by Aubrey Irons
And it damn well is.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Logan
“So, you two seem like you’re fitting together nicely.”
I almost choke on my steak as I quickly glance up across the table at Hudson. He’s grinning at me, but I’m certain it’s more of a ‘I told you so’ look than a ‘hey buddy, I know you’re fucking Quinn’ look. He’s also not jumping over the table to murder me with his salad fork, so that’s a pretty good indication of choice number one.
Of course, that doesn’t mean my pulse isn’t pounding like a fucking racehorse now. Yeah, dinner out with Hudson and Reagan, and Quinn was probably not a great plan. I’m sure this has double-date written all over it to anyone else in the restaurant, or our waiter for that matter, and that simple fact has me on wild edge right now. Fooling around like teenagers all over town and in the office is one thing, but playing couple out in public has this strange sort of serious undertone to it that has me more confused than it should.
And then there’s also something about the way that Reagan’s curious gaze keeps lingering a little longer on me than necessary. I know she’s no idiot. Even if she doesn’t explicitly know - and I’m pretty sure she does - she pretty obviously has a good idea. I’ll grant though that she probably hasn’t said anything to Hudson yet or he’d have tossed me out a window already.
The thought of that actually pisses me off a little bit. Here I am sneaking around with this girl like it’s a big damn taboo thing, when he’s up and married another of the Old Man’s daughters. But he and Reagan look so fucking happy, and hell, he broke whatever rules we had first. ‘Protect them’. I mean I don’t think William exactly meant ‘don’t date my daughters’ with those words, but I seriously doubt he’d be impressed with a roughneck grunt like me fooling around with Quinn like this. It’s different with Hudson and Reagan. Hud’s learned to deal with his shit, instead of like me who just hides it.
My cellphone buzzes in my pocket, and as I take it out and glance at it, I’m suddenly reminded of exactly what I’m hiding. Reminded like a slug to the gut.
I scowl at Javier’s text under the table, gritting my teeth. Fighting has always been a thrill to me. There’s this rush of pure reality when you connect, or even when someone connects with you. But now, fuck, now it’s just this thing I have to do. Like a jail sentence I just can’t get through. I’m over it, but it’s not over me, apparently.
I glance at the address on my screen - some shit-hole part of the South Bronx - and stand from the table as I clear my throat. “I, uh, I’ve gotta run and do something.”
Hudson frowns. “Aw, what the hell, man? We went over those shipping contracts all afternoon, we’re done with business for the day.” He shakes his head. “Sit your ass down and be normal.”
“It’s- uh, it’s a date actually.” I say, raking my hand through my hair and trying not to look as guilty as I feel.
“Oh!” Hudson looks up from his plate and grins at me. “Well, shit, get going then!”
Reagan’s eyes narrow at me. “Good for you, Logan.” She says dryly, and I swallow and clear my throat again uncomfortably. Yeah, she definitely knows.
I glance quickly at Quinn and see the frozen look on her face as she avoids my eyes and pushes food around her plate with her fork. She knows what this is.
“Uh, so, okay then. I’ll see you guys later on?” I force a casual smile out at the table, but my eyes keep darting back to Quinn, who still won’t look at me.
“Yeah, see ya.” She finally mumbles out, looking away and taking a sip of wine.
It’s not until I’m about to climb into my car at the valet stand when I hear her shout my name as she comes running out of the restaurant. Her face looks white as she shakes her head when I turn to her, and it feels like a stab through my chest.
“Don’t go,” she says pleadingly.
“Quinn-”
“Just don’t go? You don’t have to fucking do this! Please, Logan! Please don’t do this.”
“I have to.”
And I can’t tell you why, and I know you’re going to hate me for that.
I can’t, though. Telling her everything would mean losing her. This might mean the same thing, but at least this way she just thinks I’m an asshole instead of knowing the utter piece of scum I was before. And if I have to lose her anyway, I’m sure as hell not going to let her into that part of me if I can help it. For her sake.
“I have to go, Quinn.” I say quietly.
“Please.” Her eyes are wide and searching my face for something that I know she’s just not going to find. Not right now. “For me.” She says, and it’s like someone’s just punched me in the face. “For me, don’t go.”
It’s all for you, I think, tightening my jaw as I look into those deep pools of her eyes.
“Here,” I fish the keys to my penthouse out of my jacket pocket and push them into her hands. “It’s still partially under construction, but you can stay at my place.” She’s shaking her head and looking away from me with all the pain I know she’s feeling in her eyes. “Quinn, I’ll meet you there later. It’ll be fine.”
She takes the keys, but she’s turning and slipping out of my hands and walking back inside. “It’s going to be fine!” I lie, calling out to her. She turns and gives me one last lingering look full of hurt and pain, and it kills me because lying to her face hurts the worst, worse than I know it’s going to hurt later.
When I’m stepping into the ring later, sweat already pouring down my bare chest in the rush of the moment, the lights bright and the guy across from me looking like he wants to bury me, that last look from Quinn is the only thing I can see.
I’m supposed to win this one, but I just don’t fucking care anymore. Javier is screaming bloody murder at me from outside the ropes, but I ignore him and just take the beating. I barely put up blocks as the guy I’m fighting hits me again, and again, and again, numbing the pain. It’s sweet release with every hit. Like the punishment I get and deserve for fucking up my own rules and breaking her heart.
Quinn-
I stagger back from the solid hit, blinking as the guy advances on me, his fists raised.
Quinn, I’m sorry.
It’s the last thought I have before I hit the ground, and it all goes black.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Quinn
I’m awake when he comes home later. Well, I’m fairly sure I’m asleep at first actually, curled up on the large couch in his study. But the loud crash and the sound of shattering glass has me bolting from my sleep and from the couch with wide eyes and my breath in my throat as I dash towards the sounds. A cold chill seizes my heart as I round the corner, and my hands fly to my mouth when I see Logan slumped over on the floor next to a broken lamp.
Oh, God-
I’m running into the room, and I’m at least four steps in when I shriek as I realize we’re not alone, and the scream hitches like cold water in my throat.
“Well hello there, bonita.” Javier has his arms crossed over his chest and a predatory glint in his eyes as he grins at me, backed by two big looking guys who look incapable of smiling. I’m freezing mid step, and I glance back towards the doorway as Javier laughs. “Aww, now don’t go leaving the party just yet, chica. You just got here!”
He blows me a kiss that has my skin crawling, and one of his guys is stepping behind me to block the doorway.
“Get the fuck away from her, or I’ll-”
I scream and Logan grunts as Javier strides over and cuts him off with a kick to the ribs. “You’ll do what now?” He says with a leering grin down at Logan. “So sorry cabrón, I think you mumbled that last bit.” Logan grits his teeth and glares up the man, but Javier only laughs again and turns towards me. I can feel the blood pounding in my ears.
I’m suddenly keenly aware that this is a world I know nothing about, and that I’m so far out of my element with seeing actual mobsters - or whatever these guys are - inflicting real violence. I immediatel
y think of my time as a med student working the late-night E.R. shift and patching up all manner of stabbings, or busted faces, or cracked ribs from people fighting. But I’ve only ever seen the aftermath, and seeing the first part being enacted right here in the supposed safety of Logan’s home is almost too surreal to even take in.
“Sorry if we woke you, baby.” Javier says, his eyes drifting down over my t-shirt and making me shiver uncomfortably. “We just had to bring your boyfriend back home.” He mimes tossing a drink back. “Think he had a bit too many,” he finished with a wink. “But hey, listen, I could do with a little nightcap if you wanted, honey.” The wicked look on his face has my heart pounding in my ears like a freight train as I slowly take a step back and narrow my eyes at him. “Don’t you fucking touch me.” I hiss.
Logan makes another move on the floor, but one of Javier’s guys keeps him down with a booted foot on his chest as they all laugh.
“Relax, honey,” Javier says with another lecherous grin. “But hey, if you’re into the mercenary type and you wanna try something new.” He winks and grabs his crotch, and I sneer at him in disgust. “Maybe you’d like a guy who doesn’t get his ass kicked so much?” He turns and chuckles down at the bleeding and enraged looking Logan pinned to the floor. “You know, I taught this fucking pendejo everything he fuckin knows back in Africa, and this is the kind of thanks I get!” He sighs dramatically and shakes his head. “Always gotta play the game his way, even when I tell you not to, huh Logan? Always gotta be on top instead of just knowing your fuckin place.”
I frown. Mercenary? Africa? What’s this guy even talking about?
Javier’s eyes light up as soon as he sees the look of confusion on my face. “Oh shit, he still hasn’t told you has he!” He starts to laugh out this grating, horrible chuckle. “Man, Irish, only a guy like you could get away with hittin’ a cutie like this and still not telling her where you came from. Shit, I’m almost impressed!” He chuckles before he turns his gaze on me, a glint in his eye. “And you’re his daughter! You’re William Archer’s kid, and you still don’t know!”
His laugh curls into an evil looking grin as my face betrays my shock. “Oh I know who you are, honey,” he says quietly. “I know exactly who you are, and I also know where to find you and those pretty little sisters of yours.” He grins. “So how about we keep tonight just between us friends, comprendes?” He shoots me a last, lingering wink that has every muscle in my body tensing before he shrugs and turns. “Well, looks like my work here is done!” He nudges Logan with the toe of his boot. “See you next time, Irish.”
I’m frozen in place, trying to will my heartbeat to calm down enough to even think until the front door slams shut. And then I’m racing over to Logan and dropping to my knees beside him. “Jesus, are you-”
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he growls out, turning away from me and wiping the trickle of blood at his lip with the back of his hand.
“What the fuck, Logan!”
He forces out a laugh. “And a good evening to you too, sweet-cheeks.” He turns back and reaches out to grab my hands in his. “Look, I’ll be fine, Quinn.”
But before I can help it, I can feel the sting of tears in my eyes. “Get out, Logan.” I whisper.
“What?” He frowns.
“Of whatever you’re involved in, please just get out!”
His face darkens. “I told you, it’s not that simpl-”
“Why, because of Africa?”
He stiffens and starts to open his mouth but I grab him by the shirt and lean in close to him. “Look, I don’t care, Logan! I don’t care what happened there, okay? I know my Dad was involved in certain things, but I don’t care. I just want you to get out of it.” The tears run down my cheeks then as I look pleadingly into his eyes. “Please.”
I whimper as his lips crash into mine, and then I’m clutching at him like time or the world or even a strong wind might tear us apart. Then we’re tearing at each other’s clothes, and I’m gasping and clutching at him with the pure and undiluted need for him. The need to touch him and feel him. He pulls my t-shirt over my head and runs his hand down over my skin, and I’m shivering as my hands find the hardness pressing against the front of his gym-shorts. He growls as he flips us around and lays me on my back on the floor, his biceps and his chest rippling as he leans in to kiss me with fire and heat and growling, raging lust.
There’s no foreplay this time, no teasing and no slow build because we’re both desperate for each other in that moment. He’s skimming my panties down my legs, tearing at the foil packet in his hands with his teeth, and slipping between my legs as I rake my fingernails down over his shoulders and kiss him with everything I have.
I whimper as he runs the head of his cock over my entrance, looking up into his eyes to see them flashing green and gold at me. “You want this?” I bite my lip as I nod, and his grin only deepens as he leans down to nip at the lobe of my ear. “Beg me for it.”
Oh fuck.
“Please,” I breath out, my chest rising and falling with my gasping breaths as he sucks at that tender spot where my neck meets my collarbone as he runs his thickness over my wet folds. “Fuck me and never stop fucking me!”
We both cry out as he plunges into the hilt in one stroke, filling me up so tightly and so perfectly. It’s like sweet release and relief as he grinds into me as I wrap my legs around him and draw him in deep. And when he starts to fuck me like that, right against the floor with deep, powerful strokes, it’s raw, and primal, and animalistic, and he’s got me moaning his name and scratching at his back as he nails me to the floor with that perfect cock of his.
“This is mine.” He growls out, rocking into me and making me moan out loud as he shifts his angle to hit that perfect, secret spot just inside. “You’re mine.” He says thickly and dominantly as his lips crash against mine, and I know I’m lost in him as his words push me over the edge. We come screaming together, a release of everything that’s been pent up, everything that we’ve held back.
“You know, I’m only yours if you can promise me about the fights.”
I’m laying against his chest, listening to his heartbeat thudding against my ear through his skin, and I can feel him grinning. “Oh?” He says with some amusement.
I turn my head to look into his eyes “I’m serious, Logan. We really could just get aw-”
“Ok, fine.”
I arch my eyebrows. “Fine?”
“Yeah, fine, let’s get away.”
I’m grinning but still looking at him skeptically. “Just like that?”
He shrugs. “I do own a private jet, darlin. Might as well use it.”
“No, I mean, you’re saying I just convinced you? Just like that?” I’m looking at him like I’m skeptical about how easy this was.
He smirks. “Well, the hot sex and the fact that your hand is still on my cock makes a convincing argument, darlin.”
“You pig.” I say giggling.
“So, let’s go somewhere.”
“No Peyton?”
He laughs and rolls his eyes. “No Peyton. Just you and me.” He sits up a little and winks at me. “Actually, there’s a place I’ve been meaning to take you.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Logan
“Well, I think it’s a fantastic idea,” Bryce nods slowly at me from across the conference table. “Not bad, Logan, really.”
“I do have my moments, you know.” I frown, watching him grin at me.
“What’s your timeline?”
“The sooner the better, man. I’m going to ram this down the board’s throat until they either sign off on it or choke on it.”
Bryce gives me a look. “We really gotta work on your bedside manner, pal.”
I laugh. “I won’t even pretend to give a shit about diplomacy, that’s your area.” It works out well with Bryce and I. He’s the carrot, and I’m the stick.
…The stick with a chip on his shoulder, a mean right hook, and no patience for petty b
oardroom bullshit, I might add.
“It’ll get through, don’t worry.” Bryce looks up and studies my face in that strange, quiet way he does sometime that always makes me feel like he’s the oldest of us, even though it’s the opposite.
“What?”
“This is because of Akazi, isn’t it.”
My jaw tenses and I meet his eyes for moment before I look away. Even the name of that fucking place just-
“Look, sorry, I shouldn’t have ask-”
“Of course it’s because of Akazi,” I mutter, shaking my head looking at my hands in my lap.
When you look back on life, there are things that stick out as turning points. Places where the road split and you made a decision. And when I think over my own journey, there’s one single place and one single fucking moment in time that ends up defining the course of my entire life from there on out.
And that moment is Akazi, Afghanistan.
War sucks, and I don’t mean that in the slang sense of the word. I mean it in the sense that it sucks just about every single part of your soul out of you like some sort of vortex of pain and suffering and hardening of the spirit. And it’s when you’re there, amongst the flames and the heat and the death and senselessness of it all that you truly understand that war is literally hell.
We’re listening to Duran Duran’s “Hungry Like the Wolf” that day in the second Humvee when the ambush hits. You’d wonder with all the shit that happened immediately following that how I’d have possibly remembered that little detail, but it’s one of those bizarre things that’ll stick with me long after I manage to forget the rest of it. Evans, our driver, is cracking some sort of crude joke about someone’s sister while Simon Le Bon belts out a chorus through the speakers when the first Humvee in front of us just erupts into liquid fire. It fucking blooms into flame, and then it’s just gone. The chaos of the moment hits like a shot of something strong right to the head, and there’s screaming and shouting as Evans tears us off the road as metal rakes the side of the truck.
