arms over her chest and looking away from me. This is so unlike her, and I glance over at Izzy, who shrugs in return.
“Are you okay, Car? This really isn’t like you,” Izzy points out, and Carly sighs, dropping her gaze down to the tablecloth.
“Until I met you guys, I always felt like I was too much for people. I’d meet friends and take to them much faster than they did me, and I’d want to hang out more than they did. It’s the same with guys. I want someone that’s going to look at me the way Logan was looking at Ali. Like I light up their whole world.”
My heart squeezes in my chest, and I reach out, grabbing on to her hand. “You’re going to find it someday, Carly. You’re too good not to, and those other bitches have no idea the great friend that they are missing out on. We’re lucky to have you.”
“Oh, Jesus, do not make me cry in public,” Izzy snaps, dabbing at her eyes, and we both start laughing at her, the tension melting away.
“I’m sorry for snapping at you,” Carly says, and I shake my head.
“Don’t mention it. It’s already forgotten.”
Chapter Twenty
Storm
I watch her in the window as she walks away from my house, each step she takes is like a hit to the chest, and every part of me wants to fling the door open and yell at her to come back. But I can’t. This whole thing moved so damn fast, and each time I see her, it’s like I’m sucker punched by all the feelings she stirs up in me. I wasn’t ready for this, ready for her, and I haven’t handled any of this right. None of that matters anymore though. She’s mine. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her.
Bear whines, and I glance down at him. “Yeah, I know, Buddy. I miss her, too.”
I fucking hate that I can’t be with her right now but I’ve got shit that needs to be dealt with before I can be with her. If I just threw caution to the wind and did exactly what I’m dying to do right now, her life would be in danger, and that’s not something I’m even remotely willing to sacrifice. Not again. I watch her until she disappears into her house, and the dejected look on her gorgeous face breaks my fucking heart. I just need her to hold on for a little bit, and then I’ll give her everything she wants.
Moving away from the window, I grab my phone off the table and slip my cut on before stalking out to my bike. I’m jittery as I climb on, ready to end this shit. Straddling the bike, I check my messages.
Ray:
Meet you in the usual spot.
I shove my phone back in my pocket and fire up my bike before pulling out onto the street. My gaze lingers on Ali’s house as I drive by, and I promise her that I’ll be seeing her soon. The wind whips against my skin as I drive west out of town, the sun sinking into the horizon in front of me. I imagine bringing Ali out on the bike, her arms wrapping around me from behind, and I grin. I’ve never had someone on the back of my bike, and I’m looking forward to it.
After riding for a few miles, I turn onto the dirt road, only slowing when I approach the edge of the river. Ray climbs out of his truck as I turn my bike off and get off.
“Hey, man, good to hear from you,” he says, slapping my hand and pulling me in for a half hug. I laugh.
“No, it’s not. No one calls you when it’s good news.”
He puts a cigarette in his mouth and lights it, nodding. “Well, you’re right about that. So, what’s up?”
Running my hand over my hair, I look out over the river. “Your friend, Shaun, still doin’ time?”
“Yeah.”
“He still in the Pen?”
I glance over at him and he nods as he draws on his cigarette. “Sure is. This the same thing as last time?”
“He’s got someone following me. Following my girl, too, and someone broke into her house earlier this week but didn’t steal anything.”
He nods, pulling out a notepad like the cops use. “What’s his name again?”
“Ian Blackwell.”
“And what’s he doing time for?”
I suck in a breath, turning back to the river. “Murder.”
“How bad you want him hurt?”
What a loaded question. I would love it if he were just as dead as the woman he killed but Blaze’s voice sounds in my head, reminding me that we aren’t the bad guys and we can’t act like thugs.
“Bad enough to drive the point home. He calls off his brother and stays the hell away from me and my girl.”
He finishes scribbling something and tucks the notebook back into his pocket before slapping me on my shoulder. “I’ll call you when it’s done.”
* * * *
“Church in five,” Blaze calls just as I walk in the door, and everyone nods at him before turning back to what they were doing before. I slide onto a barstool next to Chance and nod at Teresa when she sets a beer down in front of me.
“Well, don’t you look fucking chipper,” Chance says, and I laugh, almost choking on my beer.
“That a bad thing?”
He shakes his head and takes a sip of his own beer. “Suppose not. Just different.”
He’s right; it is different. For the past six years, I’ve had a dark cloud hanging over me, and it was visible to everyone, but not anymore.
“You just got over it like that, huh?”
“Naw, man. I didn’t just get over it but Ali, she makes it all easier, you know. Gave me a reason to smile again.”
He snorts and nods. “Yeah, okay. Don’t go getting all sappy on me.”
“Shut the fuck up, dude.”
“Hey, Storm,” Smith calls from the back corner of the clubhouse where he and Moose are playing pool.
“What?”
“You and that neighbor of yours serious?”
Red-hot rage blinds my vision as I think about him putting his hands on her. Brother or not, that shit is not happening. Possessiveness wells up inside me, and I stand, slamming my beer bottle down on the bar.
“She’s fucking off limits.”
Everyone grows quiet, all eyes trained on me. “You claimin’ her, then? Officially?”
“You’re damn right I am.”
Kodiak laughs and jumps up from the couch, slapping me on the shoulder. “Well, it’s about damn time.”
“Church,” Blaze calls from the doorway, a knowing smile on his face as I pass him and take my seat at the table. Everyone else files in and fills the rest of the table as Blaze goes to the head of the table and bangs the gavel.
“All right, let’s get down to business. Kodiak and Smith, what do you have from Ali’s house?”
“Honestly, boss, not a whole lot,” Kodiak says, and Smith nods in agreement, only increasing my suspicions about what really happened.
“The back door looks like it’s been jimmied quite a few times so it’s impossible to say how many times this guy has been in there. That alone rules out the possibility of this being an attempted robbery,” Smith adds, and I shift in my seat. I don’t like the fucking sound of this at all.
“And nothing was taken?” Blaze asks, and Kodiak and Smith share a look.
“Possibly some panties but there’s no way to know for sure.”
“Ali said her bed was made when she left that morning, and it was messed up when we were there like someone had been lying in it,” I say, and t
hey all turn to me. This feels so familiar, and it turns my stomach just thinking about it.
“Sounds like she’s got a stalker,” Fuzz says, and my heart drops.
“It’s Ian’s brother.”
Everyone turns to look at me except for Streak, who just nods in agreement. I glance over at Blaze, and he’s studying me. “How do you know this?”
“Had Streak look into him. I never even realized that Ian had a twin brother but it makes sense with the pictures that have been left on my doorstep.”
He stares at me for a moment longer before turning to the other guys around the table. “We should put a guard on her.”
“That’s not necessary. I’m already taking care of it.”
Blaze turns his focus back to me. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means I’ve got a guy taking care of it.”
He slams his fist onto the table, and everyone falls quiet. “I fucking told you not to do anything.”
“Honestly, Prez, with Storm claimin’ her, it might be the best way to go,” Smith says, playing his part as sergeant at arms. “It’s been a long ass time since we’ve had to worry about protecting an old lady, and we don’t want to set a precedent with this.”
I look to the back of the table where our two older members, Red and Earl, sit. They are the only ones with old ladies anymore so it’s not something Blaze has had to worry about in a while.
“We can’t just go around killing people. That’s part of the reason we got in that mess six years ago.”
“I’m not killing him,” I say, knowing that will in no way pacify Blaze.
He turns to me and sighs, running a hand over his face. “And if he doesn’t get the message?”
“Then we’ll be having this conversation again.”