Logan (A Cocky Cage Fighter Novel)

by Lane Hart

  COPYRIGHT

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue were created from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual people or events is coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the copyrighted and trademarked status of various products within this work of fiction.

  © 2018 Editor's Choice Publishing

  All Rights Reserved.

  Only Amazon has permission from the publisher to sell and distribute this title.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Editor’s Choice Publishing

  P.O. Box 10024

  Greensboro, NC 27404

  Edited by Angela Snyder

  Cover design © Cassy Roop of Pink Ink Designs

  WARNING: THIS BOOK CONTAINS ADULT LANGUAGE AND EXPLICIT SEX SCENES.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  While Logan’s story can certainly be read as a standalone, you may recognize him as Page’s brother who initially appeared in JAX, the first novel in the Cocky Cage Fighter series.

  If you have not read any of my fighter books but want to, you can start with JAX for free! Usually it’s free on Amazon, but they occasionally adjust prices without giving author’s notice, so click on the link below to download Jax for free from Bookfunnel.

  I hope you enjoy!

  GET A FREE COPY OF JAX!

  Chapter One

  Logan Davenport

  The buzzing of my cell phone dancing across the wooden desk interrupts my search and seizure research. I loved being in the courtroom with my brother-in-law Jax a few years ago, so I thought criminal law would be more exciting than patent law. That’s why, when my father retired, I left and decided to come work here at Anderson & Chambers.

  Boy, was I wrong.

  So far, all I do is sit behind a desk all day with an endless backlog of research waiting for me. I wanted a chance to help people, but all I do here is remain in the background. Besides, all the guys the firm represents are rich, shady, white collar criminals, not innocent men who were wrongly accused like Jax.

  A quick glance at my phone’s screen and I see my sister’s name, along with a picture of her and my four-year-old nephew, Xavier.

  “Hey, Page,” I answer.

  “Logan! Thank god I got you,” she says with a heavy exhale. My back straightens in my desk chair since my sister rarely uses my real name unless it’s important, preferring to use Logie, the childhood nickname she gave me.

  “What’s up?” I ask.

  “I just talked to Sadie, and she needs a huge legal favor.”

  “Okay?” I ask, wondering what Sadie, my sister’s soon to be sister-in-law, might need down in North Carolina where she’s going to school.

  “Her best friend, Brayden, is in jail, and Jax won’t let me leave the house since I’m still running a fever.”

  “I thought you were feeling better,” I say in concern since my sister is also seven months pregnant with their second kid, a little girl this time.

  “Well, yeah, I was, but I went back to the doctor, and they did a chest x-ray. It turns out that my summer cold developed into bronchitis.”

  “Damn, that sucks, Page. Anything I can do?” I ask, and then feel stupid since that’s why she called.

  “Yeah, can you go bail Brayden out?”

  “Ah, sure,” I concede after mentally scanning over my schedule for the next two days to make sure there’s nothing that can’t wait. Sighing, I say, “Just tell me where to go; and once I get my vacation approved, I’ll go home and pack a bag.”

  I reach for a pen to jot down the address on a post-it note. I’m ready to write when I notice Page’s continued silence. “Page?” I ask. “Where is she?”

  “She’s in jail in Cancun.”

  “Cancun! As in Mexico?” I exclaim.

  “Brayden and a few friends were down there celebrating summer break.”

  “What am I supposed to do in Mexico? I can’t practice law there,” I remind her. “Do they even have attorneys in Mexico? I thought all the cops were crooks who you just had to pay off.”

  “I don’t know, but her father is a big-time lawyer with plenty of money, so whatever you have to pay, I’m sure he’ll compensate you…”

  “Who’s her father?” I ask curiously, wondering why he isn’t going down to get her himself.

  “Walter Chambers,” Page says, and I can practically hear her cringing through the phone line.

  “Hold on a second,” I tell her.

  Laying my cell phone down on a stack of files, I slam my forehead into my desk a few times before I finally pick it back up.

  “You do know Walter Chambers is my boss, right?” I ask even though it’s obvious.

  “Yes,” she answers timidly.

  “So why isn’t he going down to Mexico to get his own damn daughter?”

  “I dunno. Sadie wasn’t sure. He just told her flat out that he doesn’t have time to clean up Brayden’s latest mess. Maybe you could go talk to him?” Page suggests. “Please? I bet there will be major brownie points in this for you!”

  “I’ve only been at the firm for six months. You think I’ll get brownie points for going up to the eighth floor and asking one of the senior partners why he’s willing to let his daughter rot in a Mexican jail cell? Oh, and if I can miss work to go get her?”

  “You don’t have to talk to him…” she trails off.

  “Yes, I do. I can’t take a vacation to get involved in his family’s mess unless he’s okay with it,” I argue through clenched teeth. “Out of all the Girls Gone Wild running around the beach, why did they have to lock up this particular girl?”

  “No idea. None of Brayden’s friends that Sadie talked to know what happened, only that they didn’t have enough money to get her out before their plane left yesterday coming back to NYU.”

  “So, these wonderful friends just left her alone in a foreign country?” I ask in disbelief.

  “Help her, Logie-Wan Kenobi. You’re her only hope,” Page says, quoting Star Wars with the use of the nickname she gave me when we were kids.

  “If Chambers approves this, and that’s a big if, then I’ll do it,” I reluctantly agree.

  “Thanks, Logan,” Page responds, ending the call before I can change my mind.

  I’m still shaking my head in disbelief of the things I do for my sister when I stand up and slip my black suit jacket back on. On the way to the elevator banks, I make sure my tie is straight as an arrow.

  The conversation I’m about to have with the man up
stairs could set me back years in making partner in the firm. Still, I told Page I would at least give it a try, so I step onto the elevator when the doors open and press the number eight to take me up.

  When I find Walter Chambers’ secretary on the phone behind her desk that’s just outside his closed office doors, I patiently wait for her to hang up.

  “Hi, can I help you?” she eventually asks, not even recognizing me as an employee of the firm since I’m so new. There are probably a hundred lawyers in the building.

  “Hi. I’m Logan Davenport. I work down on the fourth floor doing legal research in the criminal division. I need to talk to Mr. Chambers, if he has a few minutes,” I explain.

  “Mr. Chambers is very busy–” she starts to blow me off before I interrupt.

  “It’s about his daughter Brayden, and it’s pretty urgent.”

  The secretary’s mouth forms an O of understanding, and then she holds up her index finger. “Just a second,” she says. Picking up her phone, I assume she’s buzzing the boss’s office. My theory is confirmed when she says, “Mr. Chambers. I know you said not to bother you, but there’s an associate here who wants to speak to you about your daughter. Yes, sir.” Hanging up the receiver, she says to me, “You may go on in.”

  “Great, thanks,” I tell her as I march up to the double doors and knock before turning the handle to enter. I’m expecting the man to be in a piss-poor mood after hearing the news about his daughter being in jail.

  “Logan! Betty didn’t say it was you,” Walter Chambers exclaims with a smile as he stands up from behind his desk to come around and shake my hand.

  “She probably didn’t remember my name,” I explain, glad that he at least knows who I am.

  “I bet you’re right,” he agrees with a good-natured laugh, not at all the sad, angry father I was expecting. “Have a seat and tell me what brings you up here. Or more specifically, tell me what my daughter has done now.”

  “Well, sir, I take it you’ve heard that she’s been arrested in Mexico?”

  “Yes, of course,” he answers with a sigh as he rubs a hand down his red tie. “Awful timing too. This afternoon I have a big golf fundraiser for Alzheimer’s starting, and it’s going to last all through the weekend. Not to mention Marcus is out of town, so I need to be here in the city in case any office matters arise.”

  “Sure, sure,” I agree even though all that sounds like weak excuses for not helping his daughter. I haven’t even met the girl, but I’m starting to feel sorry for her. “I know you’re extremely busy, sir, but I’m caught up on my research, and Brayden is a friend to my sister’s in-laws. I’m sure you remember Sadie and Jude. So, if you don’t mind letting me take a few days off, I can go down to Cancun to see what I can do about getting her out.”

  “Absolutely. That is, if you’re certain it won’t be an inconvenience for you,” he replies.

  An inconvenience? Really? A young girl is sitting in a shithole without anyone there to help her.

  “None at all,” I assure Mr. Chambers. “In fact, I’ll try to get a flight out this afternoon.”

  “That would be fantastic, Logan. Anything you need in the process, just let Betty know, okay?”

  Let Betty, his assistant know, meaning he doesn’t give a shit.

  “Sure,” I say as I get to my feet and shake his hand again so that I can get moving.

  “And Logan,” Walter calls out when I grab the door handle. I turn back to him, and he says, “Don’t make a big stink about this family mess to anyone; and when you get back, we’ll sit down and talk more about your path to partnership.”

  “Great,” I reply with a nod and a smile to hide my annoyance. While making partner is my ultimate goal, I can’t believe the man doesn’t seem more upset about the situation with his daughter.

  After I grab my briefcase from my office, I take the elevator down to the parking garage and call Page back.

  There are several coughs in my ear before she says, “Logan?”

  “Looks like I’m going on vacay,” I tell her.

  “Yay! Thanks, Logie!

  “Yeah, yeah. You owe me!” I tell her. “I’m talking…well, I don’t know what I want from you yet. I’ll have to think it over and make it good.”

  “Anything,” she says. “You know my husband is loaded, right?”

  Chuckling, I shake my head. “Good, ’cause I’m sending you the bill for this little trip,” I tease. “Chambers doesn’t seem too thrilled I brought it up to him, but he did say he’ll be willing to talk to me about the partnership track when I get back.”

  “See, totally worth the headache. I’ll send you all the information Sadie has for Brayden.”

  “Sounds good. And tell my nephew his favorite uncle said hello,” I tell Page.

  “Don’t let Jude hear you say that!” Page laughs, which turns into a hacking cough, making me feel terrible.

  “Get better, Page,” I say to her, then hang up so that she can catch her breath.

  It looks like my boring day filled with legal research is turning out to be a little more exciting than I expected.

  Chapter Two

  Brayden Chambers

  My legs went numb hours, maybe days ago. It’s hard to figure how much time has passed since I’ve been in a constant state of darkness ever since the two police officers tossed me in here. Thankfully, they haven’t been back.

  And while it’s so dark I can’t exactly see how dirty the small, cramped space is, my imagination has been running away from me just based on the gag-worthy smells of urine and vomit.

  I don’t dare try to stretch my legs out on the disgusting concrete floor to get my circulation back. It’s bad enough that the bottom of my dress is touching the filthy surface.

  My stomach gave up the good fight and stopped growling when it became obvious that there was no food available. On the other hand, if someone doesn’t bring me some water soon, this hellhole may be the last place my ass ever sits. I try to wet my lips, but they’re so dry and cracked that it hurts to even touch them. But I won’t cry out for help no matter how bad things get.

  I have my pride, if nothing else. The asshole tried to take that from me too, but he can’t have it. It’s all I have left. Besides, yelling and crying wouldn’t do me any good in here.

  Perhaps dying wouldn’t be the worst way to go right now if it means no more of that controlling son of a bitch telling me what to do, constantly watching my every move and interfering in my life.

  I’m not sure what I did to deserve to be treated in such a shitty way by a man; but after five years, I’ve become fully aware of the fact that there is no respite from him. Ever.

  For as long as I’m alive, he’s going to make my life hell. That’s what he apparently gets off on.

  So, with my arms wrapped around my raised knees, I rest my chin on top of them and close my eyes to dream myself into a better place, one where the devil doesn’t exist. It’s the only thing I can do for now.

  …

  “Open the door!”

  The masculine words, the first ones I’ve heard in English since I’ve been here, make my eyes fly open.

  Another voice responds to him in Spanish saying something I can’t understand.

  “Open…abre…ah, la puerta! Now! Ahora!” the American man shouts, struggling with his translation but also sounding determined.

  His demand must work because I hear the clatter of keys. When the door opens, the light shining into my small room is blinding, so I put my hands in front of my face to try and block it.

  While my still squinting eyes can’t make out any faces, I do hear the American curse under his breath. A shadow of one of the men falls on me. Then, he’s lifting me off the ground gently with his arms under my legs and back. I’m too weak to even try to fight him. For all I know he could be carrying me off to one of those horrible sex trafficking rings, but right now, getting off that floor that smells like death is the best I can hope for.

  The jacket of the man c
arrying me smells so dramatically different from what’s been under my nose for days, delicious like dry cleaning and an expensive cologne. I grab two handfuls and bury my face into the fabric to inhale deeply while he carries me. For the respite he’s provided, he can take me anywhere he wants.

  “I’ve got you,” he murmurs softly to me. “You’re safe now. I’m gonna take care of you.”

  If there was any moisture left in my body, I’m sure my eyes would tear up at his reassuring words. They’re nice to hear, even if they’re probably lies.

  “Thank you,” I whisper since that’s all my dry throat is capable of at the moment.

  Chapter Three

  Logan

  The greedy fuckers tried to play hardball with me when I first came into the jail; but after I coughed up over a grand and they were still wishy-washy about letting Brayden out, I lost my cool.

  And I never lose my cool.

  There’s just something so goddamn wrong about a government that allows bribes and shit to happen without any constitutional rights for the accused. They don’t care if the people they arrest are guilty or innocent. When they spot an American tourist, all they see are dollar signs.

  My brief moment of triumph that I was finally able to convince them to let me see Brayden was eradicated like an atomic blast as soon as I laid eyes on her. I had never truly been horrified in my life until that moment. There she was, all beautiful, feminine and delicate cowering on that repulsive floor in a space no bigger than a broom closet. Actually, I’m pretty sure my broom closet is twice that size.

  Not giving a shit about the jailors or their shady negotiations, I scooped her up and strolled out of that filth with a glare at the two men, daring them to try and stop me.

  While I didn’t expect for her to be living a life of luxury in jail, I had no idea how bad off she was.

  I’m not sure how long she was there, but Brayden feels like nothing but skin and bones in my arms. She needs to eat and drink something soon, or our next stop will be the emergency room. And I would hate for her to have to endure any medical care in this country on top of everything else.