Page 7 of Break the Barrier

He lets out a breath of relief. “Okay, that’s good. He can’t touch you then.”

“He seems to still have some reach,” I say, getting to the root of the problem.

Logan shifts closer again, his eyes scanning my face. “How?”

“I got this letter,” I admit, rolling my eyes. “I’ve gotten one about every month since before I…”

“Before you what?”

I let go of the lip I was biting. “Before I tried to get you to marry me.”

Despite the heavy conversation, Logan smirks. “Ah. Okay.” Then his mask of seriousness comes back on. “What’s in the letters?”

“Oh, you know, the usual ex-husband drama. Stuff like I didn’t deserve him, how much he hates me for what I did, what he wants to do to me if he gets out.” I shudder and take another sip of my whiskey. “The usual ‘my ex-husband is a murderer and blames everyone else for it’ kind of thing.”

“He can’t hurt you if he’s in prison.”

“I know.” I shake my head. “But he may go up for parole soon.”

His brows shoot up. “But he murdered someone.”

I shrug. “Something about the prisons being full and not enough evidence—it’s bullshit. They’ve already petitioned to let go of a bunch of people. Thankfully, the ones that didn’t actually murder anyone, but still. If he goes up for parole, he’s going to find me.”

“What’s he really want?”

“The money. All of it. ‘You owe me’ is what his letters all say.”

“Shit. This is all coming to your address?”

I shake my head. “To the bar. He must have done some digging or sent one of his pals to do it for him.”

“Wait, hold on.” Logan reaches up and takes off his hat, setting it upside down on the bar. He then reaches up and rakes his hand through his hair. “His pals? What pals?”

“Probably Bones, or maybe Clyde. I don’t know.”

“Bones?”

“He was in Eric’s motorcycle club.” I set my glass on the bar top and rub at my tired eyes. “They were pretty bad news. I’ve met some others from different charters who were completely different from Eric’s. They’d have these big barbecues, and every time I would wonder how he was friends with the others because they were all so vastly different. I could always tell when a different club was there out of obligation, not because they wanted to be there.”

“But wait, these guys from his charter are checking up on you?” I notice Logan’s tone goes deeper, darker, and his right hand clenches the bar tightly.

“It’s the only thing I can think of.” I shrug as if this doesn’t keep me up at night. “How else would he know where I work? That I own this bar?”

“So, they’ve been in here. Have they approached you?”

“No,” I admit, biting my lip. “And I’ve been watching.”

“All right.” Logan sighs, and I can tell what I’ve told him is sinking in. “So, what do you need from me?”

I shake my head. “My issue isn’t that he’s wanting my money, it’s that my money is tied up in this bar along with my sisters’. If he comes after me for whatever reason, he’ll come for this bar, and he’ll threaten me and my sisters. I can’t have assets.”

“So, you were wanting to marry someone so they’d take over your assets?”

“I guess.” I rub my forehead, the stress of the situation getting to me. “I’ve been at a loss over what to do. How to handle this.”

“And your sisters don’t know.”

It’s a statement, but I look at Logan and nod. Whatever he sees on my face makes him reach out and place his hand on my thigh, rubbing it in comfort. I ache to inch closer until I mentally slap myself.