He’d had so many plans for today, but his responsibility could not be ignored, and Jordan was right Lewis could not be trusted with something this delicate. John would not be pleased if the Pierson wolf pack became a problem over something so easily handled correctly.
“What’s wrong?” Ashton came awake slowly and reached out to Logan. “Are you leaving me?” That question cut Logan so deep that he gasped and lurched into an explanation while pulling his beloved up into his arms and kissing him profusely.
“Not leaving you, sweetheart.” He stressed. “I will be back. There’s a problem at work. I have to go in.” He explained gently.
“But, the bar’s closed.” Ashton countered with blatant disappointment. Fuck, why did that wolf have to die tonight of all nights? He thought. Leaving Ashton now was going to be pure hell.
“The back rooms run all night. It’s a service only the regulars are aware of; we don’t advertise it.” Logan didn’t have time to explain the back rooms, so he left it there. “John and Race are unavailable, so it falls to me to take care of this. I’m sorry, baby, but I have to go. I don’t know how long this will take, but I’ll call and let you know when to expect me.” He kissed him again and laid Ashton back down onto the bed and tucked him in. “Sleep now, it’s still early.” He kissed him again long and hard, and then he was gone.
…
Ashton laid in bed for a while after Logan had left, but his insecurities and general upset forced him up just after seven. It was Sunday morning, and he was up at seven; this is criminal, but he could not sleep when his mind kept replaying everything that Logan did and said since the first moment of their meeting.
He stood in his kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee and looking out his window that gave a lovely view of the back alley and the dumpsters lined up there. He raised his hand absently and fingered the little scar left from last night’s lovemaking. His body tingled at the touch, and his mind yearned for Logan Brown. But he left, he said he had to go to work, and then he left.
Ashton tossed the rest of his coffee in the sink and set his cup on the counter. It was time to get over it. What the hell did he expect? One night of hot sex does not a relationship make. He knew it was temporary when it started; he’d just been hoping for more. Sex with Logan was not something he was going to forget right away; that was a certainty. It was going to make any future relationships pale in comparison for a long time to come. The thought of others and a future without Logan brought on a sudden and profound sadness, but he forced himself to shake it off.
He glanced down at the cut on his forearm and marveled at how quickly it was healing. He’d never seen anything like it. The flesh had fused together, and the discoloration was rapidly fading away. The other cuts and bruises were completely gone. He had no explanation for it but was thankful for the fast recovery. He planned to avoid his parents for a while, even with his father’s strange apology, he wasn’t ready to see them anytime soon.
His mother had called earlier, but he’d declined the call and would continue to do so. She then sent a text telling him that his father had broken his hand and was taken to the hospital last evening. Ashton did not respond. They cared nothing for the injuries they’d inflicted on him over the years, so he wasn’t in the mood to care about his father’s broken hand.
He didn’t consider himself a mean person, but he hoped that the hand ached like a bitch for at least a week or maybe two. He was glad he wasn’t there when it happened because his father would have blamed him for it, and the blowback would have been severe. He doubted that he’d have gotten away with just fifteen stitches.
His father was hurt, and he didn’t give a shit, and more importantly, he didn’t give a shit that he didn’t give a shit. Today was a good day to sever his connection to Jean and Allan Webb. Today he was a free man. No more contact, no more guilt, no more punching bag, he was free. It took fifteen stitches to open his eyes, but they were finally open.
This newfound resolve was a strength he never knew he had. Logan Brown was a good influence, apparently. He laughed and headed into the bedroom to get dressed. He continued to check his phone periodically in hopes that he might have missed a call from Logan or that he’d sent a text but so far, no contact. He finished dressing and headed downtown to Bergman’s Café for lunch.
…
Logan stood with the Alpha and the elders of the pack as Esmond was carried off the chartered plane that had been sent to retrieve his body and bring him home. It was part of their custom that dictated that a principal from the Dark Side conglomeration also be in attendance and so that duty fell to Logan in the absence of John and Race.
Esmond had died while in Dark Side territory, so all details had to be carefully attended to. When the Alpha’s representative arrived, the body was examined, the original doctor’s report was provided, and all witnesses were questioned. Esmond had a reputation, so dying balls deep in a gorgeous twink did not come as a surprise to anyone.
But he was a man that was well-loved by his family and his pack, so they were sending him off in style. They bury their dead within twenty-four hours, so the funeral gathering would begin as soon as the body was brought to the sacred circle located in the mountains. Logan would normally find the whole process interesting if it weren’t for the fact his heart was aching for his newly bonded beloved.
Once the casket was secure, they headed for the long black car that would lead the procession to the mountains. The Alpha had asked Logan to join him for the ride. Logan paused for a minute before getting in and sent Ashton a quick text saying he missed him and would see him soon. Once they were in the mountains, the service would get sketchy, so further contact would have to wait until he was on his way home.
…
Ashton was eating his fries when he heard his phone beep. He dropped everything and grabbed his phone from the table where he’d laid it while he ate. The message was brief but appreciated and soothed Ashton’s insecurities for the time being. He didn’t want to bother him, but he shot back a short response with a big smile: ‘I miss you too.’
He was just about to finish and go pay his bill when someone abruptly sat down across from him in the isolated booth. He looked up from his plate to level an angry stare at Will Chandler. His light mood was gone in an instant, and a cloud of bitter hatred moved in. He noticed that Will was sporting a black eye that he’d tried to hide with concealer but was unsuccessful.
“Where’s your bodyguard?” Will snarled and glanced around the immediate area as if gauging how loud he could get and still be unnoticed. Ashton pushed his plate aside and did not respond but rather picked up his bill and began to leave the booth. Will grabbed him roughly by the upper arm, keeping him seated.
Ashton shook him off with a glare, but Will moved to stand over Ashton, making it impossible for him to leave the booth without Will stepping back. Ashton picked up his fork in his right hand and gripped it tightly. “Move, or I will move you.” He stated and held Will’s menacing gaze until he ultimately moved to allow Ashton to stand but remained uncomfortably close.
“You think you can ruin me? You think anyone is going to believe a nobody like you over someone they know and like? You best shut up and crawl back into your hole before something tragic happens to you.” Will’s threats would have bothered him a couple of days ago, but today they fell flat with little grit or meaning. The fact that Ashton didn’t cower or cringe at the warning seemed to upset Will further.
“I haven’t spoken to anyone; if rumors or being spread, perhaps you should discuss it with some of your so-called friends who know and like you so much.” Ashton shot back. Will gripped him by the arm and tightened until it was painful. Ashton, still holding the fork, pressed it against Will’s tender middle. They stood like that for several seconds until the waitress intervened and asked if there was anything wrong.
“No, nothing wrong,” Will said as he released Ashton’s arm, and Ashton tossed the fork on the tabletop. “Nothing wrong, just a nobody wh
o doesn’t understand his place in the world.” The waitress stayed put until Will turned and left the café.
“Sorry about that.” Ashton apologized. “Will likes to be dramatic.” He explained and gave her the bill and his money. She touched his arm as he was about to leave, drawing his attention.
“Be careful.” She said under her breath. “I hear that guy is bad news.”
Well, word must indeed be traveling, but Ashton was not the source. “I will, and thank you.” He said and left the café. When he stepped out onto the sidewalk, he looked around in case Will was close by. He really had enough of that guy for one day.
Ashton dreaded going to work tomorrow and began thinking about what Will had in store for him. As the assistant manager, he could cut Ashton’s hours, and he could give him every shit duty at the store. He mentally prepared himself for that outcome. Will seemed less manipulative and more controlling in his approach now, so it was only going to get worse. Damn, he wished he’d never gone out with the stupid bastard, but then he probably wouldn’t have met Logan.
Logan came along at the exact time in his life when he needed someone who cared and who had the ability to inspire him. Being with Logan gave Ashton a sense of his own power and enlightened him to the fact that he didn’t have to give in to everyone’s needs. He had a right to his own life and his own needs, and he could say no. Tomorrow would be a true test of his newfound power. He reached up and touched the little scar again, loving the sensations it evoked. His mind went instantly to last night, and his thoughts began to make him hard.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Logan stood with the Pack and observed their rights of passage from this life to the next, a complex ritual of dance, tokens, and chants. It was a class exit, and it was obvious that Esmond was a revered member of this pack and apparently nearly four hundred years old. The paranormal lived long lives, but none were immortal. Esmond’s friends and family were sad to say goodbye. Logan only knew him from the bar where Esmond would come to blow off steam. He was always friendly, kind to the staff, and easy to please.
He felt a torrent of changing emotions wash over him when he put his focus on his beloved. Ashton was experiencing myriad feelings, one right after another. Logan wondered what was happening, but he had no way of contacting him at the moment. Of all the emotions bombarding him, fear was not among them, and his beloved was not in danger. He was hit with a varied measure of confusion, anger, bitterness, irritation, and then suddenly, things shifted marvelously.
Ashton touched his bonding scar, and Logan could feel the effects all the way to the Ozarks. His lover trembled with the memory of their lovemaking, and Logan found himself getting hard as he continued to tune into his beloved’s sensuous responses.
Alpha Nash turned and smiled at him. “Whatever you’re thinking about must be damn good.” He said. Logan returned the smile with a nod.
“My beloved, we recently bonded, and I was reaching out to him to make sure he was okay in my absence,” Logan told him.
“You’re a lucky man, congratulations.” The Alpha looked away as if deep in thought. “We’ll finish this tonight, and I’ll have you back with your beloved by tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Alpha.”
…
Monday morning came too early, and Ashton found himself in a rather foul mood. He hadn’t heard from Logan again, and he had Will Chandler to look forward to this morning. He dressed in his standard suit and tie and mentally prepared himself for the day. Will would no doubt give him grief at every opportunity.
He checked his phone one more time, hoping that Logan had messaged him while he was getting dressed, and to his relief and delight, there it was.
Good morning my love,
On my way home. It will take a few hours. Call you when I get there.
Love Logan
It wasn’t the most verbose message, but it said everything Ashton needed to hear. The statement of love touched him deeply, but he resisted reading too much into the endearment. The overwhelming attraction he felt for Logan was something he had no explanation for. It wasn’t just that he’d saved him Friday night at the Dark Side or that he was the perfect companion and amazing lover. It was how Logan made him feel about himself that meant the most. He had a way of making Ashton less scared, less apprehensive, more confident, and overall clear-headed.
He felt as if his heart was tied to Logan Brown, and any thought of losing him brought on a sadness and heartache. This was real, he wasn’t sure about soul mates, but if he believed in that stuff, Logan would be his soul mate. Everything about him fits with Ashton, and having him in his life seemed natural as if the void he filled had been waiting just for him.
Ashton couldn’t wait to see him again, and his heart started to beat faster just in anticipation. To have Logan’s arms around him and his lips on his. Ashton’s thoughts were once again carrying him away, so he fought to change his focus and calm down enough for a day at Knight’s Jewelry.
The shop was quiet when he arrived both Alison and Mike avoided him, and he hoped they continued to do so for the rest of their lives. They obviously were aware of Will’s intentions last Friday and had said nothing to him about it. They were a party to the despicable set up that chilled him even now to even think about.
What could have happened stayed on the edges of his awareness. If Logan hadn’t cared enough to watch out for him, he would have been at the mercies of Will and his friends. Thank God for Logan Brown. The bartender at one of the roughest bars in the city turned out to be the only true good guy. Who would have thought?
“Ashton.” He saw Mr. Ward coming from the back room and was calling him over.
“Yes, sir.” He walked over to where he stood behind one of the jewelry cases.
“The purchases from the Vegas show have arrived. I’d like for you to sit with Gloria while she reviews, assesses, and stocks the pieces. Take notes.” This was the first step to moving towards the buying end of the business. The opening that Mr. Ward had spoken of must be finally coming through.
“Okay.” Ashton headed to the back and found Gloria in the office with several boxes. His day was beginning to get better, and Will Chandler will call in sick with any luck.
…
“How was it?” Race met Logan as he was coming through the back door.
“Interesting and a bit stressful considering I was the only vampire for probably fifty square miles.” He laughed.
“Nash is a good guy but a stickler when it comes to ritual and practice. Sorry, you were pulled away from your beloved.” Race was a rough character to the core but also could empathize.
“I’ve kept in touch, so he seems fine. I’ll go check on him after we meet with John.” Logan was beyond needing to connect with his beloved. Being away from him so soon after their bond has been excruciating.
“I’ll miss Esmond, the stories that man could tell, but he got his wish at least.” Race walked with Logan to John’s office to give a complete report of the incident.
“How’s that?” Logan wondered what wish he was referring to.
“He told me he wanted to die in a blaze of glory on the battlefield or with his cock buried deep in someone’s ass.” Yes, he definitely got his wish. They both were smiling when they entered John’s office, but that lightheartedness was short-lived.
“Sit, we have a situation,” John stated as they entered and shut the door. John was seated behind his sprawling desk, looking particularly irritated. They sat in the two chairs on the opposite side. Logan feared he wasn’t going to be seeing Ashton as soon as he had planned.
He needed to hurry this relationship along and get Ashton moved in here with him because being denied Ashton’s presence was playing havoc with his emotions and control. The idea of doing as John had with Elliot and just kidnap him and bring him here crossed his mind.
“This has to do with your beloved Ashton Webb and that fucking miscreant Will Chandler,” John said while leaning back in his chair. That statement caug
ht and held Logan’s attention.
“You want me to send Lewis to take care of him?” Race always with the solutions.
“It’s too late for that. Chandler has filed a complaint with the police stating that he was physically assaulted here last Friday night by a member of staff.” John told them.
“Two members of staff, actually.” Race commented. “Logan started it, and I ended it.” John laughed.
“If Chandler suddenly disappears, the cops will be all over our asses, so we have to handle this quietly.” John sat forward once again and leaned his arms on the desk. “I assume he was warned as to what would happen to him if he went to the police.” John cocked an eyebrow at both of them.
“Loud and clear,” Logan stated, and Race concurred.
“Chandler is familiar with you two clearly, so send Lewis to follow up but tell him not to kill him. Make an example, make it memorable, and leave no visible marks.” The meeting progressed to the report on Esmond’s death and Logan’s interaction with the Pierson Pack. John made it brief, thankfully.
“I know that you’re newly bonded, but I have a job for you tonight. I just got word that the dockworkers, most of which are vampires and wolves, are coming here tonight. It’s going to be rough and raw, and I need a capable bartender to help keep things from exploding.” Logan wasn’t thrilled by the order but understood the need for seasoned staff on a night full of wild paranormals.
“You can go, Logan, spend time with your beloved. Race can fill me in on the rest, and I’ll see you back here at eight.”
“Thanks, John.” Logan was up and out of there in seconds, his heart and soul pining for his beloved.
…
Ashton took his break at two-thirty; sitting in the staff lounge with a few cookies and a cup of coffee, he eagerly checked his phone. He hadn’t had the opportunity to check it in hours, and he ached to get another message from Logan. But nothing yet. He set his phone on the table with a sigh and went back to his coffee and cookies.
Logan's Love: Dark Side Vampires Vol. 2 Page 6
