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“You should have told me you didn’t like being alone right now. You’re still going to be alone there too, though. I don’t really know what to do,” he says, sounding truly guilt-ridden and exhausted.
I glare at Hadley, who merely beams at me.
“I’ll be okay,” I assure him, hugging him tighter, plotting the ways I’m going to hurt Hadley. “Promise.”
He pulls back, lifting my chin so he can see into my eyes. I feel like I’m playing him, and I hate that.
“Get packed. We’re leaving tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Hadley asks as my eyes widen. “I thought we had a few days.”
“SSA Johnson decided we should leave sooner after he got off the phone with the sheriff. Maybe we’ll get some answers when we get there,” Logan tells her. “Go pack. Give us a minute.”
Hadley climbs off the bed, and I try not to curse the day she played this part. How am I going to slip away and kill two more people before returning to town?
They still haven’t found Kevin or Anthony.
I guess I’ll have to pick one and save the other for another day. Morgan was worse than Jason. Jason will die when the time comes. Just not in the order I planned.
“If we’re leaving tomorrow, I should go get some things from my house that I need. I also need to speak with my partner and get some business things in order. I should be back tonight,” I say, letting him hold me closer.
“You really should have told me you were struggling. And I should have noticed. I’m a profiler, for fuck’s sake. It’s my job to see things like that.”
I’m killing Hadley. No, not literally. Well, maybe a little.
I hug him closer, kissing his chest through his shirt. He smells so damn good.
His blond hair is always tousled these days, mostly from the way he’ll run his hand through it when he’s frustrated. It’s a tell I’ve noticed about him.
“Logan, I’m fine. I really am,” I say, soothing his guilt. Regardless of her intentions, Hadley had no right to make him feel guilty, and it really pisses me off.
He runs his lips over my forehead, and I lean against him, soaking in that warmth he seems to radiate. It always feels like he’s sharing his soul with mine, helping it be restored, whenever he holds me like this.
He did what no one else has been able to do in ten years—he made me start healing.
I’ll die before I let anything happen to him, and I won’t leave him alone in that town, unguarded against dangers he doesn’t know exist. He hasn’t yet seen the depravity, and won’t believe it. Not yet. Not until he’s reached the point of being desperate for answers.
That’s when it’ll register the most. That’s when it’ll hit home with a knockout swing instead of a simple jab to the stomach.
“I really do have to get back, but get packed. I’ll probably be back late, but call me if you need me, and I’ll be here as fast as I can,” he says softly.
I kiss him to shut him up, letting him feel how good he makes me feel. I kiss him for so many reasons, all of them tangled around one simple, innocuous little four-letter-word that holds more power than I ever imagined.
I now know why my father could never move on after my mother’s death.
He was a romantic.
And a true romantic would never recover from losing his love.
Logan’s hands slide down to my ass, but before we can get things going, his phone rings. Groaning, he looks down at the screen and rolls his eyes.
“One more reason to hate this son of a bitch,” he says, confusing me before he brings his phone up and answers. “SSA Johnson, miss me already?”
I force my body not to tense upon hearing that name. I force myself to keep my face hidden to hide any micro-expressions that might give me away. I continue to kiss his chest, and his free hand strokes my back affectionately, a gesture absent of thought and packed full of feeling.
It’s become natural to him to touch me and hold me, to comfort me even when I don’t need it. I never thought I’d have that easiness with anyone. I never thought anyone like him even existed.
“What I do doesn’t concern you, SSA Johnson,” Logan says curtly, a smirk etching his lips. “Don’t forget you’re no longer my boss.”
