by Sofia Aves
Ashley. His tone grew hoarse as he spoke of her, and I truly believed that he must love his daughter. But his definition of love was worlds apart from mine. Everything he encountered, it seemed his emotions were heightened, skewed: Cal, Ashley, his heritage…me. We were his obsessions.
Logan kept talking. I focused on him, but in the back of my mind, I tried to work out where she was. Ashley had to be here, somewhere. I cursed myself for not asking before — would he hurt me if I asked now? My own fear became a backseat affair as I panicked about her.
And he blamed Cal for the loss of his child? Anger roared through me, five years of sleeplessness, nightmare, therapy, not being able to step outside my own door for fear he would see me...it raged in my chest, a storm of emotion that overrode the pain.
“But, you left her behind that day! You bloody drove off and left her! Do you have any idea how many foster homes she’s been in, how many sets of parents? I always wondered if you would come back to claim her, terrified of it, but you never did, you fucking bastard!” My voice hoarse, tearing at the edges, I punctuated the last word with a resounding slap across his face, then doubled over as the burst of rage left me, spent. I remembered who I was screaming at, what he could do to me, to the people behind me in this room that I loved, but the words wouldn’t stop.
I couldn’t straighten, so I looked up instead.
“You forgot her.”
His eyes flashed, the first emotion I had ever seen cross them. He gripped my jaw hard, dragging me up. I screamed with the movement, his fingers long enough they pressed against my cheeks and temple. He squeezed, just enough to make it painful, holding me so I couldn’t escape those dead eyes.
Logan leaned into me, taking up every inch of my space. My skin prickled, alarms screaming in my head as the numbness worked its way into my mind. I tried to wrench free of him, but he was everywhere. His mouth smashed against mine. I was so surprised I just stood there.
He drew back, fingers gentle on my skin. I froze in shock. What the hell had just happened? There was blood on his lips, and when I touched mine, they throbbed.
“You will make the most beautiful mother for our child. I knew I chose right in you, Mila. You are perfect for us.”
“What?”
He smiled, but there was no light in his hard eyes.
“I need a mother for Ashley, since hers so inconveniently died at the wrong time. You will fill that place. She trusts you, even loves you…though you chose the wrong man as a father figure for her.” Something cruel crossed his face, and he nodded. “Yes, there will be recompense for that. But still, you’ll make a fine mother.”
I gaped. He was madder than I thought.
“You’re a mad motherfucker,” Teddy groaned, rolling over. Heavy cuffs secured his arms. He patted his head with them. “He’ll kill you for that, you know,” he said conversationally, nodding toward me. “What the fuck did you shoot me with?”
“Horse tranquiliser.” Joey appeared in the doorway. “Less than your mate at the apartment. Three fucking shots.” He shook his head in awe, turning to his brother. “They’re here.”
Logan smiled, a truly terrible thing. Wait, they were here? Who? Hope blossomed in my heart but died in the same instant.
“The charges are set?”
“Yeah.”
“Then let’s move.” He towed me to the back door of the office that led into a secure alleyway behind the bank, where security would empty the deposit boxes and vault.
I shook my head, frantic, my eyes catching Teddy’s. He gave a small smile which rent my heart.
He was saying goodbye.
I screamed hoarsely, my throat tearing. Wrenching away from Logan, who watched in amusement, rage built in me, and I couldn’t stop screaming. Raspy, wretched shrieks that barely made any noise at all.
So much for grace under fire.
Though it felt like it nearly killed me, I turned to Joey, swinging as hard as I could. Pain shot up my arm, almost winding me, but I didn’t care if I had broken something else. He took a step back against the doorway, a hand to his jaw, glaring through narrowed eyes.
“You little–”
A blow caught him on the chin, and he dropped. I spun dizzily, thinking it was Cal, but Logan still observed me with those cold eyes.
“He shouldn’t have hurt you.”
He dragged me to the back door, shoving me through it. A black SUV stood a few meters away, idling. Through the open front door, I could see Ashley, bound and gagged, strapped into a too-small child’s restraint fitted to the backseat.
Tears tracked her puffy face, and I knew then I had to be stronger for her. The engine purred low, but it wasn’t the only vehicle in the alley. Blocking the end of the entire thing was an enormous blue truck, with an equally huge cop standing in front of it.
Micah.
My heart burst, and he gave a minute nod when he saw me. He raised a weapon I had never seen before, but it certainly matched the bulk of him and his truck. Anyone who could stand next to that thing and not be dwarfed was a giant indeed.
Logan stepped out the doorway behind me, his grip like iron on my arm. I wrenched at him, kicking and thrashing as much as I could without succumbing to the pain radiating across my chest, but he just laughed until he saw Micah — who aimed the weapon at us. I hoped if he fired it, it wouldn’t kill all of us. Then I remembered what Logan had said.
“He’s set explosives in the bank!”
I practically screeched the words down the alley. They bounced off the brick walls in tinny echoes, giving volume to my hoarse but forceful croak. Micah’s mouth moved, speaking into a small headset. My breath came easier, knowing the boys were here.
Now they knew what they were up against.
Logan clearly came to the same conclusion, yanking me back through the bank door. I stumbled and slammed into the ground. His pristine, leather shoe found the same rib his brother had snapped, and he pressed down, slowly, increasing the pressure every second. Darkness threatened my vision. I fought it, desperate not to pass out here with Logan standing over me.
A single figure filled the doorway of the office; tall and golden, weapon zeroed on Logan. An intensity I’d never seen filled Cal’s face, sending a zing of hope through me. His eyes flicked to me, and I smiled as much as I could, but my vision wavered. As my eyes closed, all I wanted was for him to be safe.
CAL
Seeing Mila crumpled on the floor, Logan’s foot on her chest, nearly undid me. Her smile, small but strong, brought me back into focus. Blood smeared her lips, matching a red stain on Logan’s. He’d touched her. My stomach plummeted. What else had he done to her? Her eyes drifted shut, and I knew I was going to kill the bastard.
Micah’s voice grumbled in my ears, something about explosives in the bank. Great, another thing to worry about. Logan smiled, aiming his handgun at Mila. Cold dread filled me, and I gripped my weapon tighter.
She blinked from the floor. I was relieved she hadn’t passed out completely.
“Put it down, Logan. You’ve got nothing left.”
“Nothing? You call this,” he gestured at Mila, “nothing? And my daughter, is she nothing, too? Though she should be, to you.”
I wanted to snarl, but I refused to lose it with this man — he was far too dangerous. That, and I cared too much about the woman on the floor to risk giving into my emotions. From the triumphant glint in his eyes, Logan knew it, too. I cursed myself inwardly for being so obvious, but kept my face a blank mask, channelling everything Liam had ever taught me.
“You — I have no idea what you want with her, but sure as hell aiming a gun at a woman tells me your intent.”
Logan’s eyes filled with loathing, pure and encompassing. I noted it — hatred was a tool I could use against him, and I’d need everything he could give me.
“What I want with her? Oh, the same thing as you, I imagine.”
He smirked, staring at me with emotionless eyes. It was eerie how fast he could switch
from hatred to nothingness, just an empty shell — Wayde Logan at his most dangerous, right there.
His brother stirred at my feet. I knelt, never taking my sights off Logan, and punched him in the jaw with one hand. He lay still as I slowly straightened. The smirk was back on Logan’s face.
“My little brother enjoyed watching your antics last night.” Anger sparked in his eyes, though his tone never bellied it. “I, on the other hand, did not.”
I narrowed my gaze. He was far too confident, too relaxed for the situation. And where the fuck was Micah? The man should have been blowing the back off the bank by now. Liam shouldn’t be far away, either. He’d skirted the edge of the bank, coordinating with local police from the outside. But he’d get jack of that soon enough, I knew. Despite the politician he’d become, Liam couldn’t keep out of the action for long.
Then I registered what Logan had implied; the thought of either of them watching us — watching her — made my blood boil, as the final pieces began to fall into place. There would be time for a good dose of self-loathing later, but right now, I refused to allow him to goad me.
The building rocked, and I smiled, but there was no engine revving outside. Instead, it was Logan who reflected victory in his eyes. Damn it. Maybe the fuses weren’t just inside the bank, after all.
I couldn’t afford another mistake.
Mila shifted beneath him, and he removed his foot from her body. I watched her take strangled breaths in my peripheral vision, pressure building in my lungs. She was hurt — quite badly from those shallow breaths and the lines on her usually soft face — and I couldn’t even go to her.
Logan cocked his head, as though reading my mind.
“My little brother may have broken something in her.” His smile was wide, the bait so sweet. I inhaled through my nose, readjusting my sights.
Micah’s voice whispered in my ear. I shifted slightly, blocking Black’s bulk as much as I could, though Jenny was too far to my right to cover. Micah called in again, and I suppressed the grin that wanted to sneak onto my face.
“All clear, boss.”
I couldn’t fire on Logan without risking Mila, and I still didn’t have a clue how he was setting off the charges, or where the damned things were. For all I knew, I could kill him, and the room would disintegrate around us. My only consolation was that Micah had Ashley safe and well away by now.
Logan watched me, disdain written on his face.
That’s right, you bastard. Underestimate me.
“Playing the hero again, are we?”
My eyes flicked to Mila. She lay still, her chest rising in quick, shallow breaths. I had to approach this carefully, or she would be…I couldn’t finish the thought. The time to wait for Logan to make mistakes was well past.
“Your brother watched us last night? Dirty bastard.” I let the words flow casually, placing little importance on them. Logan’s lips thinned; his grip shifting, just a little. Strike — first time. We were on.
“You couldn’t stand to watch? Pity, you missed a decent show.” I smirked. “She’s fucking gorgeous when she comes.”
Mila’s eyes widened as she stared hard at me, no doubt wondering what the hell I was doing.
I slid across the room, a minuscule movement. Logan’s eyes tracked me; his attention completely off Mila, though he still aimed the pistol at her.
“Must be hard to watch a woman you adore be defiled by another man,” I murmured the words, relaxing my shoulders with effort, recalling the way I’d felt when I’d walked in to find Mandy in my bed with another man in my damned bed. I’d make Logan feel that, tenfold. The back of my neck felt cool, damp. I hoped to god I wasn’t losing blood.
C’mon, bite, you bastard.
Logan snorted, though the muscles around his eyes ticked.
“The Great Dane, rutting like the dog he is for everyone to see. You bore me.”
That he had spoken at all meant I was getting to him. I cocked my head, drawing his eyes back to me, and waited.
Don’t speak first.
“My brother has some…despicable habits. Useful though, that the violence ran to his side, not mine.” His eyes lingered on his brother’s still form, and I was surprised to see thinly-veiled disgust there. Maybe they weren’t as close as I’d thought, though his reference to violence was confusing — I knew he’d killed. Perhaps it was something in the way he saw himself…I stored the information away to look at in the aftermath.
“He liked what he saw, I presume.” I smiled with no humour, showing teeth.
Logan nodded jerkily but said nothing.
“Did he show you her face as I had her come against the wall,” I edged closer, “when she served me through dinner…all the way? I’ve never felt anything so fucking incredible as her lips wrapped around my cock.” My mouth was dry, and I swallowed, leaning back a little too far. The ground was spongy beneath my feet.
Mila’s eyes were as wide as could be, and I knew things with her would never be the same, but for all it was worth, I was trying to keep the girl I loved alive. And I did love her, with every damned part of me, including the part obsessed with Logan. His obsession was her — his weakness. But no more.
A growl emanated from Logan, and I knew I’d won. I tightened my grip as he began to turn my way. Blackness swam at the edge of my vision, nausea rising in my stomach. I tried to focus on the man before me, but I could barely recognise his face, though I’d hunted through thousands of hours of footage to be here, now.
Logan’s smile was wide, gloating, as he directed his weapon my way. The moment dropped out from under me, my head colliding with the floor. A retort echoed distantly, and I waited for the pain.
The floor was cold against my cheek. Fluid pooled beneath me, but the ripping sensation of being shot didn’t come. I blinked, pushing up as far as I could — mere inches from the floor. Just enough to look at Mila. It pissed me off that I hadn’t been able to save her.
Mila’s fingers curled around the butt of Joey’s gun, arms raised. It must have cost her everything to take it — pain taughtened her face, the set of her shoulders, and I promised myself I would give her every damn thing she needed to forget today. The lump at her side was Logan, doubled over. Blood ran freely from his shoulder.
I scrambled for his gun, fingers just brushing the metal edges, rolling fast. The world spun down to a tunnel, with Logan at the end of it. My disorientation lasted a moment, then I had his gun in my hand. Logan raised his head, eyes terrible.
My finger tightened on the trigger, remembering all the things he’d done, but he wasn’t looking at me — his gaze was fixed on Mila. Anger rolled over me, my breath coming fast. That bastard–
“Put it down, Cal.” Liam’s voice was soft and calm, right behind me.
I didn’t blink.
“You got him?”
“Yeah.”
I relaxed, lying back, and let the world spin around me. Liam edged through the back door of the bank, sights on Logan. The hint of a smile played on his lips.
I only saw it because I knew him so well. The last time I had seen him with that victorious look was the night Selena had slapped some random in a pub who had hit on her. Liam just sat back and watched, raising his glass when the unwanted paramour had teetered in front of her, then collapsed to the floor while his mates laughed.
That same damned smile, knowing she was his, though he was yet to truly claim her. But it was coming. We were family.
The man always had our backs; we all knew that.
Logan stayed down while Liam cuffed him. I edged toward Mila across the carpet, but one look from Liam held me back. I stayed put. The floor was amazingly comfortable. Mila smiled faintly, creeping forward, lips framing words I couldn't hear. I was out before she reached me.
Mila fussed with the ambulance crew, refusing bandages and finally taking an ice pack for the bruising to her throat to placate the paramedics attending her. She was a small but formidable opponent and eventually won over the ambu
lance crew, assuring them she was alright.
The small group watched with concern as she tried not to cradle her ribs crossing the road to me. They moved on to greener pastures — namely Ashley, who couldn’t argue her way out of the situation.
Mila found me where I sat on the steps of an ambulance, crouching to look into my eyes with a worried face.
“You’re okay? He-I-when you passed out…”
I huffed a laugh at the woman who sported at least one broken rib but refused to go to the hospital to have it treated. I wanted her to go, but at the same time, admired her tenacity.
My kind of woman.
I pulled her gently onto my lap, surprising her with a kiss.
“I’m fine,” I murmured in her ear, “just like you.”
She blushed beautifully, lacing her fingers through mine. Her dark hair fell forward to obscure her face. I brushed it back, studying the line of her brow, the way her lashes almost touched her cheeks when she looked down to the ground.
“Are you okay?” It seemed like a silly question, but I had to ask. She nodded, placing a hand to her ribs. “You should go with them.” I knew she was hurting.
Mila shook her head, pressing into me.
“I’m sorry about what I said back there, in the bank. I had to get his attention off you– I could only fire when he was–”
“I understand, Cal.” She shushed me with two fingers over my lips, shaking her head. I kissed her fingers, leaning forward to press my forehead to hers.
“Plus, I'm proud of you.” Her head lifted, surprise in her eyes.
“Whatever for?”
“For being able to take that shot. For not freezing. You beat it.” More than any of us, she had beat him, broken through the fear. The position I’d put her in, letting Logan into the space I’d thought was safe — safe enough to keep her in my home long past when she should have left — consumed me. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, worried I’d broken something between us that might never heal.
Mila smiled. “It’s okay, Cal. I’m here.”
