“I’m not running, Logan. That’s different from doing what you tell me. I want that part on the record.”
The corner of his mouth curves. “Noted.”
I’m still sore from last night, but I want to be close to him. I motion to the bed. “Are we going to…”
“Not tonight.” He kisses my forehead. “We both need to sleep. And I don’t want you to be too sore. But I want to hold you. Sound good?”
A smile spreads everywhere inside me. “Sounds perfect.”
nine
. . .
Logan
The next morning,Reeves and I sit at the booth nearest the front window, working through positioning plans. No one has seen Volkov, which means we need to cover all possibilities. The tension in the air is thick enough to taste, a low hum of readiness that every man in the room feels.
The bell chimes over the door.
I glance over.
Fucking Chaz Volkov stands in the doorway wearing a black leather jacket. He scans the room, and I nearly laugh, knowing what he must see.
Mason at the corner of the counter. Four Ridge men at the booth in the back. Two of Reeves’s team stand by the kitchen pass-through. Two in another booth. Me at the front with a Seattle PD officer across the table.
Sophie stands behind the counter at the espresso machine. Roz carries a tray out of the kitchen. Dani is refilling Mrs. Callahan’s coffee at her usual booth.
The calculation that the room is wrong happens in real time based on Volkov’s expression. He reaches into the jacket, pullsout a compact handgun, and moves toward the counter faster than the room is set up to handle.
“Sophie,” I yell.
She stands behind the counter, her hand on the espresso machine.
I’m moving.
The Ridge men move. Jesse is on his feet, carrying a sidearm and heading toward Roz, who is frozen with the tray in her hands. Jesse brings her to the ground and covers her body with his.
Gideon stands with his weapon drawn and his back to a booth with a sightline on Volkov. He’s the only one in the room with a clean angle, but he’s holding fire because of Sophie.
Wells has Mrs. Callahan and Dani covered in the booth. He also has a gun pulled.
Cole is angled on Volkov’s flank with his weapon at his side, waiting for the order.
Mason holds his revolver and braces his other hand on the counter, six feet from Sophie, holding fire for the same reason as Gideon. No one wants to risk hitting Sophie.
Reeves stands between Volkov and the front door. Reeves’s men are out of the kitchen pass-through. I assume they’re covering the back door.
All of this happens in the time it takes me to clear the booth.
Volkov vaults the counter, and his weapon is at Sophie’s temple before the heel of his boot touches the floor. Cover and leverage in the same beat.
Sophie doesn’t flinch. The diner goes silent.
“King.” His voice is even. He’s done this before.
I want to kill him, but I can’t put Sophie at risk. “Volkov.”
“Stand down, Sheriff. You and your friends. Then Miss Wilde and I are going to walk out of here. And the next time you see me will be never.”
