Page 24 of Logan

Inhale. Exhale, I focus on regulating my breathing.

I’m okay. Everything is okay.

At least I got out of there without worse consequences.

No bodies in barrels.

When the train pulls into the station near the company apartment, I practically sprint off. I need a moment to collect myself, to find some peace in my room, and then I’ll figure out what to do. First, a hot bath to wash away this awful memory.

I stand before the door, fumbling with my key, but my trembling hands make it impossible to insert it into the keyhole. The keyholder clangs against the door as it swings erratically. I try to steady my hand with the other, finally slotting the key into place.

The door swings open, and Logan stands before me, dressed in a simple t-shirt instead of his usual suit.

Of all the things to fixate on, my mind latches onto this inconsequential detail.

“Sloane?” His voice is gentle, but urgency laces his tone as he notices my state. “What’s wrong?”

My hands are still shaking, along with every other part of me, and I struggle to catch my breath.

Logan’s fingers grasp my chin, guiding my gaze up to meet his. His touch sends a shiver down my spine. “Look at me.”

I meet his intense gaze, seeing concern and something else flickering in his eyes.

“What happened?” he asks again, his voice softer but no less urgent.

I try to speak, but my throat feels constricted, and words fail me. He places a hand on my shoulder, but the touch sends a jolt of pain through me, and I flinch.

His expression darkens. With a swift motion, he spins me around to inspect my back.

“What the hell happened to your back?” His voice is low and fierce. He pulls me into the apartment and closes the door behind us, his grip firm yet protective. I can’t stop the trembling that racks my body, despite my efforts to calm down.

“Sloane,” he says in a low voice. “I need to know what happened. Right now.”

“You should see the other guy.” I attempt a smile.

“I’m definitely going to do that,” he responds, his expression momentarily flickering with what seems like anger before his features settle back into their usual stoic mask.

It’s hard to decipher his emotions.

“Now tell me what happened.”

“Someone at the bar?—”

“What did he do?” His mouth tightens into a narrow line. “Did he force himself on you? If he did anything, he’ll die.”

“No.” I shake my head. “He just…shoved me against a wall. I kicked him in the balls and ran away. But he took my wallet.”

“Good girl. Now tell me who it was?” Logan’s tone is insistent.

I shake my head once more, the tremors beginning to subside.

“Name and description, Sloane.”

I swallow hard and provide him with all the details I know. He moves through the apartment without making a sound. In mere minutes, he’s fully dressed, all in complete silence.

Even now, his eyes are cold as ice, but his stiff movements betray the anger that lies beneath. I remain silent as he leaves, closing the door behind him. What is he going to do? What if he gets hurt? What if he gets in trouble because of me?

Billionaire Arrested After Bar Brawl. That’s the headline I imagine for tomorrow’s papers.