Torn from You (21 page)

Brett was
serving like a champion, pouring three drinks at once while taking
cash and using his hip to close the cash register. I waited
patiently to catch his attention. I was in no hurry, Kat and I had
been dancing for an hour already, and I needed a break and another
shot. We’d chugged back three tequilas when we arrived, and I was
due for another.

A hand slammed
down in front of me. “Emily, been a while. Where’ve you been, hot
stuff?”

For all the
commotion, Brett looked damn calm. His blue eyes flickered with
amusement as he poured a Stella from the bar tap and slid it down
the bar, all the while his attention never wavered from me.

“Still
recovering from our last night out.” Kat and I were here a couple
weeks ago, and the tequila shots didn’t sit so well the next day,
especially when having to ride Havoc and working with four rescue
horses. We made it a habit to come to the bar twice a month and
stay at the condo, so we could see Matt. Matt was so busy with
Avalanche that we rarely saw him now. We’d also go see Georgie who
recently wasn’t making it out to the farm as often to see us.

“So, you
saying no more tequila tonight, sweetie?”

I
tilt
ed my head and
raised my brows. Brett laughed and poured me a shot. He was nearly
always serving at Avalanche. Kat swore Brett only worked there to
pick up chicks, as during the day he was a real estate tycoon. It
was hard to imagine the blond with the unruly curls and dashing
blue eyes wearing a business suit.

I put down a
twenty. “Nice try, Emily.”

“It’s a tip.”
Matt insisted we get our drinks for free, but I still tried to pay
whenever I was here. The bar was kind of like therapy for me, being
around men, dancing and losing myself to the music. The first dozen
times we’d come here it had been disastrous. The second I felt a
man near me I felt the fear, the terror that I’d be kidnapped and
then forced into that world again. I’d have given up if Kat hadn’t
continued to push me to come back again and again. We’d dance and
she’d keep close to me and talk to me or sing and make me laugh.
Slowly over time the terror lessoned until I began looking forward
to going out and dancing again.

“Don’t need
the money. Where’s Kat?”

I gestured to
the dance floor, and Brett glanced over then rolled his eyes and
shook his head which unleashed a curl that dangled in front of his
face. I followed his gaze and saw Kat rubbing erotically against
some guy, his hands up under her shirt.

“She’s going
to land herself in deep one of these times. And I’m betting it’ll
be tonight.”

“Why’s that?”
I asked. Kat was always a flirt, but there was something in the way
she treated men that I thought was different in the last couple
years. It wasn’t like she enjoyed their attention, although she
certainly looked like she did. It was more ... like she needed it
and yet hated it at the same time.

Brett shrugged
while pouring a rum and Coke. He plopped a lime in it then slid it
to a young guy a few seats away from me. “Just a feelin’ is
all.”

I noticed he
was still watching Kat. “Why don’t you date her?”

Brett threw
his head back and laughed. “Not touching that sweet ass. Number
one, don’t want or need a relationship. Number two, overprotective
brother, and number three, she belongs to Ream. And he’s back. I’d
like to keep my teeth.” What? Ream? The guy from Logan’s old band?
I’d never met him, but had heard his name when I researched Logan
on the Internet back when we met and Logan had mentioned Ream was a
friend of Deck’s.

Brett leaned
forward, propping his elbows on the bar. “Better keep a close eye
on your girl tonight. She stirs up too much trouble with Ream here
... He won’t like it. Don’t think she even knows he’s back yet. The
band has kept it hush-hush.” The band used to have a large fan base
in Toronto a few years ago, but she’d thought they’d stopped
playing when Logan went to Mexico. Maybe they’d found a new lead
singer. Brett took another order and moved down the bar.

Before I had a
chance to ask, Kat bumped me with her hip and grabbed the guy’s
beer next to us and chugged half of it. She ran her finger down his
shoulder as he stared at her open mouthed. “Thanks, babe.” Her
voice was sultry and sweet, and it was enough to have the guy
drooling instead of complaining.

“Ream? You’ve
been seeing Ream?”

Kat’s
face fell for a brief second before she covered it up with a
half-smile. “We hooked up, Emily—briefly, really brief, like
not-even-worth-mentioning brief. When you and Sculpt ... Well, when
you were gone he was around. Helped out, you know with moving to
the farm and shit. I was upset, and he listened. Then you came
back; I wasn’t freaking anymore, and we hooked up then unhooked.
End of story.” She threw her arm over my shoulders. “Come on, let’s
dance. It’s lonely out there.”

“Kat? Why
didn’t you say anything?”

“It was
nothing, Eme. Besides, you didn’t want to talk about anything to do
with Sculpt.”

She was right.
I would’ve freaked if she’d mentioned Logan or anything to do with
Logan. “Did you sleep with him?”

I knew
immediately she had, because she completely ignored me and started
jumping up and down dancing. Kat handled problems like a kid. You
know when a parent is telling their kid to stop doing something or
to put their toys away and the kid just sits their pretending not
to hear them, but you know damn well he or she does? That was
Kat.

“Come on,
missy, we need to let loose tonight,” Kat grabbed my hand and
yanked me through the crowd to the dance floor.

I liked to
dance, and I was good at it. I could close my eyes and let myself
go. The music thrived in me, and my body moved easily to the beat.
Kat was more of a wild dancer, jumping around, swinging her arms
and singing out loud. And if that wasn’t enough to draw attention
the slinky, red dress certainly did.

My eyes closed
as my body moved back and forth, hips swaying, hands sliding up and
down my sides as I lost myself to Avicii’s new song. Heat surged
into my back and I was about to turn around when hands settled on
my hips. It wasn’t unusual to have a guy come up behind and start
dancing with you, and if he could dance and didn’t push the
boundaries then I was okay with it—well that was a lie. I still
felt uncomfortable, but the images of what happened at Raul’s
dining hall had faded and I no longer freaked out when a guy
touched me from behind thinking he’d suddenly strip me down.

His thighs
brushed against me as he moved closer, placing his hands on top of
mine and sliding them up the curve of my hips to my ribs then back
down again to my thighs. I bit the inside of my cheek to stop from
pushing him away. I could do this. This was my therapy, my way to
convince myself that I was getting over what happened. I used to
dance with strange guys all the time, but that was before Mexico.
Now the feeling of a strange man against me so intimately was
constricting, suffocating.

The guy
pressed closer, his chest against my back as we moved in perfect
rhythm to the beat. I could smell the alcohol on him as he leaned
in, his heated breath sweeping across my bare neck. My stomach
churned, and I swallowed back the bile.

I needed this,
damn it. Logan coming into my life again had put me back down into
a feeling of uncertainty and confusion. I just wanted to feel
confident and free of all the emotions that came with Logan.

His finger
pushed aside my hair so that it lay over my shoulder, and then his
hands went back to my hips. When his tongue touched the tip of my
ear I jerked away, but his hands were ready, and he tugged
back.

“Tease,” he
slurred and chuckled.

“Let me go.”
My heart rate tripled as I struggled to escape his arms. “Stop.
No.”

Suddenly, his
hands were torn from me and I whirled around to see Logan shoving
the guy backward.

“Hey. Fuck,
man.”

That was the
last word my dance partner got out before Logan hauled off and
punched the guy in the face.

He went flying
through the crowd landing on his back on the tiled floor. Logan
stalked toward him his face red, lips pressed together, eyes
narrowed, and brows drawn over them. Oh, God, Logan looked like he
was going to kill him. And he could. Logan was a fighter; his hands
were weapons and ...

“Sculpt, no,”
I shouted as he picked the guy up by the front of the shirt. I
frantically shoved through the onlookers, forcing my way to him. My
hands yanked at his arm. “Let him go. Sculpt.” He’d kill him. I’d
never seen this side of Logan. Even when he was in the ring, he’d
been in complete control. This was out of control and so unlike
him. “Logan, please.”

The use of his
real name seemed to work as Logan turned toward me. I gasped when I
saw the steel, cold look in his eyes. He looked dominant,
unyielding and furious.

He dropped my
dance partner to the floor. Three security guys pushed forward and
picked up my dance partner taking him away, but I kept my focus on
Logan.

“What are
you—”

Logan grabbed
my hand and pulled me through the gawking crowd to the bar. He
pushed up the bar flap, then slammed his palm into the swinging
back door then dragged me halfway down the hall. He stopped, backed
me into the wall, and then trapped me, his hands over my head, him
towering over me.

“Logan—”

“No.” He
abruptly cut me off. I jumped, and he noticed. It was then I saw
the fury slowly dissipate from his eyes. The lines around his mouth
eased, and he drew in a deep breath. “Tell me you’re not seeing
that asshole.”

“No. But he
didn’t deserve—”

“He had his
tongue in your fuckin’ ear.”

“No, he
didn’t.” Well, not technically anyway, but even if he did, the guy
certainly didn’t merit a fist to his face for it. “And even if he
had, it has nothing to do with you.”

“It fuckin’
does, Eme. I didn’t wait two years to get to you only to watch some
dick with his hands and tongue all over you.”

Oh. My. God.
He’d lost it. Mr. Cool and Calm had literally blown a gasket. He
was always in control of his emotions, even before Mexico. He’d hid
them well, except maybe his desire. “Sculpt, I was dancing. With a
guy. It wasn’t a big deal.” But it was. God, it was, because I
hated a stranger’s hands on me. “I can dance with whoever I
want.”

He grabbed me
by the shoulders and leaned in, his eyes dark, pulse throbbing in
his neck. “Not while I’m still breathing, you can’t.”

We stared at
one another, emotions rocketing with anger, and yes, there was
desire. We’d always had that between us, and even years later it
pulsated.

“Why are you
being like this?” I tried to keep my voice steady, but it quaked
under his intensity, and Logan knew how to do intensity. “What
right do you have to come here and start punching a guy I’m dancing
with?”

He growled
then backed away while running his hand through his hair before he
came back and cupped my chin. “Mouse.”

“And don’t
call me that.”

A quiet calm
came over him. I saw the change as if a shield lowered. I’d
recognize that familiar coldness anywhere. “I will smash through
them.”

“Smash through
what?”

“The Legos,
Emily.”

“And I told
you it’s not happening.”

Kat came
careening through the door. “Shit, there you are. Sculpt, what was
that? Matt’s furious. That guy you punched wants to press
charges.”

Logan pushed
away from the wall and shrugged.

“Everyone saw
what you did. Matt is trying to calm him down, luckily you didn’t
break anything. Otherwise the police would have to be called.”

“Sculpt!” A
guy yelled. I looked down the hall and saw three guys coming out of
a back room. “We’re up.”

“Yeah.
Coming.” Logan chin-lifted to them and then turned back to me. His
expression softened, and I felt myself melt just that tiny bit.

Logan being
here was making my resolve to keep my emotions under control to
fail miserably. His fingers slid across my collar bone back and
forth, soft and slow.

“You still
play?” I asked.

He moved in.
My butterflies I hadn’t felt in two years started to cheer when a
slow smile formed lighting up his eyes. God, why did he have to
smile? When he smiled like this I saw the man I fell in love. It
plowed over me, and I felt everything he’d once meant to me.

The back of
his hand brushed across my cheek. It was a fleeting moment, but
still it sucked the breath right out of me. I put it off to the
alcohol, but I knew Logan could make my body lose itself to him
with a mere touch.

“We’re called
Tear Asunder now.” He ran his finger over the cleft on my chin.
“We’re finally touring.”

This time my
breath did leave as I stared. His dream. All those days we’d spent
sitting in the horse fields, him with his guitar, me watching the
horses. “The band is still together?” With everything that had
happened, he was still following his dream. Logan never let
anything stop him; he was determined and relentless. It was one the
reason I’d been attracted to him.

“Yeah, Eme. I
needed to do something to keep from coming for you.” He leaned in
so close that his mouth touched my neck just below my ear. “God,
you smell the same.” He sighed. “Let me in.”

Memories like
ours lived with you forever, and I’d managed to numb them out. Now,
with Logan back, they hit full force. “Sculpt, you gave me my
dream. I ... I can’t even find words to tell you what that did for
me after ...” I closed my eyes and felt him stiffen. “But I can’t.”
The words were soft, and I didn’t even know if he heard me.

Kat
cleared her throat, and it took him a second before he moved away
and turned to Kat and said, “Matt reserved a table for you both
near the stage.” Then he looked at me again. “Stay and hear me
sing, Eme.” He paused briefly as if waiting for a response from me,
then turned and strode down the hall, and disappeared around the
corner.