Torn from You (32 page)

“Sweetness, looking mighty fine on that
bike.” Crisis winked. “I’m thinkin’ now I need to get myself one.”
His slight draw was sex on wheels with that voice and look. “Pussy
tight against—”

Logan interrupted abruptly. “And you know
Kite.” I nodded to him, and he smiled. With those cheekbones and
brilliant green eyes, he must have broken hearts in every bar they
went. “Emily. Good to see you again.”

Kite had ink all over his arms, and the left
side of his neck was a hawk or eagle in flight. He had a shaved
head and several piercings, one being on his left eye brow. He
looked scary, but he’d been sweet when he’d protected me against
Matt’s wraith that night we snuck in to watch Logan’s underground
fight.

“Hey, Kite.”

“And you know Ream.”

“Um, yeah. We met briefly at Georgie’s and
again last night.” Kat’s sexy, hot monster that lacked a smile but
oozed in sex appeal.

“Be right back.” Logan went inside, and the
screen door slammed shut behind him.

I sat on the wooden swing chair, and it
creaked.

“Haven’t seen Sculpt look so relaxed in
months.” Kite winked at me.

“He’s been a fuckin’ asshole,” Crisis
said.

“You’ve been the asshole. With that shit you
pulled with that chick’s boyfriend. Not doing us any favors,” Ream
said. “You know you can leave the band any time you want.”

Whoa. I was uncertain what was going on, but
Ream was glaring at Crisis, and Crisis was smirking.

The screen door creaked open, and Logan came
out holding two cold beers. He passed me one then sat beside me,
his thigh right up against mine. He put his arm around the back of
the swing, his fingers weaving into my hair as he played with
it.

“Sculpt says you’ve been doing well with the
talking to horses thing,” Kite said.

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call it talking to
horses. But yes, I communicate to them in their language—body
language you could say.”

“Know any other body language talkers,
Emily? This horse could use a real talking to.” Crisis looked down
at himself, and both Ream and Kite sprayed beer out their
mouths.

Ream wiped his mouth with the back of his
hand. “Don’t pay attention to him, Emily. He’s just pissed his
little pony didn’t get any last night.”

Logan stiffened. “Jesus, guys. Enough.”

“Ream, what the fuck’s your issue? On your
monthly again?” Crisis set his beer down hard on the table beside
him. “You all pissy because Kat asked me to go riding tomorrow and
not you? Bet you’re wondering what kind of riding we’ll be
doing.”

Ream was clenching his fists, and Crisis was
smiling as if he wanted to fight. Logan leaned into me, his arm
around shoulders pulling me closer as he whispered, “Baby. Shit,
I’m sorry.”

Crisis took a long drag of beer. “Logan was
brooding and quiet, Emily. I swear the only time he spoke was when
we got up on stage. I don’t know why the fuck it took him ten
months to get back here. Jesus, if I was screwing something hot
like you, I’d have been back to Toronto fucking pronto.”

“Jesus, Crisis. Cool it.” Logan glared at
him and was shaking his head back and forth.

“Two years you mean,” Eme corrected.

Crisis’s brow rose and he raised his beer to
Logan. “You’re up, buddy.”

“Logan?”

He swept my hair back with his fingers then
trailed a caress down the side of my face. “Took a while to get
back. Needed some time alone after that shit.”

“What Deck was talking about?”

He paused and I thought he wasn’t going to
tell me then he said, “Yeah.”

I didn’t push it. It wasn’t the time or
place to talk about it, but I was glad that he didn’t close me down
this time.

“Sweet mother of God, look at her.” Crisis
stood, his eyes on Kat who was walking toward the house. She had on
a pair of tight faded cut-off jeans, an even tighter turquoise tank
top, and a pair of leather paddock boots. “I so need to get into
her pants.”

Ream caught what Crisis was looking at, and
I saw the instant tension go from his jaw right down to his feet.
His eyes narrowed, and his brows lowered. His hands clenched the
railing, and if the wood had any give in it, the thing was breaking
under the pressure.

Kat walked up the steps.

“Fuck, babe. Lookin’ good. That sweet ass
can sit in my saddle anytime,” Crisis said.

Kat laughed, but she didn’t object and
sauntered close to Crisis and snagged his beer, chugging back half
of it before setting it back down on the table. That was becoming a
habit of hers. Her slow, long lick of her lips had Crisis
groaning.

“Jesus, Kat. Put some fucking clothes on.”
Ream’s voice was bitter and cruel “You gonna screw everyone in the
band like some groupie?”

Holy wow. Ream was raging mad. Like bull
fighting mad. I could see his temples throbbing, and his lips were
pursed together—tight.

Kat didn’t flinch, and I have to say I was
proud of her. She smiled and put her arm around Crisis who
instantly reciprocated by placing his hand in her back jean pocket
and squeezing her ass.

“Least it’s only four of you. Not like you
... fucking the hundreds of groupies who kiss your goddamn feet
like they’re made of ice cream.”

“Oh they’re not kissing my feet, Kitkat. The
ice cream is up a bit further,” Ream shot back.

“Yeah, cold and always melting.”

Insulting a man’s dick was the quickest way
to him hating you, and it looked like that was what she was aiming
for.

Crisis and Kite threw back their heads in
hysterics.

“That’s only when you’re around,” Ream
said.

Kat came at him, her cool finally breaking.
Crisis snagged her around the waist as she kicked and shouted to
let her go. He whispered something in her ear, and she settled
down, but Ream was striding toward her and Crisis, and he was ready
to pop a blood vessel.

“Not tonight, Ream. Let it the fuck go.”
Kite slapped Ream on the back, his hand digging into his shoulder,
halting him.

“I swear, Kitkat, I’m going to—”

“Take a walk,” Logan suddenly thundered.

“You’ll regret it man, leave it alone.” Kite
guided him down the porch steps, and I saw Ream plow his fist into
the pillar at the bottom of the steps.

“What’s with them?” I whispered to
Logan.

“I don’t know. But whatever it is, they need
to work it out before they kill one another.”

Watching Ream walk across the yard with
Kite, I knew whatever made Ream and Kat lash out at one another was
big. I tried to recall Kat acting weird back when I’d come back
from Mexico but I had been so self-absorbed after what happened
that I may have missed it.

“So, barbecue. Steaks or burgers?” Crisis
had let Kat go, but his hand was still in her back pocket. Kat was
zoned out, eyes focused on one thing—Ream.

“You good with steaks?” Logan asked me.

“Well, I’m not really hungry—”

“You’re eating, and then you’re in my bed,”
Logan said quietly.

My breath hitched. “Logan, I—”

He was keeping his voice low, so others
wouldn’t hear. “Eme, we’ve slept together before.”

It was like a medicine ball was lodged in my
throat. I tried again. “That was different.”

“Did you want to sleep with me?”

“What?”

“Answer me, Eme.”

“That isn’t fair.”

“I’m asking for the truth. Did you?”

“Well, I didn’t really have—”

“Eme.”

God. “Yes. But Logan, I need some time to
digest this. It’s too fast, and—”

He pulled me to my feet and dragged me into
the house, down a hallway then opened the door to the office. He
slammed it behind us. “You had time.”

I backed away until I was up against a desk,
my hands gripping the edge.

“But mainly, you’re lying.” He
approached.

I knew that look; it was unbending.
Determined. And I wasn’t afraid. Not for one second.

I took several deep breaths.

“I see it.” His voice was graveled and
low.

What did he see? I raised my chin and locked
my jaw.

“You want me.” He kept his distance a few
feet away. “Stop denying it. I know who you are. I know what you
need and what your body needs. There wasn’t a single time you
weren’t turned on when we were together. Not once.”

“You’re wrong. Public sex wasn’t my
thing.”

He took the final steps toward me. I
couldn’t control it. Unleashed need blanketed me. He must have seen
it, saw me wavering on the edge, the hook that was holding me back
from trusting him slowly ripping from my skin.

“Let me love you.”

And then I did what I wanted to do since the
day he walked back into my life. I crumpled into his arms, and
Logan wrapped me in his warm protective embrace. “I loved you,
Logan. You didn’t care what they did to me, and it was devastating.
I know now why and that you had to, but sometimes ... I never want
to feel that helpless again.”

Logan caressed my hair while his other hand
linked with mine and gave a reassuring squeeze. “Whatever happens
between us now, it’s because we both want it. No one—no one will
ever make you feel helpless again. Baby, I love you. I never
stopped, and regardless of how destitute you felt, you weren’t
alone. You’ll never be helpless. You’re too strong.” His fingers
stroked the side of my face. “You know what the first thing my
mother taught me in that place? To take emotion out of the
equation. That’s what always made me a good fighter. I never lost
control.” He sighed. “I’ve hide my emotions for a long time. I’m
good at it.”

“When I came back here for you, I needed you
to see who I am, and yeah, I’ve lost it a few times like with your
dance partner at the bar. But Mouse, I’m letting you see all of me
so you can learn to trust me again. I need you to trust me
again.”

I knew that whatever Logan said or did it
was always about protecting me. He pushed his authority and liked
control, but I trusted him. Sexually, I craved that escape he gave
me. It set me free from decisions and as Logan would say, “Lego
building”.

I sniffled and few tears fell. “I’m sorry.
For what you and your mother have been through.”

He kissed the tears. “Baby.”

I knew that whatever Logan said or did it
was to protect me.

Nothing more was said as he held me close.
It felt right in his arms. He had done everything for me. That
emotionless cage he locked himself in to hide his feelings from his
father was to save me. He’d suffered too. We both did. And maybe my
body had known all along that the Logan I hated was also the Logan
I loved. Maybe my body knew that the man I feared wasn’t the real
Logan.

“You good, Eme?”

I nodded into his chest, the feel of his
muscles sliding across my cheek.

“You’re sleeping with me from now on.”

My fingers curled into his shirt. Then I
nodded.

“You need something from me, tell me. We
fight this shit together.”

A knock sounded on the door and Crisis
yelled, “Hey you guys done makin’ out? Fuckin’ starving here.”

“Emily?”

“Okay.” It was a whisper of one word, and
with it every Lego previously built up in my head crumbled to the
ground at Logan’s feet.

I was letting him back in.

He caressed the side of my face, and I
leaned into it, sighing. “Make a salad with Kat. We’ll do the
steaks and potatoes on the barbecue. Okay?”

I nodded.

He took my hand and walked us out of the
office.

When the boys yelled that the steaks were
ready, Kat and I brought the salad and wine outside to the table on
the deck which overlooked the pool. There was never lack of
conversation as the men shared stories of the bars they’d performed
in and then the excitement over acquiring their new manager
Daryl.

“How long are you guys staying?” I asked,
uncertain what Logan’s plans were.

“Not sure yet, sugar,” Crisis replied. “But
I’m liking staying here if it means I get to check out two hot
chicks every morning.” Crisis winked at me, but when he looked at
Logan, he was backtracking. “From a distance. Like a mile. Maybe
ten miles. Fuck, sorry sweet stuff, but not going to admire you at
all. I’ll just admire Kat.”

Kite chuckled. “You can admire all the babes
you want at the party.”

“Fuck yeah. Sweet asses aplenty.” Crisis
wiggled his brows. “This horse needs some jumping.”

“You’re a pig,” Kat said laughing.

Crisis leaned over and put his arm around
her, pulling her close. “How high can you jump, sugar?”

“She doesn’t jump. Kitkat plows right
through.” Ream shoved back his chair, picked up his plate, and went
inside. There was a loud bang and then crash. Then the front door
slammed.

“Shit, Kat. You ever goin’ tell us what the
fuck went down between you two?” Kite sat back and stretched out
his legs, crossing his ankles.

“No.” She pushed back her chair and crossed
her legs. “And it doesn’t matter, I’m never touching that
again.”

Crisis coughed bullshit under his breath,
and Kat smacked his arm. He rubbed it and feigned a pout.

Logan stood up and brought me with him. He
leaned over and whispered. “Help me with the dishes?”

“Yeah, sure.” I may have been missing from
Logan’s life for two years, but I knew exactly what he was doing.
Time alone.

Three trips with dishes to the kitchen, and
then I was rinsing off the plates in the sink when Logan came up
behind me and swept my hair aside with the lightest touch of his
finger.

“Eme. Why are you doing that? We have a
dishwasher.” He shut off the tap, took my hands and pulled me
around to face him. Then he grabbed me by the hips and lifted me up
onto the counter.

“Logan.”

He put his arm around my waist, the other to
the nape of my neck. “Fuck, I love it when you say my name. I need
to taste you again, baby.” He pulled me toward him. The heat of his
mouth hit the spot just below my ear and goose bumps sparked across
my skin. He trickled light kisses downward, his tongue playing,
tasting.