Torn from You (30 page)

Ream strode into the kitchen looking just as
bad as Kat. The tension went from about sixty to a thousand within
seconds. Kat’s back stiffened and she glared at Ream who was
avoiding looking at her all together. He did say morning though
then grabbed a mug and poured a coffee.

Ream chin-lifted to Logan. I noticed his
quick glance at Kat. “Where are Crisis and Kite?”

“Went to Avalanche last night. This morning
... passed out with chicks I suspect.”

Ream huffed. “Thinking I should’ve been with
them.”

The scrape of the stool moving across the
hardwood floors sounded then Kat took off to her bedroom. I noticed
as soon as her back was turned, Ream’s eyes never left her.

When Logan said he’d drive, I didn’t expect
it to be on his motorcycle, I mean, I should’ve, but I didn’t think
about it.

He stroked the handlebars, his long fingers
a gentle caress like he was touching a woman’s back. My lips parted
as I watched.

Damn it, I was going to explode before I
even got on the bloody bike.

“You’ve been on my bike before, why do you
look like I’m asking you to kick a kitten?”

“I just ... it’s been a while. I’m
uncomfortable.” What woman wouldn’t want to ride on the back of a
bike with someone like Logan. This situation is like a fantasy come
true and another step toward what I was desperately trying to
avoid.

“Uncomfortable? I assume it’s having your
pussy tight to my ass that has you—uncomfortable.” His lips quirked
upward, and it catapulted me back to when he’d been eyeing a bike
at the corner store where we used to stop and get ice cream. His
eyes had lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. He had a bike; I’d
been on it, but it was nothing like the one we saw that day.

The owner came out of the store, and they
chatted for a half hour about motors while I went and got us ice
cream sandwiches then ate both of them while leaning up against his
truck admiring his sweet ass.

“You remember that bike we—”

“Saw at the convenience store,” I finished.
“Yeah. You had a hard-on for it.”

Logan choked back a laugh, and the sound
sent a thrill of desire straight through me. “Eme. I had a hard-on
for you. The bike was a bonus.” He picked up a helmet then gently
slid it down over my head. He tucked in strands of hair then did up
the chin strap. He leaned back. “You still rock a helmet,
baby.”

I don’t know what came over me, but I hit a
pose, putting my finger to my mouth and cocking my hip with my
other hand resting on it.

This time he laughed outright, flashing his
white, perfectly aligned teeth. I turned into a splat of butter
sizzling on high heat. The guy was brooding and demanding most of
the time. When he laughed, it was like filling me up with a
rainbow.

He turned serious. “You still don’t get how
hot you are, do you?”

No. I was fine with how I looked; I mean, I
accepted what I was given.

“Your mother is a piece of work. She put you
down to make herself feel better. You deserve better than a
piss-drunk mother.”

“She had issues. And Logan, I think your
father takes the ‘piece of work’ award.”

“Fuckin’ right he does. When we’re good,
you’re meeting my mom and finding out what a real one is like.”

I was taken aback by Logan’s casual mention
of his mom and me meeting her. He was right, my mom was a bitch.
She never gave a crap when I moved out and in with Kat and Matt.
The only time I heard from her was if she broke up with a guy and
needed money, which I rarely had. Since she knew nothing about the
farm or where to find me, I hadn’t spoken to her in years.

“Eme?” He stroked a line down my nose. “You
have that look. What’s happening in that non-stop thinking brain of
yours?”

“Nothing.”

He slipped his hand into mine, and our
fingers linked. The scent of his soap drifted into me, and I
inhaled deep, closing my eyes. I couldn’t let go even if a train
came between us. I wanted to cry for what I was slowly
losing—myself. I was losing myself to him again, and no matter how
much I wanted to keep him out, he was breaking his way back in. But
he’d leave with the band again, and I’d leave his farm. Even though
Logan had given me the ability to have my dream, it wasn’t my farm.
I’d lived off Matt, now Logan. I couldn’t do it anymore. I
wouldn’t. And soon, I’d have enough money to get my own place.

“Emily?” I met his eyes. “Let go of what
happened for today.”

Did I have that in me? Could I let the old
Logan I loved in for one day?

“Baby.”

The bike. The horses. Logan looking at me
like I was the only woman in the world. All reminders. Could I
trust him? No, that wasn’t the question anymore, I realized. It was
could I trust myself with him?

I nodded, and the weight of the helmet
slipped forward, and he grinned as he shifted it back. “Small head
considering all the shit it carries around.”

I smiled. He was right.

He put on his helmet, and I slapped my hand
on the top where the painted skull was. Underneath were the words
Tear Asunder. “What does it mean? I mean I know it means tear
apart, but what does it mean to the band? Why the band name?”

“What was done to us. The band voted. And
since the band was also torn apart for a while, as well as you and
I, well, it fit.”

He snapped the kickstand up then started the
bike, revving the throttle. He nodded to me, and I slipped on
behind him. I was in shock. It meant ... it meant Logan had seen
what happened between them as being torn apart. Not him pushing me
away. Or me escaping him. It was both of us—Torn apart. Forced.
Ripped. Broken.

Did the band know the details of what
happened? They had to know about Logan’s father and my kidnapping,
but how much more?

The moment I slid up against him, my inner
thighs next to his outer, my pelvis tight to his ass, I felt the
scorching heat sweep through my veins. “Logan?” I barely said his
name; it was a hint of a whisper.

“We were torn apart, because Eme—I’d never
have stayed away from you any other way.”

I had nothing to fight with. Nothing. I felt
like falling against him and sobbing for him, for us, and for what
had been done to us both.

His hand rested on my thigh, and he
squeezed. “Feet.” I put my feet up. “Need you closer. Arms.” I
snuggled in, and then felt the rumble in his chest and what sounded
like a groan. “Christ, how far is this place?”

“Logan?” I wanted to tell him ... to have
him turn and look at me so I could tell him that I felt it too. We
had been torn apart.

“Not now, baby.” He shook his head once.
“How far?”

I relented. “An hour.” I wrapped my arms
around his waist, my fingers interlocking. I felt the muscles of
his abdomen against my forearms, rock hard and tense. He was
breathing in and out rather quickly, and I bet if I reached down
I’d feel the hardness a little lower. I bit my lip, swallowed, and
then closed my eyes.

“Fuck.” Logan shot off, careening down the
driveway as if the bike was part of him, and they were part of the
road.

It took me five minutes before I relaxed
into him. Then I raised my head that had been pressed up against
his back and it felt like old times.

It was exhilarating.

The vibration of power beneath me took hold
and refused to let go. I felt part of him again.

This was something he loved, which made me
love it too.

The ride went by too quickly. Logan stopped
the bike outside the gates to a long driveway lined with willow
trees. Paddocks with thoroughbreds grazing on the lush grass lined
either side. The owner had called me about a racehorse that’d been
in an accident. The trailer had flipped over on the Four Hundred
highway, and the horse had been trapped for hours. It took the Jaws
of Life to get the stallion out, and since then, the horse panicked
whenever he felt pressure on him. According to the owner, the
champion racehorse also couldn’t go into a stall without a
tranquilizer.

Logan rolled the bike up to the intercom and
pressed the button. A male, heavily accented voice, asked if I was
Emily. The gates opened as soon as I verified who I was.

I gestured to the long driveway. “Take it
slow, rock star. Scare the horses, and I lose this job.”

The twitch in the outer corner of his lips
appeared. “I like you calling me rock star, Mouse.” He turned back,
revved the throttle then passed through the gates at a snail’s
pace.

It took all of five seconds after meeting
the owner of the estate and the racehorse before I had to stop
Logan from knocking the guy on his ass. Tattooed rock star
ex-fighter and rich developer didn’t mix; unfortunately developer
guy Rob wanted his racehorse fixed, and supposedly, I was his last
hope.

Blame it on the sweetness of my name—shit, I
don’t know—but Rob took me in with his eyes, and it was clear he
planned to have me in his bed by noon. Logan was juicing up his
male testosterone, ready to slam his fist through Rob’s
aristocratic face as soon as Rob’s eyes went from my face down to
my toes.

Rob wore a cocky expression and a half-smile
as he took my hand and kissed it. “I wasn’t expecting a beautiful
woman. I’m a little caught off guard here, Emily. I’m suddenly
wishing now that I was the stallion with the issue.”

Uh oh.

Logan was standing behind me, but out of
nowhere he was in front, the bulldog effect. I put my hand on his
arm and squeezed.
Please don’t ruin this for me.
Rob was
willing to pay whatever it took, and the horse needed me.

Rob laughed; it was more of a fake crackle
really. “Sculpt from Tear Asunder. Just saw your picture in the
Toronto Now
magazine. Didn’t know you had a hand in horses.
Not thoroughbreds, I imagine. I know everyone in the racing world.
Shetlands, perhaps?”

I balked. I knew Logan wouldn’t have any
idea what a Shetland was, and I was thanking God for that. The
miniature ponies were cute and fuzzy, not something Logan would
find amusing coming from Rob.

“Emily and I bring in abused horses. We’re
not prejudice about the breed.” Logan looped his arm around my
shoulders and tugged me close. Logan obviously believed that
possession was nine-tenths of the law.

Suddenly Logan had made us into a couple,
and I was uncertain whether he was just saying that to give Rob
that impression or if he really did consider us together.

Rob’s brows rose. “Oh, I didn’t realize. And
the pretty blonde in the picture?”

Wow. Rob knew how to play hardball, and I
tried to ignore the comment, but still a wave of jealousy sifted
through me at the thought of any pretty blonde on his arm. Was she
a groupie maybe? Kat said the band was pretty popular now, and
there would be tons of girls wanting more than just a picture with
Logan.

I cleared my throat trying to draw both of
their attention away from one another. “So, where’s the horse?”

Logan set his helmet down on the seat of his
bike. It was a calculated move—slow, deliberate, and it freed up
his hands. I’m sure Rob had no idea that Logan grew up
fighting.

And I was going to lose a client which
possibly meant a whole slew of new clients.

“I don’t play games,
Richard
. Emily
belongs with me. You want to fuck with that then we have a problem.
Give me a problem, then it makes Emily have one. She wants to work
for an ass like you, that’s her business. You hitting on her,
that’s mine.”

Yeah. I just lost a client.

My heart was racing probably just as fast as
a thoroughbred’s in a starting gate. Rob was watching us both, his
face showing me nothing as to whether he was going to kick us off
the property or not.

“Let’s see that horse, shall we.” Rob turned
and walked towards the barn, and I breathed a heavy sigh of relief.
Then I smacked Logan in the chest. I hurt my hand, but refused to
admit to it.

Logan didn’t react, but what he did do was
cup my face, lean down and meet my eyes. “You, Emily. You’re worth
fighting for. I fought all my life, but never for anything
worthwhile. Now ... Now I’m fighting for my heart. Bullshit ends
here and now.”

Any argument I had was burned with those
words. But I couldn’t help still imagining him with his arm around
some blonde. I pulled from his grasp and stepped back. “And the
blonde?”

His look of surprise changed to a smile.
“Blonde was a fan, baby. Wanted an autograph for her little
brother.” He was quick as he snagged me around the waist and kissed
me on the lips. “But I love you being jealous. It’s hot.”

“Hey, you coming? Horse is behind the
stable,” Rob called.

Logan dropped his hands from my waist and I
turned and headed for the barn, hearing Logan’s sexy chuckle behind
me.