by Noelle Adams
Allison landed in the booth across from Devon. She felt defeated.
Devon offered a sympathetic look. “I take it he hasn’t improved in the last hour.”
“Not even close.”
They ordered lunch. Allison handed her menu to the server and slumped in the padded booth. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Then don’t do anything.” Devon slid off her straw wrapper and sipped her diet soda. “Let it pass. No relationship is perfect all the time.”
“I can handle imperfection. I was married to Trevor, for God’s sake. A homeless bum would be an improvement over that.”
“Um, I wouldn’t mention that to Logan.”
Allison gave a half-hearted laugh. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful for all he’s done. Because of him, I feel a sense of safety and security I never had before. But he’s going too far. I mean, he berated me for going outside, five feet from the house.”
“Well, you know there’s been a rise in killer snowflakes recently.”
Allison smiled faintly. “That’s my point. I’m all for caution. Especially with Trevor still out there—”
“They haven’t found him yet?” Devon looked as disturbed as Allison felt.
“No.” Her spirits sank further. “Nothing yet.”
“That’s not good.”
“But it’s no reason for Logan to treat me like a captive in my own life.”
Devon’s features softened. “You know he’s just worried. Logan’s not good at worrying. He sees a problem, he solves it. Sitting this one out is probably taking a nasty toll on him, as much as you.”
“But he won’t talk about it.”
“Of course not.” Devon stared as if Allison said she wanted to squeeze orange juice from an avocado.
“You’re probably right,” Allison groused. “Still, honest communication would help. At least if he admitted what his frustration is really about, he wouldn’t direct it toward me.”
Devon stabbed the ice in her soda with her straw. “Don’t hold your breath.”
“How can we build a strong, healthy relationship when he can’t even tell me what’s really bothering him?”
“Hmm. You might need Dr. Phil for that one.”
“So we stand a better chance of getting on a national TV talk show than resolving this on our own.”
“Not necessarily,” Devon stated carefully.
“I’m open to suggestions.”
“Like I said, ride it out.”
“That’s the best you can do?” Allison asked exasperated.
“Hey, I’m a software engineer. ‘If this, then that’ coding scenarios all day long. I do linear and logical. Matters of the heart aren’t my forte, but I’m a half-decent listener.”
“I know. Thank you. It’s not your problem. I’m sorry to dump this on you.”
“Just call me the Problem Dumpster.” She grinned. “Load me up.”
Allison already felt better having vented her frustration. Lunch arrived, and she dug into her turkey-bacon wrap with pesto mayo, and a side of loaded fries.
Across from her, Devon picked at her chef salad. They ate in companionable silence. She was so glad she’d met Devon. Their friendship was irreplaceable.
As she reached for the plastic ketchup bottle, she absently glanced out the window. She stopped mid-squeeze. A man in a dark suit stood beside a car with tinted windows. She’d never forget that face, lean, angular and solemn. His appearance matched that of the man who’d come to her rescue in the underground garage. The same man who’d stood guard outside her door at the hospital.
“Oh, my God.”
“What is it?” Devon looked up, on alert. “Is Trevor here?”
“No, not Trevor.” Flashes of memories pulled together and congealed. She’d seen him before the encounter with Trevor. He’d often passed her in the hallways of Stone Security. Rode the elevator with her on numerous occasions. Left work at the same time she did. She even recalled him standing at the edge of the lobby when she encountered the inundation of gardenias. And hadn’t she seen him sitting in an unmarked car parked on the street near Logan’s driveway?
How had she not made the connection until now?
She dropped her fork. The clatter drew the attention of diners around them. “Devon. I’ve been followed.”
Devon’s eyes widened. “Trevor sent someone after you?”
“Not Trevor. Logan.”
“Okay, you lost me.”
“I can’t believe it. Logan’s had me followed. This whole time…”
“I need a little more to go on.”
“I don’t.” Allison had all the proof she needed that Logan didn’t trust her.
Trevor had done the same thing, hiring PIs to track her down, watching her every move. Waiting for her to slip up, let her guard down, so he could gain control. No matter how many evasive moves she conjured to trip him up, Trevor always found her. A predator—lurking, watching, waiting for the moment to strike.
Panic consumed her with swift, brutal force. Her heart pounded. Needles prickled across every nerve ending. Dizzy, the walls closing in, she shoved her plate away. She lunged from the booth toward the door. She raced outside, gasping for air. She needed space, openness. She could run if necessary, to escape confinement. Anything to make these horrible sensations go away.
When she exited the restaurant, the man in the suit turned toward her alertly. She grabbed her stomach. Lurching to the brick side of the restaurant, she clutched the wall and threw up. Her legs shook. Sweat broke across her brow. She just wanted it to stop. Please, stop.
A soft hand rubbed her back. “It’s okay, Allison. You’ll be all right.”
Devon’s words mirrored those of the man in the parking lot, when he’d carried her away from her confrontation with Trevor. “No.” She shook her head, holding her stomach to keep from losing more of her lunch. “It’s not okay. Call Logan.”
Within minutes, Logan swung his SUV up to the side of the restaurant.
“I don’t know what happened.” Devon’s concerned words accompanied Allison’s unsteady climb into the passenger seat. “I swear, Logan. One minute things were fine. The next, she went into a full-blown panic attack.”
“I’ve got it, Devon. Thanks.”
Her friend shut the door and Logan pulled into traffic. The congested streets ratcheted up her anxiousness. She slapped her hand over her mouth to keep from retching in his car. She hit the button to lower the window. Sweet, beautiful, moving wind hit her face.
“Relax, Allison.” Logan split his attention between her and the road. “You need to take steady breaths. Not too deep, not too fast—”
“Stop telling me what to do!” She felt sick to her core. Everything was wrong. She felt like Alice in Wonderland when she was stuck upside down on the ceiling, while life went on as normal for everyone below.
“I know how to talk someone through panic, honey.”
“You don’t know,” she said bitterly. “You don’t know me at all.”
That shut him up for the next few miles. Gradually, she talked her traitorous body down from the brink until she felt more in control.
Then she let him have it. “How dare you stick one of your watch dogs on me?”
Logan arched an eyebrow. He didn’t reply.
“Did you think I wouldn’t figure it out?”
He waited before answering. “I assessed the situation. I calculated the dangers. I did what I knew was right.”
“Bravo.” Anger swelled inside her. “You go ahead and do whatever you want. Forget about what matters to me. Forget about my needs and my choices.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I knew you wouldn’t like it, but I couldn’t be there constantly to guard you. I didn’t want to argue with you about it.”
“Because you knew I’d say no.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Right.”
“You withheld the truth.” Her eyes flashed. “You decided for me—not with me.”
> “I kept you safe. How does that make me the bad guy?”
How did he not get it? “After everything I’ve been through with Trevor, you should know better. This is not some business strategy, Logan. This is my life.”
“So I didn’t tell you.” His tone intensified. “My decision saved your life, and the baby’s. Let’s call it even and move on.”
Her hands shook as she tried to contain her fury. “You betrayed my trust, and you expect me to move on like it never happened? Like you’ll do whatever you please, and I should shut up and deal with it?”
His jaw hardened. “I did what I could to protect you—”
“To protect your baby.”
“Well, yeah.”
By removing her choice, he’d removed her from the equation. This wasn’t about her at all. She’d let herself believe he respected and cared about her, not just wrapped up in the child she carried. “If I mattered to you in any of this, you would’ve talked to me. Instead, you went behind my back as if I don’t count. Like you did when you moved me out of my apartment without my knowledge or permission. You can’t keep shoving your ideas down my throat and expecting me to swallow them with no questions asked!”
Exhaling, he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “Okay, I get it. Point taken.” He shook his head. “I don’t get why you’re so upset.”
“I’m starting to see that.” It was a depressing discovery.
“What’s done is done. I can’t take it back.”
“Would you? If you could do it over, would you make the same choice to exclude me from choices about my life?”
He stared hard at a point in the distance. “Considering the outcome…probably.”
“Then there’s nothing more to talk about.”
Liquid heartbreak welled in her eyes. Any hope she had of reaching Logan, of him changing his MO out of respect and understanding, crumbled. Her chest felt hollow, like she’d been scraped raw. The dreams and hopeful images of the future floated away like bright balloons into distant nothingness.
Blinking rapidly, she refused to cry. She fought the devastation sweeping through her. He’d removed every choice except one. She knew what she had to do.
Logan pulled into his driveway. He took the curves slow, mounting the hill at the top. The second he cut the engine, Allison climbed out and slammed the door.
Frowning, Logan watched her disappear into the house. He didn’t like where this was heading. She’d made him out to be some self-centered jerk, when everything he’d done was to keep her safe.
Why didn’t she trust him?
Moving her in with him was a no-brainer. Yeah, he probably should’ve told her about the extra detail he’d put on her. Which he only did because he couldn’t be her bodyguard every second of the day. His choice had saved her and their baby from Trevor.
Why couldn’t she accept that he’d made the right call?
He wasn’t perfect, but if he had one talent to his name, he knew how to keep people safe. She conveniently ignored his valid concerns. Instead of understanding, even a trace of gratitude, she’d handed him empty accusations. Worst of all, she’d put him in the same scumbag league as her ex. He didn’t deserve that slap in the face.
He entered through the garage, threw his keys on the kitchen counter. He roughly discarded his coat and called to her. “Allison, we need to talk.”
She showed up minutes later with a suitcase in hand. “For now, you’ve said all I need to hear.”
His gaze fixed on the suitcase. Its significance triggered a rising tide of volatile emotion. “That’s it. You’re leaving.”
“I wanted a life with you, Logan. Not a golden cage.” The hurt in her eyes twisted his insides.
“This is not over.”
“Sorry,” she returned, “you’ve used up your chances to make decisions for us. From now on, my choices count, too. I’m not going to be a bystander in my own life.”
He spread his arms. “You’re blowing this all out of proportion.”
She gave him a steely stare. “Am I?”
“Yes, damn it. I’m not Trevor.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
Rage exploded in him. “Don’t you dare compare me to him.” He spoke through clenched teeth. “I’m not the enemy here, Allison.”
“You’re not acting like my partner. I won’t be ordered around to satisfy your need for control.”
His face went hot. “I have never controlled you.”
“I need time apart. To figure out if we have anything left worth saving between us.”
That hit him like a punch to the chest. For a second, he couldn’t breathe. “Why are you punishing me for doing what I’m best at?”
She looked away.
“Allison, I make a thousand judgment calls a day.” He was the CEO for a reason, and he was good at his job. “Do you expect me to stop before I decide anything and run it past you?”
“Only the decisions that affect me.”
“If that’s your criteria, then by all rights everything needs your stamp of approval. Because what I do, every day, affects my life with you. You’re a part of me.”
A tear slid loose, gliding down her cheek. “There has to be a balance, Logan. We need a separation. To figure out where we can compromise. If we can compromise.”
Angry and hurt and frustrated, he lost his temper. “Compromise? You’ve already packed your bags. I should’ve figured this was coming. The going gets tough, someone gets too close, and Allison runs. That’s why you keep your shit in boxes. You need your freedom so goddamn bad, you can’t see when something’s worth sticking around for.” He whipped his arm toward the door. “Fine. Keep running. I’m done chasing something that doesn’t want to be caught.”
Her face went white. “That’s not fair.”
“You want to talk about not fair? I’ve given you everything. I don’t understand what the hell you want from me!”
The hurt and sadness in her eyes pummeled him. “I hope someday you will.”
It felt like everything he’d ever wanted was slipping through his hands. His heart shredded. Stubborn, selfish pride took hold. Instead of saying I love you, stay, he retaliated. “When you walk out that door, we’re over.”
“I’d hoped what we mean to each other was stronger than ultimatums.” Another tear, then another cascaded down her face. “I was wrong.”
Then she left.
The click of the front door latch sounded like a cannon.
This wasn’t happening.
“Fuck.” His shout echoed through his house like a bullet shattering stained glass. “Fuck!”
He paced every square inch of his home. He bit his thumb nail down to the quick. He didn’t even know what the hell he was trying to figure out.
All he knew was he had just watched his future walk out the door. And he wasn’t sure he could get it back.
Eleven
Logan spent the next thirty-six hours straight at work.
He didn’t go home. He didn’t shave. He took showers at the nearby gym after working out. He wore jeans and long-sleeved t-shirts, told the receptionists to hold his calls or take messages. The rare moments he left the confines of his office, he glared at anyone who approached him.
He became a recluse in his own life.
He didn’t stop to care.
Work had piled up while he’d been home taking care of Allison. He had enough to keep him preoccupied for weeks, if necessary. Anything to escape the emptiness growing inside him.
The sky darkened behind him as he hunched over his desk, absorbed in concentration. Sometime after sunset, his office door sailed open.
He didn’t bother looking up. “Go away.”
“You look like something my cat hoarked up last night.”
Logan glared at Rick beneath the shelf of his brows. “A disgusting, hairy blob of puke. I’m touched.”
“Don’t forget the mouse entrails.”
Logan dropped his pen. “Do you need some
thing? Or did you run out of people to annoy?”
Rick sighed regretfully. “Everyone else went home. It’s eight o’clock on a Friday night. So yeah, you’re it.”
“Go home to your wife and your happy life. Leave me alone.”
“Vivi has friends over for a scrapbooking party.” He shuddered. “I’d rather hang out with rattlesnakes.”
“Keep bugging me, that’s what you’ll get.”
“Yeah, yeah. All rattle and no bite.”
Logan shot to his feet. “Try me.”
Rick slanted him a look. “You’re the crankiest son-of-a-bitch when your heart’s broken.”
“Nothing’s broken,” Logan muttered. Decimated, pulverized, reduced to a pathetic heap, maybe. But not broken. No one would break him.
“When was the last time you slept?”
“Don’t remember.”
“When’s the last time you had a beer?”
“Too long.”
Rick nodded toward the door. “I’ve got a twelve pack of winter lager, your favorite microbrew. Let’s hit your place, shoot some pool. It’s been a long time since we hung out.”
“Not in the mood.”
“Dude, you’d be doing me a huge favor. I mean, scrapbooking? C’mon, you’d really leave me to that horrific fate?”
Logan scratched his unshaven jaw. “You know you’re bad off when your only alternative is me.”
Rick eyed at him solemnly. “I’ll owe you.”
“Fine.” Logan exhaled. “I was sick of signing my name for the thousandth time anyway.”
“Thanks, man. You’re a lifesaver.”
At least someone appreciated Logan’s skills in that arena.
After a few hours, and more than a few beers, he felt less like cat vomit and more like himself. Except for the monster-truck-sized hole in his chest where his heart used to beat. They shot pool, best out of six. Logan won, as usual. For a guy with sniper training, Rick was a lousy shot on the pool table. It felt good to win at something. Since he’d just lost the most important thing in his life.
“Heavy thoughts, my friend.” Rick knew him way too well. His friend dragged out a kitchen stool and sat at the counter while Logan rummaged for food. “Care to share?”
