by Lisa Childs
“After you shot him?”
The older man nodded. “I respected your father. He was a good man. I promised him that I would never hurt his wife or kids.”
“But you promised Kozminski the exact opposite.”
“They’re Kozminskis,” he said, as if that justified his actions. “They’re all criminals.”
“Stacy isn’t. She’s my fiancée.”
“She wasn’t when I set the bomb in her place or when I shot at her at the cemetery. I was sure the old man would have told her the truth, that he wouldn’t have wanted to die with his baby girl believing he was a killer.”
She was more loyal than that. “She never believed it,” Logan said. And he should have trusted her instincts sooner.
“She’s a stubborn woman,” Robert remarked. “She’s going to be a challenge as a wife.”
Getting her to be his wife would be the challenge. But Logan had a bigger challenge at the moment—getting the loaded shotgun out of Robert Cooper’s reach before he used it. But before he could move toward it, the old man grabbed it, aimed and fired.
Chapter Nineteen
Stacy’s scream echoed the gunshot.
But this time Milek and Garek held her back from rushing toward the house—toward Robert Cooper’s cabin. Garek reminded her, “He warned us that Cooper could have rigged his place with a bomb.”
That was why they’d picked up Cujo from the kennel and brought him along. Parker had snuck him in the back door while Logan had calmly walked in the front to confront his father’s killer.
Had he become the man’s most recent victim?
Her heart pounded frantically. And she trembled. She couldn’t lose Logan. He wasn’t just her fake fiancé. He was the love of her life. When he finally stepped out onto the porch, she wanted to run to him, wanted to throw her arms around him and never let go.
But she couldn’t move. Her legs kept shaking. She had to wait until he walked down to her and her brothers. Her breath caught as she noticed that blood spattered his handsome face. “Are you—” she stammered. “Are you all right?”
He ran his hand over his face and smeared the blood. “Yeah, it’s all over now. He killed himself.”
“Is it all over now?” Parker asked as he brought Cujo around from the back of the house.
“Did that damn dog find another bomb?” Garek asked.
Parker shook his head. “No, but the old cop denied ever trying to kill Logan.”
Logan snorted. “And you believe him?”
“He admitted to everything else,” Parker said. “Why lie about that?”
“Because he’s the person who killed our father and framed another man for it,” Logan replied.
“Why didn’t our dad tell the truth?” Garek asked.
Logan glanced at Stacy. “Because he was threatened.”
“What more could Cooper do to him?” Milek wondered.
“Take away his family,” Logan said. “He threatened to kill all of you if your father didn’t keep his secret.”
The color fled from Garek’s face, leaving him pale and shaky. “He really did love us.”
She squeezed his arm. “All of us,” she said. “He loved all of us.”
“Why’d the crazy cop kill him now?” Milek asked.
Logan grimaced. And she worried that he’d re-injured himself. But then he said, “It was my fault. If I hadn’t fought his parole…”
He blamed himself…like she had been blaming him for years. But she couldn’t do that anymore. Her brothers, however, didn’t love Logan like she did.
“You got him killed,” Garek accused him. “It’s all your fault!”
Parker stepped forward with a snarling Cujo. “Take that back. Logan has risked his life over and over to save Stacy’s. He loves her.”
If only that were true…
But apparently Logan didn’t share that infamous psychic connection with his twin.
“It’s okay,” Logan said with a reassuring pat on Cujo’s head. “I understand…”
“I think you were right,” Parker said. “I think these guys are behind the attempts on your life.”
Was that true? Had Robert Cooper really not shot at Logan? Had that been one of her brothers?
“It could have been Aunt Marta,” she offered.
Parker nodded. “Could have been. The forensics haven’t come back on her gun yet.”
But Marta really had no reason to avenge her brother-in-law’s death. She hadn’t cared about him; she’d only cared about keeping her husband and her lifestyle. It could have been her brothers. “Or it could have been that Candace woman,” Stacy suggested—a bit desperately. She couldn’t lose another member of her family. “She’s been desperate to protect you…”
“She was with me the first time I was shot at,” Logan remarked. “It wasn’t her.”
And it probably wasn’t. She would have tried to kill Stacy but not the man she loved.
“So what you’re saying is that there’s someone out there still—someone who wants to kill you?” Stacy asked as she realized that she was bound to lose Logan.
*
SOMEONE WANTED HIM DEAD.
His future brothers-in-law or someone else?
It wasn’t Candace. She stood before him now, her letter of resignation on his desk between them. He had no idea when she’d left it there. This was his first time back in the office—the afternoon after his father’s killer had killed himself.
“Is this what you want?” he asked.
“I can’t have what I want.” Her face flushed as she must have realized how her remark sounded.
“I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. “No. I should have known that you only saw me as an employee.”
“And a friend,” he corrected her.
“You never looked at me the way you look at Stacy, the way you looked at her even before your engagement,” she said with a wistful sigh. “You love her.”
He did love her. “Is that why you’re giving me this?” He pointed at the letter.
She shook her head. “I figured she told you and that neither of you would want me working for you anymore.”
“I don’t want to lose one of the best damn guards I’ve ever had.” He ripped up the resignation. “Will you stay on?”
She nodded. “I’ve heard you still need protection yourself. Your father’s old partner claims he wasn’t the one taking the shots at you.” Parker must have filled her in.
“O’Doyle from the ATF doesn’t think he set the second bomb, either.”
“The one at Parker’s?”
He nodded.
“Do you think her brothers are behind it?” she asked.
He hoped not. But he’d called them to his office, too. They passed Candace on her way out. Garek whistled at her, which elicited a glare.
“You must have a death wish,” Logan remarked. “She could easily kill you.”
“It might be fun to go out that way,” he murmured appreciatively.
Milek grabbed his brother’s arm and tugged him fully into Logan’s office. “We’re not here for fun.”
“No, we’re here for an interrogation,” Garek surmised. “Let me spare you the inquisition. It’s not us. We’re not trying to kill you.”
“Someone is,” Logan said.
“You proved it wasn’t the dirty cop?”
He nodded.
“Then you know what you have to do,” Garek said.
“Of course,” Logan replied. “I have to find out whoever’s after me.”
“You have to let Stacy go,” Garek corrected him. “As long as you’re still in danger, so is she.”
Milek sighed and ruefully agreed. “He’s right. Someone could accidentally shoot her while they’re trying to hit you.”
Logan flinched as he realized that they made sense. He was putting her in danger.
“You promised to keep her safe,” Garek reminded him.
“And if you love her as much as I think
you do,” Milek said, “I think you know what you have to do.”
Let her go…
The words were ringing in his head when he rang the bell at the front of her store. The gate was down yet, covering the door and windows. But she opened up the door, then unlocked and lifted the gate with his help. Metal screeched as it rose high enough for him to duck through the open door with her and Cujo, who stayed by her side. Like Logan wished he could.
Her shop was as vibrant and vivacious as she was—filled with sparkling stones and gleaming metals. Necklaces and earrings and bracelets dangled from displays on the counter. And inside the display cases, smaller pieces glittered and shone, drawing his attention.
“You made all these?” he asked, awed by her talent.
She nodded.
“They’re beautiful.” One piece in particular piqued his interest. A diamond sparkled between two rubies in a band of braided yellow gold. He would have liked to have slid that ring on her finger someday—when he proposed for real.
But he couldn’t give her a ring now. Not when he had to end their engagement.
“That’s my favorite,” she said, her breath soft on his cheek as she leaned close to him to stare into the display with him.
He wanted to turn his head. He wanted to kiss her. Heck, he wanted to do more than kiss her. He wanted to carry her upstairs to her apartment and make love to her.
But if he touched her again, he wouldn’t have the strength to do what needed to be done for her protection. He closed his eyes and held his breath, unable to look at her or breathe in her sweet, flowery scent.
She moved away from him, and the loss of the heat of her closeness chilled him. She shivered, too, as she walked away. “I know why you’re here,” she said.
“You do?”
Had her brothers warned her?
She nodded. “You’re pretty obvious.”
Could she see how much he wanted her? How much he needed her?
“I am?”
“You’re breaking our engagement,” she said.
Then he wasn’t obvious at all. But he had to admit, “I think it’s for the best.”
Her head jerked in a sharp nod. “It’s not like it was real anyway.”
Pain jabbed his chest—his heart specifically—and he gasped at the intensity of it. It may not have been real to her, but it had felt real to him.
“So it’s what you want, too…”
“It was never supposed to be real,” she said. “It was just supposed to stop the attempts on your life.”
While there hadn’t been one since Robert Cooper had killed himself, Logan was certain he was still being followed. Stalked. He couldn’t risk her safety until he knew for sure that no one would try to kill him again and, as her brothers had pointed out, maybe inadvertently hit Stacy instead.
But he couldn’t say goodbye completely. He couldn’t just walk away…with nothing. “That ring in there.” He pointed toward the case. “I want to buy that from you.”
“It’s not for sale,” she said.
“Your business must not do that well if you refuse to part with the merchandise,” he teased.
She stared wistfully at the ring. “I told you that’s my favorite piece.”
And that was why he wanted it—to remember her and how much he’d wanted to put that ring on her finger. But having it would probably just prove a painful reminder of what he’d lost. Even if he wasn’t still in danger, they wouldn’t have a future—if she couldn’t forgive him for his part in her father’s death. “Never mind then.”
Reluctant to leave, he reached down to pet Cujo. The dog flopped onto his side, encouraging Logan to rub his belly, too. He obliged. “You were the best backup I ever had,” he said, “you saved my life more than once.”
“And mine,” Stacy said.
He’d stalled long enough, so Logan headed toward the door. But he hadn’t made it very far before she called out, “Wait!”
He tensed, uncertain what he would do if she wanted him to stay. He couldn’t put her at risk. But he would never be able to resist her, either.
He heard the jingling of keys as she opened the display case. Then she was beside him, pressing something into his hand. His skin heated from the tantalizing contact with hers. But before he could grab her hand and hold on to her, she pulled free and stepped away from him. He opened his palm and stared down at the diamond-and-ruby ring.
“I thought it wasn’t for sale,” he said.
“It’s not,” she said. “I don’t want you to pay me for it. I just want you to have it.”
He stared down at it and now the longing was all his. He wanted it, but he wanted it on her finger.
She uttered a shaky chuckle. “I don’t know what you’re going to do with it. Give it to your mom?”
She wasn’t the woman he wanted to wear it. He could only imagine it on one woman’s hand. He offered it back. “It’s your favorite piece. You should keep it.”
She shook her head. “I want you to have it—in appreciation.”
“Appreciation?”
“Cujo wasn’t the only one who saved my life more than once,” she said. “You did, too.”
“I was the one who put you in danger,” he said. “It was my fault.” And that was why he couldn’t put that ring on her finger. But he would keep it. He closed his fingers around the metal and stones and headed for the door.
She murmured, “It was easier to hate you.”
He turned back to ask her, “Easier than what?” and he noticed the tears glistening in her smoky-gray eyes. Cujo moved closer to her, as if offering comfort. And as if realizing that it was Logan’s fault that she was upset, he uttered a low growl at him.
She shook her head, refusing to answer him.
“Hate me again, then,” he said, hoping that hating him would stop her tears. “Remember that it’s my fault you lost your father. It was because of my need for justice.” He shook his head. “It wasn’t justice. You were right. I wanted revenge.”
But now the revenge was on him—because he was the one who’d lost everything. And if he didn’t find out soon who was after him, he might even lose his life.
Chapter Twenty
It had been so much easier to hate him than to love him like she did. Through the tears stinging her eyes, she could barely see Amber standing on the other side of the display case. She’d immediately called her after Logan left. Her friend’s beautiful face was now twisted into a grimace of sympathy. And Stacy began to cry again.
“Why didn’t you tell him how you feel about him?” Amber asked. “It’s obvious how much you love him.”
Stacy shook her head, refusing to admit to feelings that weren’t reciprocated. “Ignore this,” she said, gesturing toward her wet face. “I’m just on emotional overload. It’s been so crazy that I never had the chance to mourn my father.”
“So your tears are for him?”
They should have been. He hadn’t been the perfect man she’d thought he had been, but he’d been a better man than many had believed. An innocent man. Relatively…
A pang of guilt struck her already aching heart, and she shook her head. “I’m just an emotional mess.”
“Are you…”
She tried to focus on her friend again. “What?”
Amber arched a brow. “Could you be…?”
She froze in shock as she realized that her friend thought she could be pregnant. And it dawned on Stacy that she very well could be. They hadn’t used protection any time they’d made love.
“You could be,” Amber answered her own question. “What will you do if you are?”
She loved Amber, but she wouldn’t do what she had. She wouldn’t keep her child from his father. “I promised Logan no more secrets.”
“So then you’ve already told him that you love him,” Amber said.
And another pang of guilt struck Stacy. She was still keeping one secret from him.
Amber chuckled. “So you’ve not been entirely h
onest with him.”
Stacy shrugged. “I am not going to tell him that I love him when I know that he doesn’t love me.”
“Are you sure about that?”
She nodded. “Definitely.”
“Because I saw the way he protected you—”
“That’s just his job,” Stacy said. “That’s who he is—a bodyguard. A lawman.”
“I think you should tell him how you feel,” Amber persisted.
“I haven’t always agreed with your decisions, either,” Stacy reminded her. “But I’ve supported you.”
Amber sighed. “I hope you don’t regret your decision.”
Did Amber regret hers?
Before she could ask, the door to the shop opened. Her pulse quickened as she glanced up, hoping it was Logan, hoping that he’d changed his mind and had come back to propose for real.
But it was her brothers.
Amber’s face turned a mottled shade of red and she averted her gaze from Milek. But he spared her only a glance. His focus was on Stacy. So was Garek’s, his gray eyes dark with concern and fear.
She shuddered. They had never looked at her like that before, not even when she’d told them that their father had died. Her stomach dropped with dread, and she lifted a hand to her mouth to hold back a sob.
“No, no…” Then she forced herself to drag in a deep breath, forced herself to calm down, because she wanted them to tell her the truth. She had to know. “Is he dead? Is Logan dead?”
Amber gasped and grabbed her arm, silently offering her support. But Garek stepped closer and pulled her into his arms. Stacy slammed her hands into his chest, pushing him back.
“Tell me! Tell me!”
“You didn’t see the news?” Milek asked.
It played out on a small screen in the corner of the store, but she had muted the volume. She glanced up at it and saw that the news had broken into regular programming. Crews filmed outside a familiar-looking brick building, smoke rising up from an SUV burning at the curb nearly obliterated the sign on the building. But she discerned that the words on the sign spelled out Payne Protection Agency.
The volume was off but the report streamed on the bottom. “Explosion believed to be car bomb. Two confirmed casualties. One injured en route to the hospital.”
