GRIZ: A Dark Bad Boy Romance (Chained Angels MC)

by Nicole Fox

  And most of it was Francesca’s influence.

  But he would try anyway, try to force thoughts of her away for a moment or two to give himself some peace.

  Overall, Logan had a pretty good life; for the first time ever, he had considerable money in the bank, a thriving repair business, and his people loyal. Most of them still lived in the old warehouse, even though they could now afford apartments in the area. That sort of loyalty to him filled him with a feeling he couldn’t describe.

  “If everything is so wonderful, why can’t I get Francesca out of my head?” He wondered how much longer the pain would linger, how much longer it would take him to move on.

  Standing up from his desk, Logan milled around the room, pondering over his next moves. There was quiet knock at the door, and Logan let them in with a growl. “What is it?”

  The door opened, revealing Blade. Nothing had really changed about her in the months since Logan had come back, but there was an air of something new in her. It was like finding herself a business woman on the right side of the law had made her stand up a little straighter.

  “We’re good to go on the Christmas thingy, boss. The Callie Project has agreed to work with us,” Blade said without preamble, walking into Logan’s office with that her shoulders back and her eyes determined. “We’ll get the project off of the ground by December 1st.”

  “Perfect; thanks, Blade. I owe you one for taking care of that for me.”

  “Anything else I can do for you, boss?” She flipped her long, half-shaved hair out of her face with a practiced motion. There was a frown on her leathery face.

  Sighing, Logan leaned back in his chair, his eyes locking on Blade’s. “Is there something you wanna say to me?”

  She made a face and shrugged. “That depends on whether you’re thinking about going to visit Nevada this holiday season or not, I guess.”

  Logan winced. “I’m not planning any trips anywhere, Blade. And it would be best if you didn’t bring it up again.” Blade shrugged, closing the office door behind herself, leaving Logan alone with his memories again. The memories of Francesca’s perfect white skin. The gentle part between her cupid’s bow lips as she moaned his name. The way her hands —

  Better stop thinking like that. It was hard enough to get anything done with Francesca haunting his mind all the time; remembering the times he spent warming her bed wouldn’t make anything better.

  As though his thinking of her brought it on, Logan’s phone buzzed with the sound of chiming bells. It was Francesca’s unique ringtone. Sweating, Logan reached for the phone with fingers that shook.

  “First pictures of the baby; it’s a boy. :)”

  And Pierces heart collapsed, turning into a black hole in his chest. The ultrasounds looked like blobs of an unfinished sculpture to Logan’s untrained eye, but he knew there was a child in there somewhere. His child. He saved the photos in his phone without replying, returning to the lifeless, colorless world he now lived in. Before, this repair shop was everything he ever wanted. But somehow, spending a few weeks with America’s dream girl had altered him in ways he couldn’t comprehend.

  But he would go on. And one day he would spend a few minutes not thinking about Francesca and his unborn son. Then maybe a few hours. Then maybe a few whole days at a time. The pain of losing her wouldn’t go away, but maybe one day it would be a little more bearable.

  “Francesca doesn’t want me part of our kid’s life. I can’t decide if her sending me these updates is worse than nothing.” He stared down at his phone, thinking about replying to the message, but ultimately deciding against it. He should have blocked her number, but couldn't quite bring himself to do it. He should have burnt the pile of magazines that he’d bought with her photo in it, but he couldn’t seem to keep himself from buying them whenever her perfect face peeked out from the pages.

  Well, at least the world loves her again. Getting back with Davis has been a huge boost to her career.

  But it didn’t stop the pressure from clamping down on his heart every time her name came up in conversation. He was pretty sure that nothing would ever stop that pain.

  Taking a deep breath, Logan took his jacket, a pack of cigarettes, and a lighter. Perhaps a visit to the hills would help out his head.

  # # #

  Francesca

  Francesca stared down at her phone, hoping that Logan would reply to her text. Almost immediately, the photo was shown as “looked at,” but no reply ever came. Sighing, Francesca fought back tears as she set her phone down gently on the counter next to her.

  Standing on the cold, white kitchen tiles in her bare feet, Francesca felt a little nauseous. She’d never thought that things like morning sickness and swollen feet would be on her list of problems to deal with, but she didn’t regret the decision to keep Logan’s child. If nothing else, their son would be a little piece of him that she could keep.

  There was a knock at the door before Davis entered, his eyes roaming the rooms until they found her. “I’m always in the kitchen, Davis,” she wanted to say. “Always. It is the only room in this house that I love. Not that you would take the time to learn anything about me. No, that would take too much effort.”

  “Hello, darling,” Davis frowned, putting unnecessary emphasis on the word. It made Francesca feel even more nauseous than she was before. Davis walked in and sat down across from her at the counter. He didn’t even bother trying to kiss her cheek anymore. Davis, just like Francesca, was tired of pretending. It was hard enough to pretend for the cameras.

  “What do you want, Davis?” Francesca asked after a long deep breath. It was the only thing that kept her from snapping at him.

  Davis pulled out his phone and immediately started flipping through something, his scrolling ensuring that he didn’t have to look at Francesca’s face. She silently fumed. Then he made it even worse by opening his mouth. “Well, the producers want to end this season with a bang, you know? And one of the little guys who gets coffee had an idea.”

  Francesca frowned, pretty sure she was already going to hate this idea. Running her hands over the swelling of her belly, she stayed silent and waited for Davis to finish.

  “So, they thought it would be a good idea to have a wedding for the season finale. That way your little bastard baby can grow up with a real father. Or something.” Davis waved dismissively like it didn’t matter one way or another to him. “Something about keeping it real with the conservative fans or something.”

  Francesca just blinked at him, unable to summon a reaction. The world seemed to tilt a little while Davis was talking. Without meaning to, Francesca went to her coffeemaker and turned it on, letting the scent and sound of the coffee spilling into the carafe soothe whatever was left of her spirit. “I should have stayed with Logan. I should have taken the hard route.” She didn’t say anything in response, and Davis somehow took that as a sign that she also thought the idea was a good one.

  “You should start picking out rings and all that nonsense; they’ll want to film the party and engagement episodes in the next few weeks. If you buy whatever ring you want, I’ll pay you back. Get it soon.” Davis stood up from the bar, his eyes still locked on his phone. “I have a date tonight, so don’t bother texting me with pictures. I’m sure whatever you pick will be fine.” Without a single word of affection or farewell, Davis was gone, his face still so buried in his phone that he couldn’t see how unhappy Francesca looked.

  Pouring herself a big cup of coffee, Francesca slowly stirred a bit of milk and sugar in. Then she dumped half of it out in the sink. “Doctor says no more than one, eight-ounce caffeinated coffee a day.”

  She stood around in her silent kitchen, sipping slowly on her one allowed coffee. The misery of everything that had happened to her so far was starting to push hard against her shoulders, weighing her down even more than the baby inside of her stomach.

  It took every ounce of willpower and courage she had inside of her to not run to her phone and beg for Logan to t
ake her back. Hating every second of her new life, Francesca couldn’t even take any joy in the fact that the world seemed to have fallen in love with her and Davis as a couple. She didn’t care that her career was back on track, that the ratings were up, or that the store was doing well.

  She just wanted Logan by her side.

  Tears slipped down her face as she cradled her growing belly with her arms. “But I need a father for my child that doesn’t break the law, that doesn’t ride with a gang. I need Davis for the cameras, for now.”

  Maybe someday, she would learn to love someone new, and be free of both Logan and Davis.

  But she doubted it.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Logan

  “Hey, boss, there’s someone here to see you.” Blade’s face was all twisted up with concern as she poked her head into the office.

  Logan’s eyebrows furrowed. “What kind of someone?”

  Blade shrugged and disappeared behind the door before he could ask any more questions, which was a really bad sign. Blade always just came into his office. “Shit.”

  “Hopefully it’s not the police. We cleared up everything with them months ago. I think.” Logan pulled on his jacket and stepped down into the main hangar where the boys were repairing the bikes that had been left by clients to be fixed. Or, they should have been working. Instead, they were distracted by Logan’s visitor.

  He chuckled humorlessly. Dressed like that, it’s no wonder she’s drawing attention.

  “Good afternoon, Nikki,” Logan called, pulling Nikki’s attention from her phone. She hadn’t changed much since he’d first met her; the long, black curls still delicately framed her pretty face. The ends were still brightly colored, like she’d tripped into a wet canvas.

  This time around, her contacts were a too-bright, too-rich sky blue. Logan silently wondered if Nikki even remembered what her natural eye color was at this point. “Buenas tardes, Logan. Nice digs, man.”

  “How did you find me?”

  Nikki shrugged, smacking her gum loudly against the roof of her mouth as the bangles lining her arms jangled loudly together. “I got my ways. That’s not important though.”

  Logan glanced around, amused at the open-mouthed stares of his mechanics. “Get back to work and stop acting like animals,” Logan yelled, making every single one of his boys jump like they’d been caught sneaking cookies from mama’s cookie jar. Nikki laughed out loud, then took Logan’s arm and led him outside.

  Logan lit up a cigarette, offering one to Nikki. She took it delicately between perfectly manicured nails, pulling her own lighter from the depths of her designer bag. Blowing smoke into the cool, December air, Nikki glanced around herself with surprise. “You have done quite well for yourself, Logan. Good for you.”

  “You didn’t come here just to pat me on the back, I’m assuming.”

  Nikki shook her head, leaning back against the metal of the warehouse, looking up into the winter’s sky. She looked around, then back down at Logan. Suddenly she asked, “You miss her?”

  “Of course I do,” Logan snapped, wanting to walk away from this conversation. “Does she — Doesn’t she miss me?”

  Nikki rolled her strange, too-blue eyes. “Duh, of course she does. She’s in love with you. That’s not even a fair question.”

  Crossing his arms, he hoped Nikki couldn’t hear his heart thundering in his chest. “So that still doesn’t explain why you are here.”

  “I’m here because, although Francesca won’t tell you herself, I think you need to know. Her ‘relationship’ with Davis is just for the cameras. They don’t see each other except for shooting and the occasional publicized public outing.”

  Despite his best efforts, Logan could feel hope flaring in his chest. The feeling made him dizzy, the blood rushing loud through his veins. “Maybe I have a chance then. Maybe I can get her to take me back, even after everything. I just have to prove I deserve it.”

  But he had no idea how.

  “Francesca should do whatever it is that will make her happy. Staying with Davis obviously doesn’t and being with me won’t either. So you need to make her see that.” Logan put out the cigarette on the ground under his boot, blowing out the last bit of smoke from his lungs. “She should do what’s best for our kid and herself.”

  “She’s miserable without you, you know.”

  It was like a blow to the stomach to hear those words; he’d never wanted to make Francesca miserable. After a moment to compose himself, he answered, his voice surprisingly steady. “Francesca and the baby are better off without me. I think it’s time for you to go home.” After a moment’s hesitation, he opened his mouth again. “But if you wouldn’t mind bringing something back with you, it would be appreciated.”

  # # #

  Francesca

  Francesca stared at the obviously handmade crib, her eyes flowing over the intricately hand-carved bassinet, her stomach churning. It was beautiful and obviously a long labor of love. It must have taken Logan every spare hour of every day they had been apart to create this masterpiece. Tears sprung to her eyes, and Francesca had to grab the kitchen counter to keep herself upright.

  “You went to see him.” It wasn’t really a question, but Nikki nodded anyway.

  “If nothing else, it proves how much he still loves you.” Francesca glared at her best friend as she flipped her thick hair over her shoulder, a cocky grin on her pretty face. “He’s really cleaned himself and his people up; he’s completely legitimate now. He runs a garage in Boston now, fixing up bikes and cars.”

  Francesca just stared at her, ice slowly replacing the blood in her veins. “I’m glad he managed not to do anything illegal in the past two months. Is this a record?” She knew she was being a bitch, but Nikki had gone behind her back and brought up all sorts of emotions that Francesca wasn’t ready to feel yet.

  This was her fault.

  “Logan is still way better for you than Davis, I mean it.” Nikki jumped up onto the counter, sitting down on the white tiles of Francesca’s kitchen island, her feet swinging as she popped her bubblegum in between her teeth. “You should tell that lying, cheating son-of-a-bitch to crawl back under whatever hole he crawled out of and run back to Logan. He’s a much better man, even with his past.”

  Francesca crossed her arms over her chest, trying not to wince as she pressed too hard against her very sensitive breasts. “I won’t put my child in danger just because it looks like Logan might have given up his criminal ways. He can go back to them at any time. You don’t know.”

  “And you can’t prove he will go back to them, Francesca! How can you have so little faith in the man you claim to love and so much faith in the asshole that cheated on you?”

  “Love has nothing to do with this!” Francesca yelled, her voice cracking with unhappiness. “Davis will raise Logan’s son like his own and has promised to be there for all of his birthdays and everything. Logan can’t promise the same if he ends up in jail, Nikki.”

  “What is it with you?” Nikki snapped in return, rage lighting up her beautiful eyes. “You are so willing to see only the best in Davis, who is a garbage fire of a human being, and only the worst in Logan who is a good guy trying to make things right so you will be back in his life. He wants to be part of his son’s life so badly that he’s completely changed his life around, and you won’t even give him a chance.” Nikki slid off of the counter and walked towards the front door, shouting over her shoulder. “Logan is lucky he’s not stuck with you, considering how much you’re determined to hate him!”

  All of the anger and pain flooded out of Francesca the moment Nikki slammed the door, bringing tears to her emerald eyes. Why did doing the right thing have to be so hard? Being with Logan would be right, but it’s just so much easier to stay here and not have to try. There was a part of Francesca that wanted to drop everything and do whatever necessary to make life with Logan work, but the rest of her was afraid. What would it do to her career, her show, her store, her l
ife?

  If he slips, I will end up alone with a child and my man in jail. Can I really live that way?

  Pressing her face into her hands, Francesca stood in the empty, white kitchen and cried. The sounds of her tears echoed around the empty house. There was no one else around, no one left to fill the aching void inside of her chest. She cradled her growing belly, eyes streaming tears as she sank to the floor.

  “I don’t know what to do.” The tile floor was icy cold against her body, but she didn’t seem to have the strength left to pick herself up. “I don’t know what to do.”