Page 42 of Keeping Kasey (Love and Blood #3)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Logan

One sleepless night isn’t ideal—but manageable.

Two certainly stretch my capabilities; still, I make it work.

But after my third sleepless night, I’m starting to worry about my sanity.

I caught brief spells of sleep, but they never lasted more than half an hour before I was staring at the ceiling again, my mind racing with all sorts of nonsense.

The first night, I forced myself to only think about the facts of what happened four months ago. On night two, I was four hours into sleeplessness before I caved and let myself wonder what I’d do differently if I could go back—if I’d agreed to hear her out like she’d asked.

But last night, I couldn’t stop myself from exploring an entirely new avenue of thought.

If I had done things differently, what would life look like now ?

But then the sun rose, and I shoved every one of those thoughts from my mind.

They’re a waste of energy—impractical. Not only does Kasey despise me, but the facts of our situation haven’t changed.

We don’t trust each other, and in all my whirling thoughts throughout the night, I couldn’t think of a plausible reason for that to change.

Too much has happened for things to go back to how they were.

And I’m not convinced I’d want them to, anyway. Aside from Kasey’s technological talent, there aren’t any upsides to a future with her. She’s not from a prestigious family. She can’t strengthen any alliances. She wasn’t raised to entertain or conduct herself as a boss’s wife.

Isabella, on the other hand, can offer me all of those things.

Going to the reception last night was pleasant enough. It’s always good to show my face at events and remind the local families that I retain my power over them.

Isabella conducted herself just as she was expected to—with poise and elegance. She knows when to listen, when to share an anecdote, when to laugh, and when to offer sympathy.

She’s everything my wife is meant to be.

And she was the last thing on my mind.

I should’ve stuck with my original plan to wait until Kasey was gone to continue my pursuit of Isabella. Maybe then I’d have my head on straight, instead of spending two hours at the hotel bar, hoping Kasey would change her mind and join me.

I don’t get out of bed any earlier than I have to. My mind may be restless, but my body is desperate for some decent sleep. When it’s finally time to get up, it takes more effort than it should to drag myself out of bed.

I didn’t give Kasey a specific time to meet me in the hall, but it’s almost seven, and I figure she should be ready any minute now.

In a gesture I tell myself isn’t creepy, I lean into the door that joins our rooms to see if I can hear anything from the other side.

I can’t.

At seven on the dot, I knock, but there’s no answer.

I give it a few seconds, listening for any sign of life before knocking again.

Nothing.

I would’ve heard her if she left, but there’s a chance—as small as it may be—that she slipped out when I showered.

With that unlikely thought, I step into the hall and use the extra keycard to open the door to her room.

When I do, I hear the water hitting the linoleum in irregular patterns. Relieved to know where she is, I step back to leave but pause when I notice a pile on her bedside table.

Tissues.

With a glance at the bathroom, I step into the room, gently ease the door closed, and go to the table.

I’m not sure what I’m looking for, but I study the pile of tissues anyway. Kasey hadn’t sounded congested yesterday, but I hadn’t talked to her enough to know for sure. Maybe she started feeling sick last night.

I lift the tissue box, and it’s almost empty, but what’s on the bedside table doesn’t seem like enough to have emptied the whole box.

I leave her room before the water shuts off and wait in the hall for another half hour until she steps out, ready to go.

She wears black sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt, with a gold necklace and bright white shoes.

It’s not exactly professional wear, but she somehow manages to look put together even in baggy clothes, and I prefer it to the fitted tops and tight pants she used to wear around the base.

Her hair is piled in a thick bun on top of her head, with a few rebellious curls hanging around her face, which I study now.

It’s faint, and I wouldn’t have noticed it if I weren’t looking, but under her eyes is a puffiness that might be red if it wasn’t hidden beneath skillfully applied makeup. I look for any signs of sickness but find none.

“Good morning,” I greet with a nod. “How was your night?”

“Not productive.”

Not telling Kasey about the reception last night had been a calculated move.

I knew she’d enjoy spending time with Kane without anyone else around, but I also knew that hearing that plan from me wouldn’t have been well-received.

Damon, on the other hand, could get away with telling her without provoking violence.

If I weren’t so tired, I might’ve remembered to prepare for her frustration today.

“I had business to tend to.”

“I don’t care what you had,” she says, stopping to glare at me before opening the door to the stairs. “You had no right restricting me from the base, especially without telling me. I’ll be going in every day until this job is done, with or without you.”

Her narrowed eyes are complemented by a red hue spreading over her cheeks—a sight that fills me with relief.

I missed that color.

“It won’t happen again,” I tell her, gesturing for her to lead the way.

She hesitates for only a moment before going.

We’re halfway to the base when I try my luck again.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“Positively homicidal,” she answers, staring blankly out the window.

“Would you tell me if you weren’t feeling well?”

“How about I tell you that I have absolutely no interest in conversing unless I have no other option?”

I blame my lack of sleep for my slipping patience.

“Let’s say you have no other option, then,” I snap. “I’m trying here, Kasey.”

“That was your first mistake. Thinking I’d care was your second. Let’s stop before you make a third.”

I curse under my breath and swerve the car to the side of the road, earning me an annoyed honk from the driver behind me—who I flip off without looking as they pass by.

“What do you want from me? I can’t go back and change what happened, but I’m making an effort now, and the least you could do is attempt the same.”

“The least I could do?” She scoffs, and for a moment, I could swear there’s pain hiding just beneath her anger, but it’s gone too quickly for me to be sure.

“You spent four months moping around your mansion, surrounded by a family that loves you. You have no idea what that time was like for me. Then for you to—” She stops, releasing a heavy sigh with a shake of her head.

“Trust me when I say the least I could do is survive being anywhere near your cancer of a family.”

“Then tell me what happened,” I whisper.

She turns to look out the window.

The urge to demand answers is strong, but it won’t make a difference. If Kasey doesn’t want to talk, nothing will make her.

I’m starting to share her sentiment. Why am I trying?

But even as overtired and irritated as I am, I can’t quite shake the sight of those tissues piled on her bedside table. She doesn’t sound congested, and her puffy eyes are enough evidence.

She was crying.

And since she won’t tell me why, my brain comes to its own conclusion that she’s so miserable being back here, it’s driving her to tears.

Still—and it must be purely masochistic of me at this point—when I walk her to Ford’s office a matter of minutes later, I try one last time.

“Kasey,” I say, stopping her from entering the office. She turns to face me with an annoyed expression. “Are you okay?”

“I will be just as soon as I get away from you,” she says, closing the office door behind her.

“Nothing,” Matteo states.

James shifts in his seat. “Nothing?”

“I went through every buyer for this exact pattern of wove paper over the last three months—over three hundred names, by the way—and none have ties to any of our known enemies.”

“There’s no way you could’ve been thorough in that search,” James says.

“Which is why I’m having Ford run them through the system to see if any of them have connections that could point us in the right direction, but I doubt it will.”

“Why do you say that?” I ask.

“I think this is a distraction,” he answers. “Whoever did this could’ve easily used untraceable copy paper , but they chose a kind that was in rare supply, like they wanted us to follow it as long as possible.”

James’s tone conveys his distaste for the idea as he asks, “You think we should give up?”

“I didn’t say that, but I think whoever did this is trying to keep us busy.”

I lean back in my desk chair. “They clearly have a motive to get the list, and distracting us increases their chances of getting it. But we can’t just give up. It’s still the only lead we have.”

Matteo nods. “I say we base the next steps on whatever Ford finds. If he comes back with a compelling lead, we can follow it. If not, we should consider stopping the search.”

James pinches the bridge of his nose with his eyes squeezed shut. “We can’t afford to stop the search. We need something to go off of.”

“We also can’t afford to devote time and energy to a decoy that won’t get us anywhere,” Matteo says.

I direct my words to James. “Tell Ford to come to me the second he has something, and take over for him with Kasey while he’s with me.”

“Isn’t Damon with her?” he asks.

I shake my head. “I have him with Michael. Ford is the only one with her today.”

James nods, pulling out his phone—presumably to relay my expectations to Ford.

When Matteo and James leave my office, I lean back in my chair and close my eyes.

It might be worth getting behind on my work if I can get an hour of sleep.

I’m on the brink of consciousness when my phone rings.

It’s a call I’ve put off long enough.

“Hello, Elise,” I say in a monotone that I hope clearly indicates my mood.

Of course, she doesn’t care one bit.

“You’ve been avoiding my calls.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Too busy for me?”

“Too busy to fight you on coming to town, yes.”

“I’ll save you the trouble. Our flight lands mid-afternoon tomorrow.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I’ve already made the arrangements,” she says. “We’re only staying for the weekend, and I expect you and Kasey to come to dinner at the manor tomorrow night.”

I shouldn’t have answered the phone.

“She’s not going to agree to that.”

“Then I’ll bring everyone to the hotel. Either way, she’s having dinner with us.”

I lean my head back against my chair and close my eyes. “What possible benefit is there for you?”

Elise scoffs like that’s the most ridiculous question I could’ve asked. “You forget that I actually liked Kasey. I want to see her before you run her off again.”

“There isn’t much need to run her off. She’s eager to get out of here.”

“Gee, I wonder why.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Elise laughs. “Well, I’m not under the impression she came back because you asked nicely. What exactly happened?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I repeat.

“Fine. Don’t tell me, but I expect to see you both tomorrow.”

“That’s not happening, so you might as well stay home.”

There’s a pause. “Well, seeing Kasey is only half the reason we’re coming into town.”

As if I wasn’t having a bad enough day.

“And the other half?” I ask, though I’m fairly certain I already know.

“Joshua wants to check out the situation.”

“No.”

“Logan, you’d feel the exact same way.”

“I don’t care,” I snap and force myself to soften my tone when I remember who I’m talking to. “Elise, I don’t get mixed up in Moreno’s business, and he has no right getting mixed up in mine.”

“This affects both families. You can hardly blame him for wanting to assess the situation.”

I’m about to point out that I absolutely can, and indeed plan to, blame him for wanting to step on my toes when Elise continues.

“But I have a way of making it up to you.”

“Oh?”

“Your nephew is coming.”

I’m not a fan of kids, but that firecracker of a five-year-old is the only one that I actually care about seeing.

In a bizarre twist of fate, my only nephew, Dominic—whose existence we only learned about six months ago—lives with one of Moreno’s highest-ranking men, Ryder, and his wife, Rachel.

I wanted him to move here, but since he grew up with Rachel—and I would’ve thrown him at a nanny anyway—I allowed this arrangement until he’s old enough to choose to move into the manor.

“I’ll have someone stay at the hotel with Kasey while I join you for dinner.”

“No. Either both of you come, or you don’t get to see Dominic.”

“You can’t stop me from seeing him, Elise.”

“Try me.”

I have half a mind to say screw it and that I’ll see him next time he’s in town, but I miss the little rascal.

“Fine,” I grate out. “I will try to get Kasey to come, but I’m not making any promises.”

“Thanks, Logan!” Elise says cheerily, and you’d never know she was just blackmailing me.

We hang up, and I lay my head back, wishing for sleep to claim me—even if only for a few minutes—but when I close my eyes, I just see Kasey telling me I’m a vile, cruel monster.

I open my eyes and get back to work.