He helped her into one of his clean T-shirts, the material engulfing her petite body. Her feminine fragility made him feel even more fiercely protective.
She mumbled incoherently as he picked her up again and gently lowered her to the middle of the massive bed. She looked so small and fragile that his heart twisted in his chest.
Pulling the covers over her, he tucked her in and tenderly brushed her hair back from her face.
She stirred and lifted her lids, looking up at him. Black mascara was smeared under her eyes. He gently pressed his thumb to her skin, wiping away tears and makeup.
She caught his hand, holding it against her cheek. Those huge amber eyes shadowed with turmoil brought out all his protective instincts. Something was eating at her, and it killed him that he couldn’t get it out of her.
“Hold me,” she whispered.
He was already shucking off his boots and climbing into bed with her. She curled into him, her head slumping onto his chest. He held her tight, rocking her gently, stroking her hair and whispering soothingly as she drifted off to the oblivion of sleep.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
MEADOW
* * *
The only thing worse than waking up in the morning with a hangover was waking up with a hangover brought on by unimaginable grief.
The moment Meadow opened her eyes, pain sliced through her skull and ricocheted through her heart. Everything came rushing back in nauseating waves, the devastating events of yesterday becoming today’s reality.
Logan was sitting in a chair next to the bed, watching her intently. He wore a pair of torn jeans, and his chest and feet were bare. His black hair stood up in unruly disarray. He looked like he hadn’t slept all night.
When their eyes met, he leaned forward and tenderly stroked her hair as he searched her face. “Hey, there.”
“Hey,” she whispered.
“How are you feel—”
Before he could finish the question, hot bile surged up her throat. She bolted from the bed and ran to the bathroom, reaching the toilet just as vomit spewed from her mouth. She dropped to her knees and bent over the bowl, her stomach heaving violently.
Logan was right there, holding her hair back as she retched into the toilet. She vomited until she had nothing left to purge and she was dry heaving in painful spasms.
Weak and dizzy, she slumped back against the wall, tears running down her cheeks.
Logan squatted in front of her, murmuring soft words of comfort as he wiped her face with a cool, damp washcloth. When he finished, he gently lifted her off the floor and carried her back to bed, propping her up against a pile of pillows.
She closed her eyes, still feeling a little woozy and nauseous.
Logan left the room, returning promptly with a glass of water. The mattress sank as he sat beside her and held the glass to her lips. She took a few small sips before leaning back against the pillows.
“Better?” he murmured.
She nodded. “Thank you.”
The glass clicked as he set it down on the bedside table. Then he kissed her forehead and returned to the chair so he could see her face. “I’m going out of my mind with worry. Please talk to me, sweetheart. Tell me what’s going on with you.”
Tears filled her eyes as she relived in her mind what had happened to her parents, how they’d been killed and how she’d been utterly powerless to help them.
“Everything I thought I knew about the past was a lie,” she whispered.
Logan frowned at her. “What do you mean?”
She swallowed painfully. “I received a phone call yesterday from my mother’s sister.”
Logan’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Your birth mother’s sister?”
She nodded slowly. “Somehow she tracked me down. The sound of her voice…it triggered a traumatic memory I’d been suppressing since I was six.”
Logan stared at her, barely breathing. “A memory of what?”
She looked into his eyes. “The night my uncle killed my parents.”
Logan’s face went slack with shock. “What?”
As she burst into tears, he shot out of the chair and joined her on the bed, pulling her onto his lap and wrapping his arms around her. He held her tight as she wept uncontrollably, her body wracked by sobs that hurt inside and out. He whispered soothingly and kissed her brow, pressing his mouth to every part of her face he could touch. His tenderness made her cry even harder, her tears wetting his neck.
When her sobs subsided enough for her to speak somewhat coherently, the story came pouring out of her like muddy floodwaters. Logan listened in stunned silence as she told him about the harrowing night her parents lost their lives over an argument about money.
Though she couldn’t see his face, she could feel the shock and horror reverberating through him as he absorbed her devastating revelations. She could feel his heart thundering beneath her ear, his thigh muscles clenching beneath her bottom, his arms tightening around her as she described the suffocating fear she’d felt while hiding in the closet, the panic and terror that engulfed her when she saw her murdered parents.
“Jesus Christ,” Logan breathed hoarsely when she’d told him all of it, every heartbreaking detail. “I’m so sorry, baby. So fucking sorry for everything you went through.”
She let out a shivering breath and lifted her head from his chest. His eyes were shiny, fierce with emotion.
“So many things make sense now,” she said quietly. “The panic attacks. My fear of being in the spotlight. Of being seen. My mother told me to hide in that closet and ‘Be invisible,’ and I’ve spent all these years trying to do just that. Even though I couldn’t remember what happened that night, my psyche associated visibility with danger.”
Logan nodded, his eyes sweeping over her face. “Now I understand why you stayed away from social media. You didn’t want to be found, and you had every reason to feel that way.”
She nodded, resettling her head against the warm wall of his bare chest.
“I would have killed him,” he growled, raw fury throbbing in every word. “If your uncle had come here looking for you, I would have fucking killed him with my bare hands. He didn’t deserve a quick, merciful death. He deserved to suffer, and I would have gladly made sure he did.”
“I know you would have.” Meadow didn’t doubt him for a second. She’d seen him lose his temper. She knew how brutally dangerous he could be.
Swallowing tightly, she reached up and fingered the scar hidden below her hairline. She could almost feel the butt of her uncle’s pistol crashing into her temple and opening a gash, causing her to lose consciousness. “At least now I know how I got this scar.”
Logan pressed a kiss to her hair, soothing her with tenderness. “I know there’s absolutely nothing I can say to take your pain away, but I want you to know how truly sorry I am. I’m here for you, sweetheart. I’m gonna do whatever it takes to help you get through this.”
“I know you will,” she whispered achingly. “And I’m so grateful for that. Right now it’s enough for you to just hold me.”
“I can definitely do that.” He leaned back against the headboard, holding her so close it was a miracle their bodies didn’t fuse together. With his arms banded around her and her cheek resting on his powerful chest, she felt safer than she ever had in her life.
As the heaviness of exhaustion seeped into her limbs, she closed her eyes and mumbled softly, “Thanks for nursing me through my hangover.”
His lips curved against her hair. “Just returning the favor.”
* * *
All hell broke loose after a video of Logan’s brawl at the club went viral overnight.
Later that afternoon, he and Meadow were reclining on the couch watching football when his phone started blowing up. First his agent called in a panic because Rebels management wasn’t happy with Logan’s off-ice antics. They were worried about the negative publicity and were threatening to fine him for violating the morals clause in his contra
ct. His publicist called next to discuss damage control.
While Logan took the call in his library, Meadow’s phone buzzed. When she saw her boss’s number, a knot of dread formed in the pit of her stomach. The last thing she needed right now was to be fired from her new job.
“Hello?” she answered nervously.
“Meadow? This is Dirk.” He sounded excited, not angry. “Apologies for calling you on a Sunday, but I just saw the viral video and wanted to reach out and make sure you’re okay.”
“Um, yeah. I’m fine.” Other than having my whole world turned upside down in the past twenty-four hours.
“I’m glad you’re okay. I was worried about you.” Dirk paused. “Is everything cool with you and Logan?”
Her brow furrowed at the question. “We’re fine—”
“Great! Glad to hear it.” Dirk’s relief was palpable, and she could almost hear him grinning. “You know, all couples argue. It doesn’t have to spell the end of your relationship. You and Logan are obviously crazy about each other, so I’m sure you can work everything out.”
Meadow frowned, struck by the realization that her boss was afraid of her and Logan breaking up. He shouldn’t be so invested in her personal relationship. It was highly unnerving.
“There’s probably gonna be some reporters hanging around the office this week,” he said. “I don’t want them bombarding you with questions, so why don’t you work from home for a few days? Just until the buzz dies down a little.”
Meadow’s stomach knotted tighter. “If you think that’s best—”
“Absolutely. Can’t have the paparazzi harassing you.” Dirk laughed. “Do you realize how much publicity you’ve just generated for the company? Your name is trending on social media, which means people will be Googling where you work. Which means they’ll learn about Gamenetic. Definitely not a bad deal.”
Meadow felt sick to her stomach.
Logan walked back into the living room, took one look at her face and frowned. “What’s wrong?”
Dirk heard his voice and got excited. “Is that Logan?”
“Yes. I’m at his place.”
“Tell him I said congratulations on the game. That was a sweet goal.”
“I’ll tell him,” she said as Logan plopped down beside her. “Thanks for calling, Dirk. I’ll check in with you in the morning.”
“Sounds good.” His idiotic grin came through the phone. “You and Logan enjoy the rest of your Sunday.”
“Thanks. You, too.” She ended the call and rolled her eyes.
Logan looked amused. “What was that about?”
“My boss is infatuated with you, and it’s seriously creeping me out. Anyway, what did your publicist say? How bad is the damage?”
He shrugged. “It’s nothing she can’t handle. She’ll put together a statement and issue it tomorrow.”
Meadow’s chest tightened as guilt bubbled up inside her. “I’m sorry for causing you so much trouble, Logan. If I hadn’t been at the club last night, you wouldn’t have beaten up those guys.”
He scowled. “Those assholes got what they deserved, especially the one who wouldn’t take his fucking hands off you. As far as I’m concerned, he got off way too easy.”
“But now you’re in trouble,” she fretted. “You could get fined or suspended—”
“Don’t worry about that, Jupiter. You’re all that matters to me.” He gathered her in his arms, protectively tucking her head against his shoulder.
She clung to him, needing his strength and his love, thankful he had both in spades.
Chapter Forty
MEADOW
* * *
Logan learned his fate the next morning when his agent called. The NHL was suspending him for one game and fining him $40,000 for “unacceptable off-ice conduct.”
After the punishment was announced, his publicist released a statement: “Mr. Brassard regrets that his conduct adversely affected the Denver Rebels organization, his teammates and his fans. He takes full responsibility for his behavior and accepts the league’s disciplinary actions. But to be clear: He makes no apologies for coming to the defense of Miss Ryan, a woman he has loved since they were children in foster care. Protecting her is second nature to him, and that’s just the way it is.”
The publicist’s strategy played especially well to women, who swooned at the romantic notion of a man chivalrously defending his woman’s honor. The viral fight video was remixed with a bunch of songs ranging from Enrique Iglesias’s “Hero” to Percy Sledge’s “When a Man Loves a Woman.”
A popular black female YouTuber made a video in which she declared: “Yes, black girls can be damsels in distress, too! We deserve knights in shining armor just like everybody else!”
Meadow learned about the social media reaction from Jess, who called her right after Logan left for practice.
“I was so freaking jealous when I saw your man going apeshit on those losers. He was so terrifying and sexy! And then when he picked you up and carried you away?” Jess’s dreamy sigh floated through the line. “No wonder the video already has millions of views on YouTube. Have you watched it yet?”
“No. I really don’t need to see it. I lived it.” Meadow paused. “Plus I’m trying to stay focused and get some work done.”
Jess didn’t take the hint. “If you do watch it, don’t read the comments. I mean, most of the women are swooning over Logan and saying how lucky you are. But you’ve got some judgmental people questioning what you were doing at the club in the first place. And of course there’s a bunch of butthurt black dudes calling you a bed wench for dating a white guy.” She snorted in disgust. “They’re so pathetic.”
Meadow decided to change the subject. “Any word from Dubs?”
“Not yet,” Jess said gloomily. “He’s not returning my calls or texts.”
“Give him time. He’ll come around.”
“I hope you’re right.” Jess heaved a wistful sigh. “Well, I’ll let you get back to work. I need to do the same. By the way, what was the family stuff you were dealing with?”
Meadow’s throat tightened. “It’s a long story. I don’t feel like getting into it right now.”
“I understand,” Jess commiserated. “Believe me, I know a thing or two about family drama.”
Not like this, Meadow thought grimly. Definitely not like this.
* * *
She threw herself into work for the rest of the day, taking refuge in a kind of mindless oblivion that dulled the pain of her grief.
She was working on her laptop in Logan’s luxurious library. He’d been out most of the day. She hadn’t seen him since he’d brought her lunch and made her stop to eat with him. He’d been mostly quiet during the meal, watching her with concern in his eyes. She was just as concerned about him.
Though he’d never admit it to her, she knew he was upset about missing tomorrow night’s playoff game. He was a fierce competitor. He wanted to help his team close out the series and advance to the Western Conference Final. Being sidelined for the game would be absolute torture to him. He was paying a steep price for protecting her, and it made her feel even guiltier.
She spent most of the day drafting a proposal for a new partnership with a local women’s shelter. She worked on that between answering emails and finalizing vendor contracts for the upcoming community fair.
Around five-thirty she decided to call it quits for the day. As she powered off her laptop, Logan announced from the doorway, “Hey, baby. Look who’s here.”
She swiveled her chair around. When she saw her father standing next to Logan, her eyes widened in shock. “Dad?”
He gave her a warm smile. “Hey, sweetheart.”
She got up slowly, staring at him as if her eyes were deceiving her.
When he opened his arms, she ran into them. He kissed her temple and hugged her tight, pressing her face into his shoulder. She was so happy to see him that tears flooded her eyes and leaked into his shirt.
He held her
for a long time, patting her back comfortingly before she pulled away and stared up at him.
“What’re you doing here?”
“I came to see you.” His brows knitted as he thumbed tears off her cheeks. “I’ve been worried sick about you ever since we talked on the phone yesterday. I know you told me everything’s fine, but you’re my daughter and I can always tell when you’re lying.”
She choked out a watery laugh. “So you just hopped on a plane and flew out here?”
“Damn right.” His eyes twinkled. “Logan was kind enough to pick me up from the airport. No, he didn’t know I was coming,” he added when she opened her mouth. “I wanted to surprise you. Your aunt would have picked me up, but she had a parent-teacher conference at Cam’s school. Logan and I had exchanged numbers during your last visit. So I called him up and told him what time I was landing, and he came to get me—no questions asked.”
“It was no problem,” Logan said, adorably embarrassed as Harris clapped him gratefully on the shoulder and Meadow gave him a hero-worshipping smile.
Harris turned back to her and tweaked her nose. “Your aunt’s worried about you, too. She dropped Cam off at his best friend’s house and is on her way.”
Meadow didn’t know whether to sigh or smile. “How long are you staying, Dad?”
“Just a couple days. Longer if I need to. Now could one of you kindly point me in the direction of the bathroom?”
“Of course,” Logan said. “Right this way.”
Harris followed him out of the room, looking around appreciatively. “Quite a nice place you have here, Logan. What’s the square footage?”
“Just under five thousand.”
Harris whistled in amazement before disappearing into the powder room.
Sin Bin Page 62
