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Someone had hurt him. Specifically targeted him. And fuck, I wanted to bash their face into a brick fucking wall.
“Logan and I will follow you to your house. Do you think you can drive?”
He nodded, his face still too pale for my liking. The color had even left his lips. I pressed a hard kiss to his lips, my hands tightening on his face for a moment. “Be safe,” I rasped before I backed away and spun on my heel, heading toward my car a couple of rows over from his. I was too angry to even wait to see him with Logan.
I needed a goddamn moment to compose myself. It was rare I got this mad. Honestly, Logan was usually the cause of me getting this pissed off. But someone fucking with Spencer and also inadvertently targeting Logan had me ready to explode.
I was going to find out who the fuck they were. Not having a profile picture up wouldn’t stop me from figuring it out, and when I did, they had better hope God was real. Because I was going to fuck them up.
My phone rang as I pulled out behind Spencer, Logan behind me. Glancing down at it, I saw Logan’s name on the screen. “Yeah?” I grunted when I answered.
“I’m going to stop by the store and get a pack of cigarettes and grab Spencer some snacks. I’ll meet you two at Spencer’s in a bit. You want anything?”
I sighed, glad he was thinking of what Spencer might need. “Nah, babe. I’m good. Just be careful, yeah?”
Logan chuckled. “Always am, baby.”
He ended the call and turned off the main road onto a side street. I sighed and tried to force my muscles to relax. I needed to because Spencer was going to need me, and until Logan could get there and help me keep our boy distracted, I was on my own.
* * *
Spencer’s dad was on a business call when we walked into the house. He waved at us before focusing back on his call all while making quick work of cutting up the onion in front of him. I watched him for a moment, no doubt looking like a creep. But shit, Logan hadn’t been wrong when he said Spencer’s dad was hot.
He was a total DILF.
I really hoped Spencer looked like him when he got older.
Spencer grabbed my hand, jerking my attention away from his dad as he dropped the chopped onion into a sizzling pan on the stove. “Stop drooling over my dad,” he grumbled, tugging me in the direction of his room.
I snickered. “Baby, if you look like him when you get to be his age, I’m going to keep you stuffed so full of cum?—”
Spencer smacked my chest, a blush staining his cheeks. I chuckled and backed him into his room, happy to see some color returning to his cheeks. “Can you not?” he hissed. “What if my dad hears you?”
I snorted and shut his door before backing him up against the bed. “Your dad has to know how hot he is.”
Spencer rolled his eyes. “You and Logan are the worst.”
I chuckled as he sat on the bed and scooted backward, his back settling against his headboard. I followed him and settled between his spread thighs on my stomach. I looked up at him, my elbows braced on either side of his hips. “You like us anyway.”
He sighed and carded his fingers through my hair, a soft smile tilting his lips. “I do,” he murmured. My chest tightened at the tender look in his eyes. “You two mean…more to me than I can ever put into words.”
I pressed a kiss to his jean-clad thigh. “I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with you both,” I told him. “I know people will expect me to choose, but—” I shook my head. “I won’t. Because like you, I can’t picture a life without both of you in it. I can’t…” I drew in a deep breath. “I now understand how you felt when you told me you never wanted to choose. I never want to choose either, baby.”
His other hand stroked over my jaw. “People are going to talk about you,” he warned me.
I chuckled and shrugged. “My skin is tougher than that, baby. I can handle it. What I can’t handle is someone talking shit about you. And when I find out who posted that shit, they’ll?—”
Spencer’s phone began to vibrate in his back pocket, cutting me off. He leaned up a little to pull it out, a frown pulling at his lips when he saw the number for the police department on it.
Oh, God. I knew in my gut that it was Logan.
The fucker had lied to me. He hadn’t gone to the goddamn store at all. I knew it without even having to hear why Spencer was getting a phone call from the police station—a collect call. Which meant Logan was in a fucking holding cell.
“Hello?” Spencer asked. His eyes widened. “Logan?!” he exclaimed.
“Hey, pretty boy,” I heard Logan tell him.
Logan, what the fuck did you do?
