Page 3

Nikki

L ogan.

He was here. I spotted him through the crowd hours ago and I thought that, once again, I’d just imagined him. It happened a lot over the years, probably as a result of how we left things. Or didn’t leave them since he never called or left me a way to call him. But this time it wasn’t just wishing or longing, it was him.

He wore his dark brown hair a little longer now. It wasn’t quite long enough for a ponytail, but it brushed his broad shoulders and enhanced that bad boy air that had enticed me all those years ago. I didn’t need to see those eyes to know that they were the perfect blend of jade and emerald, because Liv’s eyes were exactly the same shade.

He was here. Had he been here all the other years and I’d never known? Could I have found him at ‘Rock Out in the Desert’ and told him that he was a father? Maybe. But the bigger, more important question was, would it have made a difference? He was a one night stand who made it painfully clear that he didn’t want any strings or souvenirs from that night.

Mia tapped on the glass and rolled her hand in a circle, a sign that I’d missed my cue. “What. The. Fuck?” She mouthed the words.

I shook the fog of the past from my mind and smiled as I leaned close to the mic. “All right my fellow road warriors, this song is just for you.” The rock band on the main stage had an awesome female lead singer and her throaty voice filled the speakers all around the festival. The Tom Cochrane song was playing the night I met Logan for the first time, and it felt like a sign.

A big one.

As soon as the song began and my mic was cut, Mia rushed inside. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing, I was just thinking.” Now that the band was playing, I had an hour, and I had something I needed to do. “Can you keep Liv a little longer? I need to take a walk.” It wasn’t a lie, the booth where I’d seen Logan belonged to a local MC known for helping the community in the next town over, Steel City.

“Sure. This time I won’t let her get away.”

My brows dipped. “What? Is she okay?”

Mia waved me off. “She’s fine. Thankfully.” I opened my mouth to ask more questions, but Mia grabbed my shoulders and turned me away. “Go for a walk. You have an hour break. See you in forty-five minutes.” She gave me an extra shove just to drive her point home.

I made a quick stop at the bathroom to freshen up and put on another coat of lipstick to boost my courage to do something I never thought I’d get the chance to do. Back then, I foolishly believed, or maybe I just told myself that Logan was a fellow road warrior, in the desert from someplace other than Nevada. Now I wasn’t so sure.

I squared my shoulders and stood tall as I weaved through the crowd, anger fueling every step I took towards Logan. Towards the past. Towards the truth.

There he was.

It didn’t matter that he was hot as hell, or that the closer I got to him I could actually smell that familiar scent of leather, sandalwood, and mint. I told myself to ignore it and forged ahead until only a couple of feet separated us. “Logan.”

The men he talked and laughed with fell silent. Except for the tall guy with dark auburn hair. “Oh, Logan. Must be in trouble if she called you by your real name.”

The others laughed, but not Logan. He leaned against his bike with a bored expression on his face, which shouldn’t have hurt the way it did considering he hit it and quit it easily enough. “You remembered my name, but you forgot how to use a damn phone?”

My brows dipped into a frown as emotions flooded my body. Anger. Confusion. Hurt. “I would have called you, but you left without so much as a goodbye. Do you have any idea how that made me feel? How it affected me?” My heart pounded in my chest so hard I was sure they could all hear it, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.

His lips kicked up into a crooked grin that lacked all humor. “Left without a goodbye?”

“Yeah,” I shouted. “You didn’t even leave a note saying, ‘thanks for a fun night’. As crass as that would’ve been it would have been something! ”

He pushed off his bike and stepped forward, not intimidating, but just close enough that I could see the eyes I saw each time I looked at my daughter. “I did leave a note, and it had my number on it, which you never used. I waited for you to call.” He let out a huff of laughter that once again held no amusement as he shook his head. “I waited and you never called.”

“There was no note, Logan. I woke up, thinking you went out to get coffee so I took a shower and when I came out there was a tray of food and no you. No note. Nothing.” Suddenly I was too exhausted to argue. I felt silly. “You know what? Forget it.” I shook my head. “What was I thinking, confronting you like this? You don’t owe me an explanation.” I walked away, feeling worse now than I’d felt for years. It was ancient history, for him more than me, but still I must’ve been out of my mind thinking that confronting him would get me anything good.

“Nikki, wait up.”

I didn’t stop, didn’t slow my pace. If anything I walked faster.

“Nikki, dammit.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me to a stop. “You really never got the note with my number on it?”

“No Logan, I didn’t get it. If I had, I would’ve called. I thought we had a good time in and out of bed.”

He smiled. “We did.”

“You actually waited for me to call?” I couldn’t believe it. All these years I cursed his name, I hated him. On the days when my morning sickness was at its worst, I cursed him. When I couldn’t sleep because Liv couldn’t, I wished impotence on him. When she was colicky, I wished worse. But now I had to consider that everything I believed was a lie.

“Yeah, I waited. For a lot longer than I should have.”

I believed him, dammit. So if he hadn’t abandoned me, my anger and my hurt were for nothing. And that was simply too much to process right now. I still had another three hour broadcast and then bedtime with Liv. “Look, I’m sorry. It was just a mistake, but I shouldn’t be here. I have to… go.” Now that I had a new version of the past I would have to tell him about our daughter. Eventually.

“Wait. Please.”

I stopped and turned.

“Now that everything is out in the open, we need to talk,” he said.

I shook my head. “Not now.” I couldn’t do it now.

He seemed to sense my hesitation. “Okay. How about after the show we can talk and clear the air completely?”

After the show. That’s what I wanted more than anything, but I couldn’t. “I can’t do it tonight. There’s a lot to do with this kind of thing,” I answered vaguely and motioned towards the booth overlooking the festival grounds.

He seemed to deflate at my words. “Fine. Let’s exchange numbers.” He pulled out what looked like a receipt and patted his pockets for a pen.

“How about we skip the old school version?” I opened my phone to the address book and handed it to him.

“Right.” He smiled, and my heart stuttered a little bit. “Here.” He handed me his phone and we both entered our contact details quickly. “Call me when you’re ready.”

“I will.” I had to, it was just a matter of when.

“If not, I will be callin’ you Nikki.” His words sounded like a promise, and I hated the way my body responded to him.

Logan was here and I skipped a prime opportunity to tell him that he was a father. I was a coward. No, I was worse than a coward, dammit. I was a low life who was now actively keeping her daughter away from a father she was desperate to know more about.

Soon, I promised myself. I’ll tell him soon.

Ish.

***

The crowd had grown thicker since I confronted Logan, and it took me forever to make any progress, so I looked around at all the different people who’d shown up today at the rock music festival. Anybody was welcome, but this festival drew lots of bikers and long-haul truckers, campers and other people who spent their lives on the road rather than in one place. They were from all walks of life, retired lawyers and bankers, young nepo babies, biker clubs whether sportbikes or hogs, off-duty cops, and even a few politicians.

In fact just as I passed the booth beside where I’d spotted Logan, I spotted one politician in particular. Joe Cameron. He’d been a councilman for a decade and in that time, he’d experienced quite the glow up—from two-for-one suits, to wearing designer labels, and if the local gossip blogs were to be believed, a new set of hair plugs as well. Seeing him at events wasn’t shocking, but after the caller’s story earlier this week, seeing him with the Blood Fangs MC was slightly less shocking.

The MC was notorious in the area and anyone who saw those fangs with blood dripping from them on the back of their leather vests knew to walk in the other direction. And this guy looked to be deep into a serious conversation with Councilman Cameron. I wondered what all that was about. I might be a radio show presenter and not an investigative journalist—but I knew a good story when I saw one.

I watched them intently and found myself moving closer to see if I could catch even a small piece of their conversation, but what I saw was even more interesting. Both men looked around suspiciously before the biker handed him a thick envelope that looked as if it was stuffed with stacks of cash. Something about the action unsettled me, and I wanted to find a way to record it without being obvious. I quickly pulled out my phone and took a few selfies with the men in the background before I spun and recorded a video as Nikki from Highway Pulse. “If you’re not at Rock Out in the Desert yet, what are you waiting for? Look at this amazing crowd of people who’ve come to hear good music, eat good food, and drink, while mingling with other lovers of the road. Get your butts down here. Now.” I smiled and turned the camera towards myself, waving before I ended the video.

“Hey, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” A hand gripped my shoulder and spun me around.

I came face to face with a member of the Blood Fangs MC. His dark brows were drawn down into an angry frown. Panic settled in immediately and I wasn’t sure how to respond. Luckily, my feet knew what to do and I started slowly backing away from the angry man. “I was, uh, just shooting a video.”

“Why the fuck was it aimed at me?”

“You?” I frowned and shook my head as I backed away while he advanced on me. “I was just recording a video for social media. I’m the radio host,” I replied and pointed at the banners all around the festival.

“I don’t give a fuck who you think you are. Give me that phone.”

“No.” I took another step back while I shoved the phone in my back pocket and came across a wide, warm obstacle. Hands gripped my shoulders and before I could scream, the voice that belonged to the hands spoke.

“You okay, Nikki?” It was Logan.

I nodded but remained silent as I leaned my weight against him.

“This doesn’t concern you, Rebel. Or the Steel Demons, so mind your fucking business.”

Logan, or rather Rebel, pulled me against his chest. “If it concerns her, it is my fucking business. Back off. Now.”

He took a step forward. “Or what?”

Logan handled me roughly as he moved to put himself between me and the biker. The other biker. Because earlier I’d been too emotional seeing him for the first time in years that I hadn’t noticed, but now I saw that he also wore a vest that bore the name Steel Demons MC on the back. “Or you’ll regret that you ever laid a fucking finger on her.”

“Don’t make him say it again.” A deep voice sounded behind me, startling me. When I looked up the man was a giant and he wore a serious expression along with a vest similar to Logan’s.

“Diesel,” he laughed and shook his head. “Is this really a fight you want right now?”

“Don’t want it but won’t back down from it either. Leave the woman alone.”

The man glared at me. “Delete the video and we won’t have no problems.”

“What problems?” I asked, feigning ignorance. “It was just a video for all the listeners who couldn’t be here.”

More men showed up and stood behind the man he called Diesel, and the man nodded as he backed away. “Fine.” He held his hands up and looked at me with a smirk. “Don’t post that video. These assholes won’t always be around.”

Shit. Fuck. My eyes were as wide as saucers, watching the man walk away like he didn’t have a care in the world. His words, his threat, left me ice cold. “Thanks for the assist,” I said and shimmied sideways between the large men.

“I don’t think so,” Logan said and grabbed my wrist just before I made my escape. “What the hell was that about?”

“Oh shit, it’s the chick who looked like she wanted to tear him a new asshole earlier.”

Logan rolled his eyes and stood in front of me with an expectant look on his face. “Nikki.”

“Fine,” I rolled my eyes in return. “One of my listeners called in this week and said he used to work for Councilman Cameron and accused him of being corrupt.” I stared at Logan as the pieces of the puzzle clicked. “He was the caller right before you, Rebel . And then I just saw the Blood Fangs guy handing him what looked like a stack of cash.”

“And you took video of it?”

I nodded. “And photos. I look into corruption, in addition to stories from the road.” I lifted my chin in the air, daring him to discount what I do as journalism, the way so many others have.

“Shit, Nikki.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “We’re meeting tonight. No more excuses. We need to talk about this and everything else.” The everything else in that statement carried a lot of weight, but his tone left no room to argue so I simply nodded. “Black Jack Bar. Ten thirty.”

The Black Jack Bar was the same place we’d gone to after the festival six years ago, except back then it was a freezing winter night in the desert instead of the heatwave we’ve had this year. It was a hole-in-the-wall bar with a jukebox and strong drinks. It was a place where everyone minded their business and hadn’t been at all concerned about the way we kissed and mauled each other in one of the booths. “Ten thirty.”

Logan nodded and then took off with his biker friends. I watched him walk with those men while my heart pounded in my chest, uncertain what in the hell had just happened.

I knew I would show up tonight, but I wasn’t sure why.