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Those aren’t the words that come out of my mouth, even though they likely should be.

Instead, I swallow around my burning throat and blink back tears. “Some things can’t be undone.”

Huck stares at me a moment, jaw working at the corners. “You’re right. Some things can’t be undone. But they can be forgiven.”

I can’t even look at him. My attention returns to the show as Taylor hypes up the crowd, standing in the middle of the dirt with his hands in the air.

Huck’s voice comes out softer this time. “She loves you, Loge. I know it. You think she’d be this pissed if she didn’t?”

I clench my teeth so hard they ache. “She deserves better.”

And I believe that with every shattered piece of my heart.

“You don't get to decide that for her,” he sighs, but I shake my head as I step away.

Because I already have.

Chapter

Nine

Logan

The rest of the week flies by, but I hardly remember a goddamn thing.

One show blurs into another, day after day, while I struggle to hold the most basic of conversations. Talking becomes a chore. If it weren't for Salem forcing us all into a routine every morning, I’d never leave the RV.

Sleeping is non-existent. Not when Devon wanders in late every night higher than a kite, collapsing next to me reeking of Marijuana and booze.

Not when my wife is still sleeping in the bed of Taylor’s truck.

Shifting on the mattress to get comfortable, I blink at my laptop, thankful that Dev isn't here yet. Everyone's relaxing after a day of sightseeing since we're taking off for Kentucky tomorrow—more stuff I zombied my way through. Some movie plays on the small TV that I can't be bothered to pay attention to. Can't pay attention to anything anymore.

Salem’s itinerary for the trip stares back at me, as do cities, budgets, and schedules that I've read over a dozen times already, but the information won't stick. I can't fucking focus. All I can think about is the disappointment in Taylor's eyes this afternoon when he'd tried to talk to me over lunch.

“We brought you here because we needed you,” he'd said. “Needed our business manager. Salem’s been doing a lot of shit herself. Come on, man.”

His words were gentle, but I read between the lines: “Start pulling your weight." And I'm trying. First order of business is to find a way for Arya and Dev to be useful. If I could just fucking focus.

The screen door whines on its hinges, and I tense, expecting my adopted brother to stumble in. When I glance up, though, Salem stands in the doorway, scratching at her arms. A crop top hugs her frame, belly button ring glittering above the hem of her sweats. My chest tightens at the sight.

“I have to drive tomorrow,” she mumbles, eyes red and tired. “And I’m sick of feeding the damn mosquitoes. Can I…” Hesitating, she bites her lip. “Can I switch with you or Dev? Just for tonight.”

I swallow hard, forcing my gaze back to the screen. “Sure. He's not here right now, so…”

She tiptoes in, slipping off her shoes before crawling into the other side of the bed without looking at me.

For a while, there’s nothing but background noise—her soft breath, the TV I'm pretty sure everyone fell asleep to, the hum of the RV’s generator outside. My pulse pounds in my ears, but for the first time all week, I feel like I can finally think clearly. The words on the screen start to make sense, so I pull up a document and start making notes.

Eventually, the mattress dips. I glance over to see Salem propped on an elbow, peeking at the laptop.

“What’re you working on?” she asks softly.

“Our itinerary. Seeing if the sponsors are happy, reviewing what we've spent so far, checking profits. Taylor's been on my ass about it.”

She hums, resting her chin on her arm to watch. “I didn’t know you handled all that stuff.”

With a shrug, I fight the urge to lean into her warmth. The clean, fruity scent of her body wash is doing ungodly things to my dick. “It’s what I was hired for.”