Page 27 of Puck’N Enemy (Thunder Knights #2)

Dylan

Bright afternoon sunshine spills through the curtains as I stir awake. Everything still aches but having Logan’s warm body right beside me eases some of the lingering anxiety in my mind.

Glancing to my side, I take in Logan’s face.

He’s still asleep but even when he’s relaxed, there’s a quiet intensity to his features.

I lightly trace his strong jawline and the shape of his slightly parted lips.

He looks peaceful now, but I can still see the faint traces of exhaustion etched into his face.

Logan came for me.

My chest tightens with the realization. Even though Logan was very aware of what Pete could do to him and his family for challenging him, he still chose to come after me.

We were so exhausted last night that we could barely stay up to discuss what happened. As I watch Logan sleep, I can already imagine what he did to get to me so quickly.

Mitchikov came with Logan and led the entire rescue operation. The crazy defenseman of the Knights clearly has connections with the Russian mob. That’s got to be the reason why he remained so calm while we stepped over dead bodies and walked past armed men.

Mitchikov’s connections must’ve helped Logan find me so quickly. Even though the guy always gave me trouble, he helped Logan rescue me. All the resentment I felt toward him disappears like mist in the afternoon sun.

I owe him my life and so much more.

A heavy breath escapes me. There’s so much Logan and I need to talk about but this isn’t the time. We’ve got to eat something first.

Shifting slowly, I carefully slip out of bed. The house is quiet and it’s past two in the afternoon, so I know no one’s at home. Both Maddie and Eva must be at school right now.

Deciding to cook some food for both of us, I grab Logan’s shirt from the corner of the bed. A smile comes onto my lips as Logan’s scent wraps around me. Opening the door, I head downstairs and go into the kitchen.

The place feels familiar and almost nostalgic. It’s neat and tidy, with a bowl of fruit on the counter and Maddie’s school artwork pinned to the fridge.

Warmth floods my chest, making me smile.

Inhaling deeply, I get to work. I place two pans on the stove to heat up while mixing up pancake batter. The rhythmic motions of cooking calm me, giving me something simple to focus on.

Soon, the faint sizzle of batter hitting the pan fills the air. In another pan, I add a bowl of whisked eggs.

Standing at the counter, I keep a watch, absolutely unaware of someone walking into the kitchen. By the time I become conscious, it’s too late.

A startled scream rings out behind me, nearly making me jump out of my skin. The spatula clatters to the floor as I stumble around to see who it is.

A familiar middle-aged woman stands at the doorway, eyes wide with shock and suspicion. My heart plummets. It’s Eva, Logan’s mom. Her arms are wrapped around two bulging grocery bags as she stares at me.

“Why the hell are you here?!” she screams. “And why the hell are you naked in my house?”

Naked?

I look down and realize I’m just wearing Logan’s shirt that’s barely covering my naughty bits. Embarrassed and shocked, I don’t know whether to run or to explain everything to her.

“N-no, wait!” I stammer, stepping back. “I—I’m not here to—this isn’t what it looks like!”

Her eyes narrow. “Are you here to rob us? Or hurt my family?”

“No!” I blurt, panic bubbling in my chest. “I—please, it’s not like that—”

But before I can get another word out, more footsteps echo in the hallway.

“Mom?”

Eva turns, startled, as Logan appears in the kitchen, shirtless and looking very much like someone who’s just woken up. His eyes dart to me, then to his mom, instantly piecing the situation together.

“Mom, relax,” Logan says firmly as he walks into the kitchen. “It’s okay. He’s with me.”

Eva’s brows furrow in confusion.

Logan moves to my side and gently takes my hand. Squeezing it, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to my cheek.

“It’s all right,” he says calmly. “Go back upstairs and rest. I’ll talk to her, okay?”

I swallow, still frozen from shock, but the warmth of Logan’s touch soothes me enough to nod. I glance at Eva, who’s still staring at us with wide, shocked eyes.

Letting out a sigh, I shut off the stove, hang my head and quickly make my escape. Heading back to Logan’s bedroom, I shut the door and lean against it, heart thudding.

Up here, I can’t hear a word that’s being spoken between Logan and his mom, but I can imagine the chaos and arguments that must be happening downstairs.

The last time I saw Eva, it was during that awful time four years ago. I’d hurt Logan and brought him to the hospital, broken and unconscious.

Eva didn’t want to believe I was the one who’d hurt her son. I was, after all, his best friend and we always hung out together.

But that day, I convinced her I was an asshole, that despite the kindness she and her family showed me, I hurt her son. Back then, I wanted Logan to believe I didn’t care for him. I needed him to believe I betrayed him so he wouldn’t go after Pete because of me.

Eva is going to need a lot of explanation to trust me again.

The silence stretches on, making my stomach twist with anxiety. What if she still hates me despite everything? What if she doesn’t want me near Logan?

The minutes that tick by feel like hours.

Finally, the door creaks open. Logan steps inside, his expression softening when he sees me. Without a word, he crosses the room and pulls me into a tight hug.

“It’s okay,” Logan murmurs against my hair. “Mom understands what you went through. What we went through. I explained everything to her but it’ll be a while before she comes around.”

“I know,” I say in a low voice. “There’s no way she’ll forgive me for hurting you.”

“But Mom knows what you did to protect me and this family,” Logan says in a grim tone. “She’s in a bit of shock right now but she’ll be okay after some time. I promise.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, looking up at him.

Smiling faintly, he brushes his thumb over my cheek. “Yeah. Now, come downstairs with me. I’m starving for some food. Aren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Here, wear my shorts,” he says, grabbing a pair from his wardrobe and flinging them at me.

“Thanks,” I reply, quickly putting them on. Still feeling hesitant, I follow Logan out of the room.

To my surprise, the kitchen smells even warmer now. Eva stands by the stove, finishing up the pancakes I’d spread on the pan. She plates them up neatly, alongside fresh fruit and a pot of coffee.

When she turns around to face us, her expression isn’t angry anymore. It’s… gentle.

“Come and eat,” she says, putting the plates on the table. “I’ll have to head back to work now, but I wanted to make sure you’re both taken care of.”

I freeze for a second, taken aback by the kindness she’s showing me right now. “Eva…thank you,” I say softly.

She gives a short nod. She even touches my shoulder lightly before picking up her handbag. “Take care of each other, okay?” she says. “I’ll see you both later.”

I watch her leave, feeling an unfamiliar but comforting sense of acceptance. For the first time in years, I feel like I’ve been truly accepted back into the Johnson family.

I’m home.

Soon, Logan and I are seated at the table. Mellow afternoon sunshine comes in through the curtains, creating a warm atmosphere.

The pancakes smell amazing. Paired with fresh fruit and a drizzle of syrup, it tastes like the most delicious thing in the world.

For a while, we eat in comfortable silence.

Logan makes a move only when the last speck of food has been polished off his plate. “Hey, you okay?” he asks, squeezing my knee.

I look up at him and nod even though my throat feels tight. “Yeah…I just…I didn’t expect your mom to… You know, be okay with me.”

“She knows what you did for me and this family,” he says, giving me a serious look. “She also understands that I care about you. She knows how unhappy I was while you were missing. To be honest, I think she’s kind of glad you’re back.”

“No way that’s true.”

He chuckles but his serious expression returns. “Mom wants me to be happy, Dylan. You make me happy. So, she’s not going to be complaining anymore.”

My chest squeezes. Lowering my gaze to my plate, I toy with a stray blueberry to distract myself from the wave of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. “It’s just… It’s been so long since I felt… welcome anywhere. I forgot what that feels like.”

“You’re always welcome in my home,” Logan says quietly but firmly. “Always.” There’s no hesitation in his eyes. Only certainty.

“…Logan,” I whisper, unsure what else to say.

“Finish eating already,” he says gently. “You need your strength.”

I nod, picking up my fork to eat the eggs remaining on my plate.

When I’m done eating, I lean back in my chair. Now that I’m fed and rested, I need to know everything that happened yesterday. “How did you guys get to me last night?” I ask. “What happened to Pete?”

“He’s dead,” Logan says in a low, grim tone.

“Dead?”

Logan nods. “Mitchikov told me a week ago that Pete was on the hit list of every Bratva clan. He grew too ambitious and went after territory that didn’t belong to him. It was only a matter of time before the major players put him in his place.”

“Did Mitchikov tell you to follow me all the time until that happened?”

“Yeah. I was supposed to keep an eye on you and keep you safe.”

“Is Mitchikov related to these mobsters?”

“He’s not directly connected but his family has connections,” Logan says. “It’d be great if you could keep it to yourself. He doesn’t want the attention to create any trouble with his career as a hockey player.”

“He need not worry,” I tell him, grinning. “I kind of owe him my life.”

Logan grins. “Mitchikov won’t think of it that way. He helped us because he thinks of me as a friend. He knew the kind of danger I was willing to throw myself into and he couldn’t let me do it alone.”

“Again, I owe him so much more than just my life,” I say, feeling another wave of gratitude wash over me. “He protected you, too.”

Logan nods. “He did.”

“So, what now?” I ask.

Logan shrugs. “I want to take another nap.”

I chuckle. “You know what I mean. Are we seriously free from Pete’s clutches?”

Logan nods. “It’s over, Dylan. He can never hurt us again.”

His words send a rush of cool relief through me. The mobster who haunted my life all these years is finally gone. I can be with Logan without any hesitation or fear.

I can finally begin to live. Looking around the quiet, sunlight-filled kitchen, I feel like I can finally breathe.

“A nap does sound nice,” I say, grinning.