by Pam Godwin
His mouth was open to accommodate his heavy breaths, his lips wet and puffy, his hair tousled from my hands. I gripped the knot of his tie and re-centered it, sliding my fingers over the softly-shaven skin of his jaw. My God, he was stunning when aroused.
His half-lidded eyes darted between mine. “What are you doing to me?”
This was it. He was most definitely burning. I needed to dig up some damned willpower and step back.
Curling my nails into my palms, I pulled from his grip and slipped from his lap. His eyes narrowed as I backed up toward the windows.
He rose, prowling after me, his face reddening, his broad chest and shoulders expanding with tension. His glare pushed against me, eyes of golden-green set in an expression that seemed to prefer scowling and growling over smiling. Which only added to his intimidating disposition as he stalked closer. A foot away. “What are you doing with me? That kiss?” He clenched his fists. “What’s going on between you and Collin?”
My back hit the glass as he covered my body with his. He grabbed my hair, arching my neck back. His other hand cupped my breast as he licked my exposed throat, sucking, kissing his way to my jaw, and groaning into my mouth. “I hate that you belong to another man. My brother.” He kissed me again, hard and angry, and pulled back. “I fucking hate it. So answer my goddamned question.”
I whimpered, my heart hammering to tell him. Fuck! I’d known him less than a week. The bastard fucked me over. I couldn’t do the same to Collin by exposing his secret.
Besides, Logan needed to earn the answer. I placed my hands on the lapels of his jacket and shoved. He stumbled back then flew forward, attacking my mouth again. Just as quickly, he tore his lips away, his eyes wide and red with so much conflict it killed me.
Don’t back down. Don’t give in.
I wasn’t sure what he saw on my face, but he curled his lip, pulled back his arm, and slammed his fist against the glass beside my head. I jumped, restrained by the forearm across my chest, as the window wall shuddered and held.
He dropped his forehead against mine, the arm on my chest holding me in place. His other hand slid angrily over the glass, up and down, in rhythm with his short breaths.
A long moment of deadlock passed, everything left unsaid agitating between us. He seemed to be gathering his self-control. As his breathing shifted, he removed his hand from the glass and sifted it through my hair, his fingers splayed to let the strands fall between.
I raised my arm and slid my palm over his, untangling it from my hair. He let his brow sink heavier against mine, his eyes on our hands, on the sunlight that glowed around the connection. The fiery sprays of light played along our fingers as we laced them together, illuminating the beauty in the simple touch. I watched it in wonderment, filling my chest with that glow, my mouth slowly reaching for his.
He stepped back, the warmth of his touch replaced with the several feet of space he put between us. The look on his face was both heartbreaking and passionately fierce. “You can’t tell Collin about my mother.”
Reality crashed over me, the glow in my body zapped by a sudden chill as everything he’d shown me rushed to the surface.
He swiped a hand over his face, his eyes more resolute than ever. “I don’t know what Collin’s role is, but if he knows why I’m here…” He shoved his hands through his hair and stared at the ceiling. “He can’t know I want revenge. If he tells Trent—”
“Collin won’t tell.” I fisted my hands at my sides. “He’s not involved in this. I’ve kept him in the dark on everything.”
“What is everything?” He leveled me with a suspicious gaze.
I pinched the bridge of my nose and sat on the armrest of the leather chair. “Ambiguous tasks, most of which are shady, but on the surface seem completely harmless.” With a sigh, I explained the nature of the board’s demands over the years, like the delivery of the Timex watch, managing the direction of Collin’s show, changing numbers on financial statements due to accounting mistakes, all of it legal but shady nonetheless.
What Logan had showed me clicked all my suspicions into place. My distrust in them was the reason I wanted to replace them when I became CEO. But what left me stunned and ice cold was the degree of their corruption. My God, I would’ve never believed it without his evidence.
He moved to the messenger bag on the floor beside my feet and crouched to return the documents inside. “Does Collin know you watch the races?”
“Yes.” Only he and Seth knew.
“Does he know how you receive the schematics to attend?” His eyes were on his bag, his body stock-still. “Does he know Hal Pinkerton is feeding you that dangerous information?”
Dangerous because it was underground with illegal betting and extreme racing that often ended in injury or death. Dangerous if the wrong people discovered who leaked it to the authorities. I glared at his bowed head. “Yes.”
He looked up. “Trent knows, too, which means Collin might be sharing with dear old dad.”
My protective instincts bristled, hating his suspicion. Seth could’ve been the leak, but if I told him that, I’d have to explain who Seth was. “But you found that server.”
“I’m looking for suspicious activity, for proof of your involvement. Does Trent have a reason to mistrust you on his own? Without someone cluing him in?”
“I don’t know.” Goosebumps rose along my arms, my voice numb. “Maybe he’s always tracked me.” Maybe Trent didn’t believe I was as naïve as he always claimed.
Logan stood, strapping the bag across his chest. “When you left Trent’s office, I followed you. Collin saw me across the street, and I swear he recognized me. I think he and Trent share more than you think. Which means Collin is hiding shit from you.”
Bullshit. I wanted to launch at him with my claws out, but I kept my ass on the armrest and my voice calm. “Trent called Collin as soon as I left his office. And he sent a photo of you when you went racing after me. He didn’t want us fighting in the streets of Chicago, making a spectacle of ourselves.”
He waved a hand in dismissal. “Fine. Tell me about the threat Trent is holding over him.”
Jesus, he was on a fucking witch-hunt. I gritted my teeth. “It’s purchased evidence. Trent has something that puts Collin at the scene of a murder eight years ago. He’s innocent.”
“And you know this how? Based on faith in your husband?”
“Yes.” I smiled, baring my teeth, but inside, I was picking Collin’s innocence apart.
Collin told me the evidence was purchased, and I never questioned him, never doubted him for a second. My stomach twisted.
No, I refused to question his loyalties. I’d known him my entire life. My trust in him was everything. But the voice in my head reminded me that I hadn’t been completely honest with him.
“Know what I think?” He stepped into my space, staring me down with an intensity that didn’t match the gentleness in his tone. “I think he’s fucking around on you, and that’s why you cheated. How can you have faith in someone like that?”
I drew a calming breath and said quietly, “The relationship I have with my husband is none of your fucking business.”
“I don’t trust him.”
The rigid tension in his face and the resolve hardening his eyes boiled my blood. “He’s my best friend, the only person whose ever given a shit about me!”
He breathed in and out slowly as if working to maintain his composure. “I’m here to determine who’s involved and who’s not.”
“Then what?” But I knew. I knew what he planned to do. My muscles tensed, and my head spun through the implications. “We need to go to the police. You have all the evidence they need to start an investigation. Let the authorities root out all the connections.”
He pivoted away, pacing through the large office, his hand raking and tugging through his hair. “We can’t. The evidence”—he gripped the bag hanging at his hip and shook it—“all of it will lead to me.” He spun to face me, his eyes cha
llenging. “I avenged those murders.”
A chill tiptoed up my spine. “What are you saying?”
“Trent deals with some vile people. Assassins. Men who rape and torture and murder.”
“You killed them.” My shoulders tightened, self-preservation screaming at me to run, but my gut told me he’d never hurt me. Not like that. He was telling me his secrets. Very damning secrets. That was a hell of lot of trust to put in me.
“I killed rapists and murderers, Kaci. Including the man who killed my mother.” His chin lifted, and the unapologetic strength of his gaze wasn’t one of a crazed man. More like a battle-ready vigilante who’d lived a hard life. “I stopped them from taking more lives.”
He believed he was doing the right thing, but there was a darkness in him. In the shadow of his surly glare, the turbulence of his temper, and the fierceness of his fucking.
It reminded me of the man I’d fantasied about for so long. The criminal who wore his darkness in a cloak of black leathers. Evader maimed and killed during races, a fact that hadn’t deterred me during our moment in an unlit elevator.
I didn’t know Logan Flynt or Evader enough to determine if they were the same man. But my mind had latched onto the idea and went searching for clues. Like the header on the news article he’d shown me. “Your mom was in the Motorcycle Hall of Fame?”
He gave a short nod, his eyes studying me from a few feet away.
I cocked my head. “You ride?”
“No.”
No hesitation. No emotion. Direct eye contact. Which told me absolutely nothing.
The phone on my desk beeped. I sighed. Probably Jenna calling about the morning’s schedule.
As I moved to answer it, I could feel him following. I pressed the speaker button. “Jenna?”
“Your eight-thirty meeting is waiting.”
“On my way.” I ended the call and turned.
Just feet apart, we stared at each other, the energy between us still there but different. The silent communication felt restricted as if waiting on certain conditions. But also hopeful and seeking.
He felt it, too. I saw it in the softening of his eyes and the slight tilt of his head as he regarded me. Then he stepped forward, erasing the gap in three slow strides. His hand went to the back of my head. His lips touched my brow and held there, coating my skin with warm breaths.
“Don’t kill my family,” I whispered, gripping his tie. “They’re awful, but I…” I inhaled deeply. “I need some time to think.”
After everything they’d done to me, I couldn’t justify their deaths. Not without confirming the evidence and considering the ramifications that murder would have on Collin, myself, and especially Logan. He’d killed but hadn’t murdered his own blood. His father. How could a person come back from that?
He cupped my face, angling it upward, his gaze searching. “While you’re thinking, don’t call in the cops.”
If I reported what I knew, Logan would disappear. Or worse, he’d get caught. There was also Trent’s threat against Collin. If I sent him to prison, he’d take Collin with him.
I nodded.
Trent had given me a month. I could wait it out to ensure Collin’s protection. Then fuck this place. I’d start a new life.
But what about Collin’s career? And what was happening on October twenty-seventh? Who sent Trent the watch?
God, I wanted to talk to Collin. I was keeping too many secrets from him, which meant he could be doing the same.
Logan brushed his lips across my forehead and stepped back. “Go to your meeting. I’ll wait while you think. Just don’t take too long.”
How would I stop him from murdering my family? He could do it right now and vanish. On the flip side, he couldn’t stop me from turning him in. Unless he killed me.
My nerves went rampant as I watched him leave. Our parting agreement balanced on some pretty delicate trust.
On his way out, he grabbed the trash bin that held the snake and tucked it under his arm. The muscles in his back and arms flexed as he moved through the room, stretching the wool jacket.
His hard body wasn’t built for a suit. All those strong, rugged edges belonged in black leather, straddling a bike. Was I imagining this? My belly fluttered at the notion.
At the door, he glanced at me over his shoulder and pointed at the snake inside the trash bin. “You do this yourself?”
Collin had helped me find the breeder and haul the snakes in, but the rest was all me. I smiled. “I know how to handle a snake.”
He returned my smile with a sad one and vanished around the corner.
As the next two weeks passed by, a miserable knot took root in my stomach. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, and the day-to-day demands of my job took their toll on my concentration. My jaw locked in a permanent clench, nausea greeted me with each new hour, and the shriveling feeling in my chest made every breath a goddamn challenge.
Sitting in the suffocation of the boardroom, I leaned into my elbows on the table and swallowed the rush of saliva filling my mouth. It was all I could do to not heave the anxiety writhing in my stomach.
The source of my torment filled four high-backed chairs along one side of the table. My parents and my in-laws sat in their usual them-against-me positioning with the wood surface between us. Even with my eyes averted, I could feel them. Their filth in the air, the prick of their passing glances, the blather of their voices, all of it strumming my nerves into unbearable anger.
They droned on like they hadn’t committed ungodly crimes. Collin’s parents bickered about the profitability of launching a new cable network. My father piped in with his technical solutions. And my mother sat silently, casting her judgment with an over-plumped sneer.
Logan and I sat on the opposite side of the table with a chair between us. A chair full of contention and looming decisions. We hadn’t spoken about our secrets since the morning I delivered the snakes, yet we interacted daily as CEO and VP. He learned the ropes while I dealt with the politics surrounding his employment. Together we managed the operations as if it were our only preoccupation.
He hadn’t made any moves against Trenchant and instead seemed to be settling into his new role. But his patience was a ruse. The ticking tension between us hummed over my skin during staff meetings. When we crossed paths in the halls, his cursory glances pierced me with silent questions.
We restrained from lingering looks in the presence of others. To the unknowing eye, our interactions were professional. From my family’s perspective, we were enduring a forced partnership.
No one knew what I knew. Beneath Logan’s suave smile and crisp suit was a murderer with a premeditated intent to finish what he’d started. No doubt he spent his free time mining the company ranks for rats while I tortured myself in deliberation, taking too long to decide, delaying the inevitable.
The inevitable was why I couldn’t warm my icy fingers, why I’d lost five pounds, and why my body felt like it was shutting down. The inevitable put my family in prison or in the ground. But the part I struggled with the most was knowing once everything was brought to fruition, Logan would be gone. As a fugitive or behind bars, he wouldn’t be here with me.
What the hell was I going to do about it? My severe mistrust of every damned person in my life had built a barrier between me and Collin. I couldn’t come up with a convincing reason to tell him about the vile things our parents had done. What would stop him from turning them in? He didn’t give a shit about the impact that would have on Logan. Or worse, what if he defended them? What if he already knew?
So I kept my mouth shut while I fact-checked everything Logan had shown me. I wasn’t a journalist by any stretch, but I led an entire division of them. I verified sources, followed leads, assigned reporters to do the same, trickling out the requests and using the cautious ambiguity Trent had always used with me.
The embezzling, accounting fraud, missing employees, all of it added up, albeit hidden beneath the kind of well-placed and thorough ex
planations an unsuspecting person wouldn’t question. The Trenchant name was stained with crime. Everything I’d unearthed soured my aspirations to lead this miserable corporation. It wasn’t just the board members. The corrupted partners inside and outside of these walls were many, the layers of deceit running deep in every department.
The one thing I hadn’t connected was Trent’s interest in the underground racing network. According to Logan, Trent was pulling my files of the racing schematics. If that was true, why had he asked me a month ago to obtain everything I could about it? Then never asked again? He knew I was keeping that secret, and I hoped to God it was the only one he knew about.
I also investigated Logan, digging for information online, following him, and snapping photos like an obsessed stalker. He drove a Jeep Wrangler. He stopped at the Starbucks next door to the office every morning. He worked out in a gym two blocks away every night. He had no friends or family, and his address on file was a studio apartment in south Chicago. But his jeep was never in that parking lot.
Every time he slid behind the wheel of that damned jeep at Trenchant, I lost him. I used a cab to be inconspicuous, but Logan seemed to know the streets of Chicago better than anyone, knew how to whip a turn at the last second. He drove the way Evader rode his bike.
I compared the photos of Logan and Evader, studied their physiques, analyzed their heights and weights. An absurd exercise considering I’d had both of their cocks in my mouth. But my brief moment with Evader had been in the dark and the measurements of his anatomy wasn’t what I took away with me that night.
Even if they were the same man, it didn’t change the outcome. With each day, time wrapped tighter and tighter around my ribs. Maybe I was waiting out the month, expecting Logan to wait it out with me. Maybe I was waiting for him to fight. Not for his revenge but for me.
Sitting one chair away, he wore a black suit that sharpened the physique I knew so well and desperately missed. Always the same style with a black tie and white shirt. He must’ve had a closet filled with this uniform, and if I looked beneath the table, I’d find black Converse sneakers. Rebellious and sexy as sin.
