Torn from You
Page 31

Deck respected Logan.
“This isn’t him asking me to look out for you. This is me looking out for you, because I care about you and so does Logan. He’s worried about you and he has every right to be.” What did that mean? Deck swore beneath his breath. “Emily ...” He stopped at the car where Georgie, Kat and Raven were already piled in the backseat. I thought he was going to say something else, but instead he helped me into the car then shut the door. I was left wondering what the hell he was talking about. What did he mean really bad? I had this sudden need to talk to Logan, hear his voice and make certain he was alright. I clutched my purse to my chest to keep from taking out my phone.
Then Deck took us to the condo where I proceeded to throw up in the toilet then pass out on the floor.
Chapter 20
Waking on the cold, hard tiled floor sometime the next day, I felt as if a skunk had sprayed in my mouth and I had iron pokers sticking in my head.
Groaning, I used the toilet to hoist myself up to the sink, tagged my toothbrush, piled on toothpaste, and stuck it in my mouth. I did that three times then tilted my head into the sink and drank the cool water relieving some of my dry mouth.
As I shut off the water, my purse vibrated beside the toilet on the floor. Falling back onto my ass, I propped up against the cupboard while shuffling through my purse for my phone. I glanced at the screen and groaned again.
“You’re calling me this early on purpose, aren’t you? Punishment for my sins.”
Logan chuckled, and despite loving the sound of his sexy, deep chuckle that I rarely heard, I held the phone away from my ear.
“Ouch.”
“That good?”
“Hmmm.” Closing my eyes, I brought my knees up to hook my arm around them.
“I should be there.”
I huffed. “Yeah, you’d be clanging frying pans together.”
“No, I’d bring you breakfast in bed with Advil.”
Shit. Damn it, why did he have to do sweet? It made all my reservations about him blowtorch into ash. And I had no return comment.
“That’s after I talked to you about last night, Eme.” He paused, and I could picture him running his hand through his hair; I wanted my hands running through it. Well, maybe not such a good idea right at this moment. I put my head down and rested it on my knees. “When we talk, it’s good. Then last night we didn’t. I got caught up with the new manager, and I couldn’t call you. We did our gig, and I tried after the set, but you didn’t pick up. I thought you might be asleep, so I called Matt after we were done to see how Strikeback was working out, and he told me you were there. Then he said you were slurring your words. Eight cosmos. Eight.”
“Um yeah. I’m paying for it today, trust me.”
“Emily. You had eight cosmos, and I wasn’t there to take care of you. I called, and you never picked up and ... fuck, Eme, I was worried.”
Well, to be fair, I hadn’t heard my phone ringing, although even if I had I wouldn’t have picked it up. Not last night on my mission of stamp removal. “Twenty times,” I mumbled.
“Yeah. Twenty times.” He sounded really mad, the kind of mad where he just had to look at you and there’d be no more arguing. Luckily, I couldn’t see his face.
“Logan, I didn’t hear the phone.”
“Yeah.” He sighed. “Mouse, you go out with the girls, I need you to make sure you can hear your phone. You were drunk and slurring your words. Ethan was thinking he was getting some, and I wasn’t there and couldn’t get there. Jesus ... There’s some shit happening that—” He stopped abruptly. “You not answering your phone and then getting drunk at the bar ...” He groaned and it sounded like he hit something hard with his fist. “Fuck.” He paused then in a soft voice he said, “I get nightmares, baby. Everything inside me wants to protect you and I feel like I keep failing.”
I lifted my head and hit it on the cupboard door. Wow. Just wow. And also shit. I quietly said, “Matt was there. And Logan ... you can’t fail at something that isn’t your responsibility.”
I was hung over, sitting with the phone to my ear listening to Logan’s words, and feeling like crying. Him saying stuff like that made it difficult to keep my emotions hardened against him.
Logan had been worried. He had nightmares. He thought he was failing me.
I wasn’t going to cry. God, it felt overwhelmingly good that he’d been worried, and it scared me. I didn’t want any guy to ever control me again.
He wanted to make certain I was safe. He knew Ethan was a dog and freaked on him. “I gave him my number,” I blurted out.
He made a sort of grunt. “All I had to do was get you drunk? Eme, really?”
“Well, in my defense I was pissed at you. So I gave it to him.”
“You were pissed at me?”
“Yeah, Logan. I was mad.”
“Why, baby?” His tone had softened, and I imagined him singing a slow love ballad in his graveled, sexy voice, microphone between his hands, eyes closed. Yeah, I knew he could sing a love song really well. And I didn’t want to answer his question. “Why?”
I rubbed my hand down the side of my face. If I wasn’t so hung over I’d have some kind of evasive technique. “You didn’t call.”
“Sweet Jesus.”
“I was being stupid, and I wanted to try and forget you, and alcohol can do that if you drink enough, which I tried to do but—”
“Engraved Emily.” I knew exactly what he meant. “I know you’re scared about us, but when I get back we’ll work it out. Baby, if you need a call from me then call. If I’m busy I’ll tell you I’m busy, and I’ll call you back. Don’t go out pissed off at me and drink with the girls all night and give your number to some guy you don’t know.” I heard him cover the mouth piece and shout something to Crisis. “Eme, I have to go.”
“Okay. Logan?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry. I mean for whatever happened to you after ... you know, after you,” I took a deep breath, “got me out.”
There was breathing on the other end, but he didn’t respond.
“Deck said last night ... he respects you. He said it was bad after I left. It had to do with me leaving, didn’t it?”
He still didn’t answer.
“Tell me he didn’t hurt you.” I felt the tears well up, because I knew. Deck wouldn’t push this if it wasn’t something horrible, and knowing Raul and his cruel streak, I suspected he didn’t take me leaving and Logan’s involvement very well.
“I’ll call you later before the gig. Coffee. Advil. Then a big breakfast. Okay?”
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
“Eat something, Eme.”
“Okay.”
“If Ethan calls, you tell him you don’t date dogs.”
I smiled. Logan hung up.
I held the phone to my chest, trying to hold back tears. I realized that Logan not saying anything meant whatever went down had been bad. Raul was cruel, but would he have harmed his own son? I knew already—yes. Raul wouldn’t let anyone get away with making him out to be a fool.
Chapter 21
Logan texted me numerous times over the next couple days. Little reminders that he was sweet and ... yes, he was reminding me of the Logan I once loved. He still laid it out raw and in my face that this—us—was going somewhere, but instead of getting angry at him for pushing for more than I wanted, I found myself smiling and rolling my eyes.
Logan would be back in four days, and despite our recent texting and conversations, I still had trouble trusting him. Once he got back, I knew things would have to change, and I did realize that I may have to move from the farm sooner than I had anticipated. Logan and I may be talking, but living together was not something I was even close to considering.
He’d called last night twice. It was noisy and difficult to talk when Crisis and Kite kept yelling at one another while playing what sounded like a video game in the background. So, he called me back later after the guys crashed. I lay in bed talking to him for an hour, mostly about stuff we liked, music, food, movies. It wasn’t deep, but it was nice, and it was normal. Logan and I hadn’t had much normal.
I picked up my phone which sadly, I hated to admit, went everywhere with me in case Logan texted—pathetic—and ran downstairs. Kat was already sitting on the couch, a bowl of popcorn on her lap and two glasses of red wine on the coffee table. We’d decided that an evening of The Walking Dead was in order.
I plopped down and grabbed my pillow and beer then set my phone on the table. Kat glanced at it, brows raised. Then she smiled and stuck her tongue out and wiggled it.
“Gross, Kat.”
“You won’t be saying that when he gets back and has his head between your thighs.” She turned up the volume on the TV when I started stuttering my objection.
I reached over and picked up a kernel of popcorn and threw it at her.
It hit her right on the temple. I heard the sound of ripping guts in the background.
“It’s not like that.” I popped a few kernels in my mouth and took a sip of wine.
Kat picked up a piece of popcorn and threw it back at me. I turned my head at the last second, and it bounced off my ear. “Sculpt wants in your pants.”
“Sculpt was in my pants, now he doesn’t get that.” I threw the rest of my handful of popcorn at her. It tangled in her hair, and she set her wine down then picked it out one at a time. “Talking to Sculpt is my therapy.”
“Bah, it’s more than that. You’re constantly looking at your phone to see if he’s texted, you’re so falling for him—again.”
“You’re wrong. It’s not like that.”
Kat put her hands over her ears and started singing—loud. I threw a handful of popcorn at her laughing. “I’ve seen the way you look at him. You’re drooling. Panting. Your wet panties will be off the moment he says, ‘Come here Emily.’”
I tried to control the burst of laughter at Kat’s Logan impression and failed. “Kat,” I yelled then grabbed for the bowl of popcorn. She squealed diving for it at the same time. We both had a hold of the bowl, and popcorn was everywhere. Kat tugged hard, and I let go at the same time. We both went flying backward and landed on floor opposite one another. Kat grabbed a handful of popcorn and shoved it all in her mouth then we were rolling on the floor laughing hysterically.
“What the shit?”
I had no clue whose voice that was, and I quickly scrambled to my feet, hearing the crunch of popcorn beneath me.
“Ream,” Kat garbled on her overflowing mouth of popcorn.
Oh fuck. Standing in the doorway looking at us like we were crazy was Kat’s Ream. Well, not her Ream per say, but Brett said he was, and by the way his eyes were traveling over her I was thinking he was right.
Kat was still on the floor, her hair covered in white kernels.
“Kat.” Ream walked further into the room then dropped his bag on the floor. He wore a white T-shirt, and ink crawled down his arms and up his neck on the right side. He was leaner than Logan and about an inch shorter which meant he was still really tall. “Emily.” He nodded to me.