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My stomach tilts, but then I remember he’s only been with the FBI for seven years. He wasn’t involved.
I relax again.
“I’ll let you know when I’m back in. I’m about two inches taller than you with dirty-blond hair. I’m hard to miss.”
I grin into his chest, not letting him see it. I love that he’s not a sheep like the others were.
Even though I still hear someone talking, he hangs up his phone, and I continue to hide my smile. Logan’s arms go back to embracing me, and he holds me for a moment longer.
“Can I ask you something?” he says quietly.
“Yeah.”
“Why don’t you ever speak of your past? I keep waiting on you to open up, but I’m worried you’re going to keep shutting me out if I just let it go.”
My blood chills in my veins. “Not now. Not today. Not like this,” I say hoarsely. “But one day, I can promise you’ll know everything.”
And I hope against razor sharp odds that he’ll still love me when he does.
He squeezes me tighter, and I ignore the pang in my chest.
“I need to get back. One of the guys may kill Johnson if I don’t come to run interference.”
I realize I may need to ask questions, to appear as though I don’t know anything and seem suspicious and all that.
“Johnson?” I muse, playing coy as he sighs and pulls away.
He kisses me swiftly, careful not to linger, knowing it will escalate quickly if he does. As he walks back toward the door, he says, “Long fucking story. I may get to finally have more time to spend with you when this case is over.”
“What does that mean?” I ask, genuinely confused.
He turns and gives me a grim smile. “Going against Johnson to keep him from covering something up will probably cost me my career.”
With that, he disappears out the door, leaving that cliffhanger behind like it’s okay to do.
I have someone to kill much quicker than I intended, so I hurry up and get changed, pulling on some tennis shoes I’ll replace with my big boots soon—if I have to.
>
I charge down to Hadley’s room and bang on the door, and she swings it open, smiling at me.
“What did you tell Logan?” I hiss, stepping into her room.
“That you were struggling with the whole Boogeyman trauma. It was the easiest way to get him to ask you to come along.”
I glare at her. “I’m not struggling.”
“Yeah, and a normal girl would be. Hell, I’m still scared to go home and sleep in my house, and it wasn’t even my house he broke into. I still feel violated.”
“He feels guilty now. I haven’t faked struggling because I don’t want him feeling guilty. I’d rather endure suspicion than hurt him by making him carry an unnecessary burden.”
Her smile falls. “I didn’t mean to do that,” she says seriously. “Shit.”
Rolling my shoulders back, I check the time on my phone. “I have something to do, and when I get back, you’re going to explain why Logan’s career may be in jeopardy.”
Her lips turn into a thin line, meaning she does know.
I decide killing Morgan can wait a few more minutes.
