Page 10 of Logan

It’s the kind of stare that pins you in place, searing through every layer of composure. My pulse jumps, but I force myself to look away.

Grabbing Jena’s hand, I lead her toward the small group of people dancing. “Let’s dance. I need a break from drinking.”

We spin and laugh, but when I get dizzy, I stumble back, straight into something solid.

“Why’d you run away so quick, darlin’?” The man from earlier is behind me, moving his body against mine in rhythm with the music. At first, I try to ignore it, but then his hand slides lower, gripping my hips, grinding closer.

Instantly, the buzz fades. I need air. I try to step away, but his fingers dig in, pinching skin.

I glance for Jena, but her back is to me, lost in her own dance.

Calm down, Mac.

You’re fine.

This isn’t Watson.

You’re in public.

Jena’s right here.

You’re good.

I try again to step away. His grip tightens.

“Aw, come on, don’t go all dead fish on me now.” His breath is hot and stale with cigarettes. One hand starts to move up my thigh, and every part of me screamsno.

I shift my weight, ready to stomp his foot, but suddenly he’s gone, on the floor, scrambling back. Logan stands over him, eyes dark with rage.

“You ever fucking touch her again and you’ll lose your damn hands.” Logan’s voice is low but lethal, and the man nods quickly before stumbling away.

Logan’s gaze sweeps the room, a silent warning to anyone thinking of trying something similar.

Who the hell does he think he is?

I glare, heat rushing to my face. “I don’t know who you think you are, Logan Pearce. I can handle my own shit.” My finger jabs his chest, each word sharper than the last.

“Yeah, looked like you were in control. Maybe next time wear something that covers more than your ass and you won’t attract assholes like that.” He mutters it low but with enough bite to make it sting before turning his back and walking out.

I stand there, stunned, fury burning in my throat. I regret coming here.

Hell, I regret coming home.

Chapter Five

Logan

She’s talking to angels, she’s counting the stars

Making a wish on a passing car

She’s dancing with strangers, she’s falling apart

Waiting for Superman to pick her up

- ‘Waiting for Superman’ Daughtry

I walk out of the bar with my brothers trailing behind me. The cooler night air hits my face, but it does nothing to calm the heat still burning in my chest. Seeing her tonight was enough of a blow, like taking a punch I didn’t see coming, but watching that asshole put his hands on her was too much. My fists still itch to hit something.