Torn from You - Page 26/47


What was he doing here again?

“You going to let me in?”

He was frowning and looked like he hadn’t slept, and yet still he looked irresistible. Even with that scar on his chin. I wondered where he got it from. Fighting in Mexico after I left?

“Mouse?”

Right. Let the guy in. I was so speechless that I couldn’t even think straight. I stepped out of the way, and Logan strode past me. He went directly to the island and leaned against it crossing his arms. I stood frozen in the wide-open doorway.

“You going to shut that?”

I swung the door shut and leaned back against it mirroring him. He was watching me, eyes unwavering, intense, and yes, I recognized the hint of desire in his expression.

Finally I untangled my tongue, and I only did manage it, because he was on one side of the room and I was at the farthest point away. “What are you doing here? Again.”

“Come here, Emily.”

I nearly did. It was automatic to do as he asked when he said an order like that. I had to stop myself and it felt like I was going against something inside me. No, I wasn’t his slave anymore. Besides, stepping closer to Logan had an effect on me that I needed to stay clear of. That undeniable ache between my legs was dangerous, and distance was safety. Falling for Logan again was by far the worst sort of punishment I could put myself through. I had plans, and Logan was not part of them.

“Last night ... ” He paused, and for a second I thought I saw that flash of vulnerability in his eyes again. Surprising since Logan had the confidence of a bull. All he had to do was walk in a room and all eyes would deviate to him as if he was someone important. “What I should’ve said was that I love you.” My breath escaped, and I stared, mouth agape. And nothing deterred him it seemed. “I’ve never said that to anyone except my mother. Because I never loved anyone else—until you.”

Oh God. He couldn’t do this. I was prepared to handle him being angry and cold—not tell me he loves me and that he’s never said that to anyone except his mother. A mother who risked everything in order to get her son out of a horrible immoral place.

“Eme. I wish—”

I shook my head back and forth. “Sculpt—”

“Let me say this.”

My emotions were coiled tight, tied up with thoughts of Logan and when we first met. Thoughts of how when he looked at me—he really looked and saw me. His presence reminded me of how he said he’d hire a plane with a banner saying how beautiful I was to fly by my window. He’d said I needed to be told often after all that shit my mother put in my head. Had that been real? Had any of it? I was constantly fighting the memories of the two months we’d spent together to be overshadowed by the fifteen days of hell. Even with Logan telling me the truth, I was having trouble trusting that our time together had been real.

“Emily.” His tone was hard and inflexible, and for a second I felt that flicker of tremor skip across my insides, but then just as quick as it came, it was gone again. “I wish more than anything I could’ve been here for you over the last two years. Helped you. Told you the truth. Jesus, sometimes I wish I never agreed to teach you self-defence. But then ... then I’d have never fallen in love with you.

“Baby, you’re the one who gave me the strength to survive Raul. It has always been you. It will always be you. Emily ...you’re my trophy. And I lost you.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I can’t lose you again. I have to do whatever it takes to win you back.”

“And you never lose.” I whispered more to myself then him.

He remained quiet.

I straightened my back and raised my chin, fighting against the urge to back down after hearing the most touching words I think I ever heard coming from Logan. My insides were churning and I was having trouble controlling my tears.

But I’d fought hard for two years to regain my confidence and like one of my rescue horses, I finally had some dignity again and I couldn’t. I just couldn’t let him in.

A knock on the door had me jumping away from it, and I looked from the door back to Logan. Eddie the doorman must have recognized Deck and sent him up. I was thankful and yet in some masochistic way disappointed at our interruption.

Logan watched me, and I nervously licked my lips under his gaze. His eyes followed the subtle action, and I quickly slammed my mouth shut then rubbed my arms as the shivers coursed through me.

Logan managed to erase every thought except for him and pulled me into a place I had no intention to ever go again. I was going to have my own farm, my business, and help save the horses that needed me. I’d never submit to another man again and be that weak.

Another knock.

“Do you want me to get that?”

“Um, no.” I reached for the door handle, then stopped. “Sculpt?”

“Yeah, baby.”

God, when he called me that I felt like I could just erase everything that happened and start over.

Another knock. Louder.

I looked at the door then back to Logan. “I’m not something to win.”

Logan frowned. “No. No, you’re not. But you’re something to treasure.”

“Logan—” I stopped as soon as his name passed my lips.

He began his approach, slow and steady. I thought he was going to touch me, pull me into his arms, even kiss me. Instead he reached by me, his arm brushing my lower back.

“And a trophy ... I will always treasure.” Logan pulled the door open.

Deck stood in his faded jeans and black T-shirt as he looked from me to Logan then held out his hand, and Logan shook it. “Logan.” I jerked. Deck called him by his real name. “Band sounded great last night. All good?”


“Could be better.”

Deck’s eyes swung to me. He was scowling, not that scowling was unusual, but it was directed at me, and I wasn’t sure why. “You tell her?”

Tell me what?

“Don’t go there, Deck.” Logan’s voice was low, and he ground out the words.

Go where? It was like suddenly I wasn’t in the room and the two most assertive and self-assured men in the city were having a private conversation despite the fact that I was standing right there.

Deck gave a curt nod to Logan. “You coming with us?”

I stiffened and looked at Logan. “To Georgie’s? Why would you come to Georgie’s?”

Deck and Logan exchanged a look then Deck said, “Georgie invited the band over for brunch last night, Emily.”

“Oh.” I didn’t like that. It meant Logan integrating into my life.

Logan put his hand on the small of my back. It was barely a touch, a light dusting of his hand, but it was possessive and ... it felt protective.

“I need to meet up with Matt then I’ll be by. But you know what Georgie said last night?”

Deck nodded.

Logan’s fingers squeezed my waist. “I want to see you before I leave, Mouse.”

“What for?”

Deck’s brows rose, and I noticed the slightest twitch at the corner of his mouth.

Logan’s hand found mine and he interlinked our fingers and squeezed. “See you in a bit, Eme.” And then he was gone.

A whirlwind had just swept through me. I was so confused and uncertain at how to feel about Logan right now that I felt sick to my stomach. It was too much. The same friends, him owning the farm. It was like I was being thrown at him from every direction, and Logan was right there waiting with open arms.

Chapter 17

It took ten minutes to reach Georgie’s, and Deck was silent the entire way. He wasn’t a talker by any means, and I normally wouldn’t have noticed if he didn’t speak. Except Deck’s expression was foreboding. Scowl in place, brows lowered, stiff shoulders, and lips tight. Something had pissed him off, but I had no idea what. I mean, he acted like he and Logan were cool with one another. Actually, it seemed like I was the one Deck wasn’t cool with, and being on Deck’s uncool side ... yeah, that made me edgy.

He pulled up to Georgie’s semi-detached house in King Liberty Village, and we were walking through the alley between the houses to the backyard when Deck snagged my hand and brought me to an abrupt stop.

He was frowning in a way that caused shivers of insecurity to waltz across my skin. “You into him?”

“What?” Oh. My. God.

“You heard me.” Sometimes his no-bullshit attitude was really annoying.

“Fine, I heard you. I just don’t know what to say.”

“Easy—yes or no?”

“Why, Deck? What does it matter? Especially to you.”

“Beautiful, get your head out of your butt. No guy goes through what he went through if he isn’t into her. Logan is into you. I know you’re having trouble dealing with the shit that went down, but if you knew—”

“Deck—”

“I’m not done yet.”

I bit my lower lip.

His tone softened. “What I just saw between you and Logan looks like something. Logan got you out of that shit, and he went through hell. You ask him what happened after you left.”

“I know what happened. He fought for his father and—”

He cut me off. “No. You think you know. Ask him. You owe him.”

“I owe him?” I couldn’t believe he said that. Deck was as upfront as they came. He gave it to you straight. But in this case he was wrong. I owed Sculpt nothing, and yet, Deck was avoiding telling me something.

“He didn’t have to come after you, Emily. Did you ever think about that? We could’ve got his mother out from under Raul and disappeared. Logan never had to see his father again or go back there. Yes, I would’ve come for you, but by then you would’ve disappeared. Logan made certain that didn’t happen by acting fast and doing what he did.” He put his finger under my chin so he could see my face. “He hated his father. He asked me when he was eighteen, way before any of this shit went down, to try and find a way to get to Raul. But I couldn’t locate him. The guy relocated after Logan and his mother escaped.” I closed my eyes against the tears. “Beautiful, he risked his life for you. And if you think for one second his life was not at risk even more than yours, then you’re mistaken.”

I nearly jumped out of my skin when the back gate clanged open interrupting us. Deck’s hand dropped, and he put his hand on the small of my back.

“No screwing chicks in the alleyway, Deck. Fuck, thought you were over that teenage shit.” I turned around, and the guy’s eyes rose with recognition. “Oh shit, you’re Emily. Finally I get to meet the hottie Sculpt’s been pining over.” I couldn’t imagine Logan pinning for anything. “I’m Crisis.”

Oh, the band’s guitarist. His blond curls blew in the cool summer breeze while his eyes danced with mischief. His blue eyes drooped in the outer corners, and his soft features made him look cute. He also had a killer smile.

“Deck giving you trouble? ’Cause I’m capable of kicking his ass.”

“I doubt it,” I whispered, but he heard me. Crisis looked lean and agile, but Deck was taller and had more bulk.