Page 35 of Keeping Kasey (Love and Blood #3)

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Kasey

It’s one thing for my life to be in danger, but I will never forgive myself for putting Mark in Logan’s path.

I’d beg Logan to ignore Mark, but I know it won’t make a difference. The steely resolve in his merciless eyes is unmoving.

On shaky legs, I walk to the door. Logan shifts to the side, just out of Mark’s view but perfectly visible to me.

As if I don’t already feel the noose around my neck, Logan draws my gun from his holster and aims it right at me.

I force myself to open the door—careful to keep the cut on my shoulder hidden behind it—and face a smiling Mark.

He holds a bouquet of flowers and wears a light blue button-up with khakis. It’s the first time I’ve seen him in anything other than worn jeans.

His smile falls the second he lays eyes on me. “What’s wrong, Katie? Are you feeling okay?”

The storm of emotions raging in my stomach is so painful that all I want to do is collapse, but I cling to the doorknob and force a smile that feels like it could shatter at any moment.

“Actually, I’m not feeling well. Can I take a rain check?”

His brow furrows, and all the guilt I never felt before comes crashing into me all at once.

I never should’ve let Mark into my life.

I never should’ve let anyone into my life.

“You’re shaking,” he says. “You need to lie down.”

He shifts like he’s going to come inside, but I block his path with my body, pulling the door to make sure Logan stays hidden.

“I was just going to do that,” I say. “I’ll swing by tomorrow, okay?”

I know I’m not exactly being subtle, but when Mark’s face tightens with suspicion, I feel like throwing up.

“What’s going on? Is this about our date? I’m sorry if I—”

“It’s not you,” I rush out—anything to make him stop talking. Somehow, I know he’s just made things so much worse. “I just don’t feel well. I’ll text you later.”

I swing the door closed, but Mark stops it with one extended arm.

“Is someone else in there?” he asks, dropping his voice to a low whisper.

“Of course not.” I laugh, but it’s unconvincing even to my ears.

He doesn’t believe me. I can see it in his eyes—the Superman complex coming out.

I need to stop him.

He steps forward, and I try to push him back.

“Really, I’m okay. I just—”

But it’s too late.

He steps past me, eyes locking on Logan, who I’m certain still has the gun trained on me.

“Woah,” Mark says, trying to put himself between Logan and me.

I don’t let him.

Logan won’t hesitate to kill Mark, but he needs me.

“You don’t know how to take no for an answer, do you?” Logan says lazily, watching Mark’s attempt to protect me with amusement.

“Katie, what’s going on?” Mark asks, keeping his eyes trained on Logan.

Logan pins me with a smirk. “Yeah, Katie . Please explain.”

I firmly plant myself between them.

“He has nothing to do with this, Logan. Let him go, and we can talk.”

“I think we’ve done enough talking,” he says, lifting the gun to Mark.

“No!” I jump into the line of fire. “Logan, I am begging you. I’ll do anything.”

He stops, studying me with a look I can’t read. I have no idea what he’s looking for, but I let him search as I step toward him.

“Anything?”

“Let him go, and I’ll go with you. I’ll give you the software. I’ll get you the list.”

“You’re not going anywhere with this lunatic,” Mark says.

We both ignore him.

“Please,” I whisper.

With a slow step forward, Logan lifts his hand and cups my cheek for the second time.

I hate the part of me that doesn’t hate his touch. I should be filled with disgust, not memories of the hundreds of times he’s touched me just like this.

“Get your hand off—”

Logan silences Mark by lifting his gun in warning, but his eyes don’t leave mine.

“You won’t fight me?” he asks, brow lifted in disbelief.

I swallow my pride and nod once. “I won’t fight you.”

His smile grows, taking on a sardonic edge as he motions to Mark. “ He’s worth that?”

“He’s innocent ,” I say.

Logan leans in, not stopping until his lips are barely brushing mine.

“No one is innocent,” he whispers, then pulls the trigger.

It happens so fast.

Logan leans in, swallowing my scream with his lips.

I shove him back, and he lets me go with an easy smile. I turn just in time to watch Mark go down, reaching for his thigh.

The tears I’ve held back pour down my cheeks as I rush to his side. When I get to him, I’m thrown back to the day it was Ford lying on the floor, blood gushing from his wound.

Unlike that day, the man responsible isn’t lying dead behind me.

He looms like the monster that he is.

Any hope of one of our neighbors calling the police is fleeting. I’d chosen the .22 caliber for its compact size, knowing I could easily conceal it, but its shot could be mistaken for a champagne cork popping.

No one is coming to help us.

I put pressure on Mark’s thigh, and he cries out.

“I’m so sorry,” I mutter. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

I say the words over and over as he writhes in pain.

I can’t stop.

I take off my jacket and tie it around his leg. It helps, but it won’t be enough.

When I turn to Logan—tears running down my face and blood soaking my hands as I tremble on my knees—his smugness is gone. He glares at me with a haughty edge, like I’m worth less than the dirt beneath his feet.

Like he hates me.

Well, I hate him more.

But my hate isn’t going to save Mark’s life.

“Save him,” I beg. “I told you I’d go with you, but only if you save him, Logan.”

“Don’t,” Mark rasps, squeezing my arm—hard. “Don’t you dare go with him.”

I ignore him, refusing to look away from Logan.

He takes two lazy steps toward me, then crouches down, though he’s sure to still tower over me.

“You’ll finish the software and get me that list,” he states. “No fighting. No arguing. Not so much as a snarky comment, or I put another bullet in Lover Boy. You’ll do what you’re told when you’re told to do it. Understand?”

“Yes,” I say without a moment’s hesitation.

The conditions don’t matter.

My life was over the second Logan found me.

He stands, lifting a hand to his ear. “Come get him out of here.”

Seconds later, three soldiers I don’t recognize burst into my apartment.

Logan pulls me to my feet, making room for them to tend to Mark, who’s blinking so slowly that I don’t think he’ll be conscious much longer.

Logan keeps one hand wrapped around my arm as he talks to his soldiers.

“Get him stable, then dump him at a hospital. The plane leaves in two hours. Ryan, you’re staying here until further notice to keep an eye on him.”

I whip my head around to look at him. “That wasn’t the deal. Logan, you can’t—”

“Arguing already? At this rate, he won’t make it out the door.”

I open my mouth, but no words come out.

I have nothing.

No power. No leverage.

And now, no voice.

“Go get cleaned up and pack,” he orders, releasing his hold on me.

I shuffle away from Logan, stealing one last glance at him.

This is the man I loved? This callous, cruel monster?

There was a time that I longed to be held by him. I found comfort in his embrace. I pictured a future with him—a future that I didn’t realize I still crave.

Until now.

I memorize this version of Logan—the real Logan.

I was blind to miss it before, but I will never make that mistake again.