Ember (Constant Flame Duet Book 1)

by Christi Whitson

  “Let me be the judge of that. I highly doubt you’ll be able to change my opinion of you.” He looked nervous and sick to his stomach, and Lena reached out to take his hand in both of hers. Logan looked at their joined hands and felt a warmth in his chest that he’d been missing for a very long time.

  “You don’t want that shit in your head. It’ll change the way you look at me, and I couldn’t bear that.”

  “That’s bullshit. I know who you are, and nothing is going to change that.”

  “I’m not the same person, Lena. No one would be after…”

  “After…?” she waited, watching his expression as he deliberated over his next words. Finally, he took a breath and said the words he’d never wanted to say to anyone.

  “I was a sniper,” Logan admitted quietly, unable to look at her face for fear of the disgust he might see in her eyes. “Over the last four years, I’ve been ordered to hunt down and shoot seventeen people. To assassinate them. And I did it. I followed orders… Traded my soul for a paycheck and some twisted version of hero worship from the other guys in my unit,” he paused, shaking his head again. “Anyone who can congratulate you for successfully committing murder isn’t right in the head. What does that say about the person who pulls the trigger?”

  “I… I had no idea,” Lena replied softly, struggling to come to terms with his revelation. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “I couldn’t stand to see the disappointment in your eyes. I fucking lived for our phone conversations, even our emails. It was the only thing that made me feel like I might still be the same person who joined the Army four years ago. But now…” He made a noise that was suspiciously like a sob. “Now you know the truth. I wouldn’t blame you if you don’t want to know me anymore.”

  Lena sat up straighter and grabbed him forcefully by the chin, turning his face toward hers. Logan was momentarily stunned by the strength of her grip, and he didn’t try to pull away. Her expression was livid, and she only dropped her hand when she was certain that he wouldn’t avoid eye contact again.

  “I don’t want to hear you talking about my best friend like that ever again. Do you hear me? I won’t stand for it. You are not a murderer.”

  “Yes, I am,” Logan argued sadly, his eyes swimming. “I killed people because some higher-up told me to. I’m not the same person I was before, Lena.”

  “You might be right,” she conceded. “You’re not the same person… but maybe you’re a better one now.”

  “How can you say that?”

  “You’re older and wiser. You’ve learned a lot about the world and about yourself. You’re a stronger person now.”

  “Yeah, strong enough to shoot people from fifteen hundred feet and then carry on like it was nothing,” Logan retorted bitterly.

  “No, strong enough to walk away from it. Not everyone has the guts to quit something they’ve worked so hard for, Logan.”

  He sighed, gazing into her eyes with a tortured expression and wanting so much to believe that her assessment was more accurate than his own.

  “I don’t know how to tell my dad. He’s going to be so disappointed. I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t speak to me for a year.”

  “I can be there with you when you tell him… if you want.”

  “I’ll think about it.” Logan sighed, swirling his drink around in the glass before taking a long swig. “I’m sorry to put all of this on you. You were having your own little meltdown or something, and I come over here with my sob story…”

  “Don’t apologize. It actually helped. Focusing on someone else’s problems always makes mine feel smaller. So, thanks.” She raised her glass as if to toast, and he snorted a laugh before clinking his against it.

  “Happy to be of service.” They rolled their eyes in unison.

  “So… what are you going to do now?”

  “I don’t know,” he sighed. “I could maybe go into the FBI or the CIA, but honestly, I think I’ve had my fill of civil service. It’s all a bunch of bullshit propaganda. I don’t mind taking orders, but not when it means having to kill people. Sometimes I didn’t even know what the target had done wrong…”

  “Then I don’t blame you for wanting to get away from government work,” Lena nodded.

  “Yeah. Some of my buddies were talking about going into private security when they get out. I was thinking I might look into that.”

  “That’s a great idea,” she replied sincerely. “But you have to promise me something.”

  “What?”

  “You have to get some help. Talk to someone at the VA or find a shrink trained to deal with PTSD, because it’s no joke.” Her expression was stern and unwavering, but Logan frowned and looked away, hesitating to commit. She reached for his chin again and dragged his face back toward her. “I mean it. I’m not letting you out of this. You have to get help. Promise me.”

  Logan sighed in defeat, looking into her blue eyes and wishing like hell he’d come home to find her single. He’d have loved nothing better than to kiss her right at that moment. But she wasn’t single. And he knew full well that he wasn’t stable enough for a relationship at that point anyway. Even if she was single, she’d deserve much better than me, he thought sadly.

  Eleanore Gardner was no one-night stand.

  “I promise,” he replied softly. His heart skipped a beat when her serious expression transformed into a smile.

  “Thank you. Now was that so hard?”

  “Yes.”

  They laughed and slowly worked through the rest of their drinks. Logan hadn’t made the cocktails particularly strong, but Lena’s energy began to wane about halfway through her second one. She pulled a spare pillow and blanket from the linen closet and threw them at Logan, advising him that the couch would probably be more comfortable than the futon in the spare bedroom. He gave her a playful salute, and they bid each other goodnight.

  As Lena got ready for bed, she checked her phone and was surprised to see two missed calls and one voicemail from Owen. She sighed as she hit ‘play’ on the audio file.

  “Lena, please answer the phone. Or at least text me when you get this. I’m sorry, alright? I understand why you got so angry. Just please call me, okay? Let’s talk. I love you.”

  She checked the time of the missed calls and noted that they’d come in several hours earlier. Lena was slightly mollified to hear Owen apologizing, but he still hadn’t admitted that he’d been wrong. He’d only said that he understood why she’d gotten angry. That frustrated her, and since it was already so late, she decided not to reply until morning. She assumed he was asleep by now, and even if he weren’t, she wasn’t in the right state of mind to talk to him.

  No matter how irritated she might have been with Owen, however, it didn’t make it any easier for her to sleep alone. She’d been looking forward to sleeping in his arms that night. Lena sighed in disappointment and burrowed into her pillow, picturing his loving, familiar green eyes.

  Earlier Sunday Evening

  Owen stomped noisily into his apartment and slammed the door shut. He immediately began to pace the short length of his living room, shedding his coat and shoes irritably as he went. His thoughts were a jumble of aggravation and anxiety, and some detached part of him realized that he hadn’t been this agitated in a very long time.

  Is she going to break up with me? Fuck… I’m sure the meathead war hero will be there to help her move on, he scowled, pacing faster.

  He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her, not after he’d somehow found her after all this time. They were meant to be together. He knew it, and so did she. Owen repeated the words in his mind as he ran his fingers through his dark hair. Was he being overly sensitive about other guys?

  Hell no.

  ...Maybe.

  Okay, so maybe not all of the guys who see her want to get in her panties, he conceded inwardly. Maybe seventy-five percent?

  “And the other twenty-five percent are gay,” Owen grumbled out loud.

&
nbsp; He would never understand how Lena managed to be so oblivious to the way men looked at her. She didn’t seem to think that she was bad-looking, but she certainly undervalued herself in more ways than one. She didn’t comprehend what a good person she was, how kind and interesting… Owen knew, at least on some level, that the men who gawked at her weren’t going to take her away from him. He trusted her, even if he didn’t trust them.

  But Lena trusts Logan, a little voice reminded him. He groaned and sank onto his couch, resting his forehead against his palms. Guilt rose up in his chest as he realized that questioning Logan James’s motives had been worse than when he’d questioned anyone else’s in the past. It implied that he didn’t trust Lena’s judgment.

  No wonder she’s pissed.

  Owen was still absolutely certain that Logan’s feelings for her went much further than brotherly love, but Lena was apparently not in the right frame of mind to believe it. Logan was the only person she’d trusted during the years she and Owen had been apart, and Owen knew full well that there would be no getting rid of him. He didn’t have to like the guy, he just had to tolerate him. Could he do that for Lena’s sake?

  I can… try, he sighed.

  Owen muttered a curse and pulled his phone out of his pocket. The sooner he apologized, the sooner they could put this misunderstanding behind them. This was supposed to be their Christmas break together, and he wasn’t about to let a stupid argument ruin it. Her phone rang through to voicemail twice, and he left a message the second time.

  “Lena, please answer the phone. Or at least text me when you get this. I’m sorry, alright? I understand why you got so angry. Just please call me, okay? Let’s talk. I love you.”

  His heart felt heavy as he ended the call, and he broke his usual habit of silencing the ringtone on his phone at night. He placed it right next to his pillow so that he would be sure to wake up if she called or texted. A voice that was not unlike Eric’s seemed to snicker in his ear. Pussy whipped. In spite of his lingering anxiety, Owen smiled a little in the darkness.

  Damn straight.

  Monday

  Owen jolted awake the next morning, his body drenched in sweat and his chest heaving. His nightmares had gotten better over the last few months, but after the events of the previous evening, he wasn’t surprised that his sleep had been fitful and restless. He picked up his phone quickly and sighed in disappointment. It was still early, but there were no texts or missed calls from Lena.

  She’s probably just asleep, he reasoned. Owen deliberated for another few minutes before hauling himself out of bed and into the shower. He decided that he’d pick up some breakfast for the two of them and wake her with a kiss and an apology. And maybe some make-up sex…

  He spent most of the short drive rehearsing what he would say to her and hoping her temper had cooled enough that she would hear him out. When he arrived at Lena’s front door a half hour later with a bag of bagels, all was silent from within the apartment, and he hoped that the sound of his key opening the lock wouldn’t disturb her.

  Unfortunately for Owen, he was the one disturbed by the sight that met his eyes, because standing just on the other side of the door was Logan James, poised to attack a suspected intruder and wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. Owen jerked away from him defensively, his better judgment immediately clouded by a rush of jealousy and suspicion as he took in Logan’s lack of clothing. The bag of breakfast food fell to the hardwood floor, completely forgotten as Owen lunged forward, swinging his fist into Logan’s face.

  Years of military training and more than a little post-traumatic stress had turned Logan into a light sleeper, and he’d woken instantly at the sound of Owen’s key in the lock. He hadn’t realized that anyone other than Lena had a key, and he’d reacted instinctively, preparing to fight off the intruder. The moment he’d seen Owen’s face, his body had relaxed, and he’d been unprepared for Owen’s quick anger. Not to mention his right hook. It took every ounce of Logan’s self-control not to hit him back.

  “What the fuck?!” he shouted, wincing in pain.

  Under normal circumstances, Logan might have been better prepared to block the punch in the first place, but his reflexes had been stymied by the lingering effects of sleep and the realization that the newcomer was no prowling intruder. When Owen raised his fist a second time, however, Logan was ready for him. He countered the maneuver and used Owen’s own momentum against him, locking him into a hold that rendered him powerless.

  “Calm down, man,” Logan said as Owen struggled futilely. “It’s not what you think.”

  “What the fuck is going on?!”

  Both men were startled by Lena’s voice and immediately separated, their expressions twisted with anger. Owen’s bloodstream was still pulsing with adrenaline and jealousy, but Logan didn’t miss the furious look on Lena’s face.

  “He hit me,” Logan explained.

  “I walked into my girlfriend’s apartment and found a guy in his underwear!”

  “I’d just woken up! I thought someone was breaking in!”

  “Does a thief usually have their own key?”

  “Enough!” Lena shouted over them. Her blue eyes blazed as she focused on Owen. “You punched him? That’s how much you trust me? I guess that apology you left me last night was a crock of shit.”

  “I swear I meant every word, Lena. I just wasn’t expecting to find the guy nearly naked in your apartment at eight in the morning. I didn’t even think -”

  “So, you just decided to hit him,” she spat.

  “I want to know what the hell he’s doing here in his fucking underwear,” Owen growled, not bothering to keep the suspicion out of his voice. Lena glared back at him, closing the space between them and looking him dead in the eye. When she spoke, her voice was almost deadly calm, and Logan took an instinctive step backward, recognizing the danger better than Owen did.

  “For the last time, Logan is not in love with me. And he slept on the fucking couch.” She pointed to the pillow and blanket that was still sitting on the sofa, and Owen’s expression fell slightly in remorse.

  “Is that what your argument was about?” Logan spoke up nervously.

  “Yes. Don’t worry, I know it’s ridiculous,” she rolled her eyes. He rubbed a hand guiltily across the back of his neck.

  “Actually… it’s not. He’s kind of right.” Logan’s reluctant admission was met with absolute silence, and after a few moments, his discomfort forced more words out of his mouth. “Okay, someone say something.” Owen recovered first, glancing at Lena.

  “I hate to say, ‘I told you so,’ but…”

  “Wh…” Lena stared back at her friend, still speechless and fumbling for an appropriate response. “Logan… What are you talking about?”

  He sighed and touched a hand to his aching cheek. Her eyes followed the movement, and she glanced reflexively at Owen’s hand, which was swelling slightly. Lena wordlessly retrieved a couple of ice packs out of the freezer and handed one to each of them before bending down to pick up the paper bag Owen had dropped. She peeked into it and smiled sadly at him, feeling more than a little guilty for the way she’d reacted to his suspicions. They still had some things to talk about, but it appeared he’d been right all along.

  “Well?” Lena prompted her friend, handing him the t-shirt he’d shed the night before. Logan shrugged it on and shot a furtive glance at Owen, who was still glowering at him.

  “The timing was never right, Lena. I’ve been gone for four years, and… I didn’t know how to tell you anyway.”

  “How long have you felt that way?” she asked in astonishment.

  “Since around the time I left,” he confessed. Her shocked expression had him hurrying to continue. “It’s nothing you did. You didn’t lead me on or anything.”

  Lena’s face twisted with regret, and for a moment Owen worried that she was wishing she were single and free to return Logan’s feelings. A heavy feeling settled in his gut, and he held his breath, waiting for her
response.

  “Logan, I… I’m really sorry, but… I’ve always thought of you as my best friend. As my brother. I do love you, of course, but not in a romantic way. I’m in love with Owen.” Her words unraveled the knot of anxiety in Owen’s stomach, and Logan nodded in understanding.

  “You don’t have anything to apologize for, Squeak. It’s always been a dream that I knew would never come true,” he shrugged. Logan glanced ruefully at Owen and added, “And look, don’t be mad at your boyfriend for seeing what any halfway perceptive person would see. He’s a man in love too, and it takes one to know one.”

  Lena gave Owen another reluctant smile, but her eyes still shone with concern for her friend. The last thing she ever wanted was to hurt him, particularly after he’d been such a good friend to her for so many years. What happens now? she wondered mutely. Lena knew things were bound to be awkward for at least a little while, but would their friendship survive this? She couldn’t fathom the idea of not having Logan in her life.

  “I think I’m going to head out, guys.” he announced. They watched him pull on his jeans and socks.

  “Sorry about the punch, man,” Owen murmured, still wary of Logan’s intentions. Being in love with someone like Lena wasn’t something a guy could just ‘get over,’ and Logan’s easy surrender seemed too good to be true.

  “Don’t worry about it,” the older man waved him off. “Certainly not the worst pain I’ve experienced, and I probably would’ve done the same thing. Except I probably would’ve gotten that second punch in,” he teased. “Seriously though, no hard feelings.”

  “Do you… do you want some breakfast before you go?” Lena asked weakly.

  “Nah, I’m good, Squeak. I’ll check in with you later, alright? And I’m pretty sure my dad and I will be at Nate’s for Christmas.”

  “Okay,” she nodded. Lena suppressed the instinct to hug him goodbye, feeling uncertain of what would be inappropriate now.

  The apartment was engulfed in silence as Logan shut the door behind him, and Owen watched her nervously.