Page 21

CHAPTER 19

LOGAN

J S. 8 PM. Plaza Hotel.

Thanks to the app I had installed on her phone, I could see all of her incoming and outgoing text messages. I read the text she’d received two hours ago over and over in disbelief, my stomach twisted into a knot so tight it felt like I couldn’t breathe. A dark, burning sensation filled my veins as I stared at the message, the words branding into my mind. I didn’t need to guess what it meant. I’d looked through enough of her messages to know how she was informed about clients.

I’d missed catching the text when it came in thanks to practice, so I frantically turned on the video feed for the tiny camera that was in the necklace I’d given her this morning.

Fuck. She’d taken it off. The feed showed her ceiling, and the recorder wasn’t picking up any sound.

I hit her number immediately, pacing the locker room with the phone pressed to my ear. It rang, and rang, and rang—then went straight to voicemail. I gripped the phone tighter, so tight my knuckles turned white, and I forced myself to take a deep breath. She was shutting me out. It was her instinct—to push me away.

This was just another test for me to show her I was all in.

I wasn’t going to let any guy but me touch her ever again.

“See you guys later,” I told Walker and Camden, ignoring their questions as I stalked out of the locker room. I’d have to catch them up later, because this needed to be handled. Now.

Dialing the number for the PI, I breathed a sigh of relief when he picked up after the second ring. “I need you to find out who’s on her client list for tonight, eight p.m. at the Plaza Hotel.” My voice was tight, barely controlled, fury lacing each word.

“You got it,” he said, no hesitation, no questions. My kind of guy. I’d never had a need for a PI in my life before Sloane, but I was fucking grateful for him now, or at least for Lincoln . It’s not like the PI was doing any of this out of the kindness of his heart.

Waiting around for him to call me back was something I couldn’t do. Not when every second felt like I was one step closer to losing her forever. I stormed out of the practice facility and drove straight to the hotel.

The Plaza looked pristine, gleaming…like luxury wrapped in glass and steel. It didn’t look like the kind of place where something like this could happen. But that was the whole point, wasn’t it? Things like this didn’t happen in seedy motels. They happened in high-end hotels, where the rich could pretend they weren’t doing something filthy.

I parked around the corner and got out of the truck, pacing the block like an animal trapped in a cage, my phone in hand as I waited for the info to come in. Every second stretched out painfully long, my mind racing with what could happen tonight. I wanted to punch something, anything, just to release some of the fury bubbling beneath the surface.

Finally, the phone buzzed. I snatched it up, and the investigator’s message came through.

Politician. Big name. Family man. Campaigns on values.

Of course it was. The hypocrisy of it hit like a slap to the face, but it made perfect sense. These guys always did this. They built their reputations on being the perfect husbands, the perfect fathers, all while dipping into the darkest parts of the world.

His disgusting hands weren’t going to touch my girl.

I read through the guy’s information as I entered the hotel, keeping my head down just in case someone recognized me, my jaw clenched tight as I walked into the lobby. The place was buzzing with guests, people moving about like it was just another day. They had no idea what was really happening beneath their oblivious noses, how many lives were being twisted in these hallways.

I booked a room on the same floor she was supposed to be going to, knowing I wouldn’t be able to use the elevator without a room key. Finally making it to the elevator, I was pretty sure it was the slowest elevator that existed on Earth. “Fuck,” I muttered as I pulled out my phone and looked at Sloane’s location. Based on the tracker on her phone, I only had ten minutes to make this happen, so everything needed to go smoothly.

The elevator doors dinged, and I stepped out, grinning when I spotted the maid’s cart near an open room. They really should have better security up here.

I strode over and grabbed the universal key off the top, slipping it into my pocket as I moved down the hallway, my eyes scanning the room numbers until I found the one I was looking for. I didn’t bother knocking. I swiped the keycard and pushed the door of the suite open, revealing a fancy living area with a couch and a television. I could hear the faint sound of moans and grunts coming from the next room, and I braced myself for what I was about to see. Striding across the carpet, I stopped when I reached the doorway of the bedroom.

Fuck. I was going to have to bleach my eyes after this. Jared Stroople, one of the esteemed congressmen from Louisiana, was lying on the hotel bed, butt naked, his dick already ready to go. Porn was playing on the television, and there was an array of dildos on the bed.

And I doubted they were all for Sloane…I wanted to throw up thinking of this fucker anywhere close to her.

The huge grin on his face fell fast when he saw me, his eyes widened in shock, his entire body freezing up like he couldn’t believe someone had just barged in on him.

“What the hell—” He was struggling off the bed when I pulled out my phone and snapped a series of pictures, each one capturing him in that moment of panic.

He shot off the bed, stumbling over himself as he tried to straighten up. “What are you doing? You can’t be here!” His voice cracked with the fear I could see all over his face.

I took a step forward, my voice low and controlled. “Says who?” I asked with a grin. I snapped another picture, the flash bright in the dim room. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to walk out of this room, and you’re never going to contact that service again. You’re never going to come near Sloane or anyone else involved in this mess. You’re not going to complain. You’re not going to make a single sound. Because if you do—” I held up my phone, showing him the photos I’d just taken. “These go to every news outlet in the country. Every. Single. One. Missy would be really interested in this situation…don’t you think?”

The blood drained from his face at the mention of his wife of twenty-five years, his mouth hanging open as he stared at me like I was holding a loaded gun to his head. “You can’t…you wouldn’t…I have a family…”

“And that’s your problem,” I snapped, cutting him off. I wasn’t here to listen to excuses. “You didn’t think about that family before you came here, did you?”

He stumbled backward, his hands trembling as he tried to cover his tiny dick.

I wasn’t done, though. I swiped through my phone, pulling up the list my investigator had sent me—every time this guy had used the service, every girl—and guy—he’d requested.

“Let’s see…April 3 you met Dolly in room 378. On April 7, you met Felicity in room 492. And Todd was on April 12.” I raised an eyebrow as the congressman whimpered, and then I huffed out a laugh. “Interesting…that was your ten-year-old’s birthday. Just couldn’t keep it in your pants could you?” I held the phone up, making sure he saw the list in full detail. “This is a history of all the times you’ve dipped your tiny dick into this well. I know who you’ve seen, when you’ve seen them, how much you’ve paid…and I’ll make sure the world knows, too.”

His face was the face of a dead man, gray and haunted.

If he ever touched Sloane again…he would be a dead man. So this experience was probably good for him.

His legs nearly gave out beneath him as he threw on his boxers, grabbed his suit, and bolted for the door. His whole body was shaking as he tried to get out of the room as fast as possible. “You forgot your dicks,” I called after him, but he didn’t look back, struggling to put on his pants as he turned the corner. A man running like his ass was on fire.

I stood there for a moment, breathing hard, trying to let the adrenaline settle. It wasn’t over yet.

I walked to the chair by the window and sat down, my hands steepled in front of me as I waited. Sloane would show up soon, and she wouldn’t be expecting me. She wouldn’t want to see me, but I didn’t care. She needed to know that this was the line in the sand. When I’d said no one else…I’d meant it.

* * *

SLOANE

The hotel was immaculate, as usual. High-end hotels always had a certain coldness to them, everything too perfect, too sterile. I paused just outside the door, smoothing down my dress as I mentally prepared myself for the night ahead. I was used to this by now, the careful masks I had to wear depending on the client. Tonight was no different—I knew exactly who I was meeting and how to play my part.

So why did everything feel…wrong?

I used the key to open the door.

The silence hung heavy in the air, thicker than usual. Jared wasn’t in the living room…but that wasn’t a surprise. He tended to be…more eager than some of the others. I strode across the room, a part of me—like always—wishing that the intricately carved ceiling would cave in and stop all this before it began.

Pasting on a smile, I walked through the entryway?—

Logan .

He was sitting in a chair in the corner, one leg casually draped over the other, his hands folded in his lap. The dim light caught on the sharp angles of his gorgeous face, highlighting the calm, deliberate intensity in his expression. He didn’t move, didn’t say a word. He just stared, his eyes fixed on me like a predator assessing its prey.

My pulse spiked, embarrassment and adrenaline flooding my insides. “What are you doing here?” I managed to ask, my voice tighter than I wanted it to be.

“Waiting for you,” he answered coolly.

I glanced over my shoulder at the entry, tension beading down my spine as I imagined the door opening, and Jared seeing Logan in the room. The congressman was going to be here any minute. Logan couldn’t be here. “You need to leave. Right now.” My voice was frantic and pleading.

He didn’t move from the chair.

His posture was deceptively relaxed, but the intensity in his gaze belied the casual way he sat. “There’s no hurry,” he said, his voice low, almost soothing. “Congressman Stroople isn’t going to be joining you today.”

My stomach churned, and the air in the room seemed to thicken. How had he found out? “What do you mean?” I whispered, my gaze darting away from him in embarrassment. It wasn’t a secret that Jared held himself out to be a devoted family man. It was a secret, however, that he enjoyed escorts on a regular basis…me being one of them.

Logan tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. “I mean, he had other…matters come up. You won’t be seeing him tonight. Or any other night.”

Anxiety surged through me, overriding the tension that had gripped me moments before. “How did you?—”

“We had a deal, Sloane,” Logan interrupted, his voice sharp now, cutting through the room like a blade. “No other man was going to touch you again.”

I let out a bitter laugh, the sound harsh even to my own ears. “That’s not the reality of my life, Logan,” I shot back. “It’s not even an agreement I can make. Obviously, you weren’t paying enough if I was sent here.”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, the room was silent except for the steady thrum of my pulse pounding in my ears. Then, slowly, he stood, the chair creaking slightly as he pushed himself up. He moved toward me with deliberate steps, each one making the space between us feel smaller and smaller. My breath hitched, but I couldn’t seem to make my feet move.

“You don’t have a choice?” he asked, his tone deceptively calm. “Well then, I’ll just be taking over from now on. This…” His hand gestured vaguely, encompassing the room, the situation, my entire life. “Isn’t going to happen anymore.”

“It’s not up to you!” I snapped, my voice rising despite the tremor in it. “You’re a fool if you think you can walk in here and?—”

Before I could finish, he grabbed my wrist—firmly enough that I couldn’t pull away. In one swift motion, he was sitting on the bench against the bed and pulling me down across his lap. My heart jumped to my throat as I realized what he was doing.

“Logan, don’t you dare?—”

The first swat landed on the curve of my ass, hard enough to sting but not enough to hurt. My breath hitched, and my hands scrambled against the fabric of his pants as I tried to push myself up, but his arm pinned me in place.

“What the hell are you doing?” I snarled, my voice muffled as my hair fell across my face.

“Teaching you a lesson,” he said, his tone maddeningly calm. Another smack followed, sharper this time, and I felt the heat rise in my skin. “Next time you get an…assignment. You will let me know, and I will take care of it.”

“You’ll take care of it?” I spat, twisting against his hold. “You’re insane?—”

Another swat silenced me, and I gasped, the sound more out of shock than pain. “I’m not letting anyone else touch you,” Logan growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Not ever again.”

The words sent a shiver down my spine, though I couldn’t tell if it was from anger or something far more confusing. My fists clenched at his pants as I tried to push myself up again, but he didn’t budge.

“You’re out of your damn mind,” I hissed, my voice trembling now.

“Maybe,” he said, his hand hovering over me for a moment before resting lightly against the fabric of my dress. “But I’m not wrong.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the whirlwind of emotions raging inside me—anger, humiliation, something that felt precariously close to longing…and lust.

Another swat and then another. Until tears were streaming down my face, and my core was achy and hot.

When he finally let me go, I scrambled to my feet, my cheeks burning as I glared at him.

“This isn’t something you’re going to win,” I said, my voice shaky but firm.

Logan leaned back on the bench, his gaze steady as he looked up at me. “I’m not going anywhere, Sloane,” he said, his voice quiet but resolute. “When I said you were mine, I meant it.”

“You barely know me!” I hissed, angry, frustrated…turned on, tears still streaming down my face.

I hated him in that moment. Hated the way he looked at me like he could see every scar, every wound I tried to hide. Hated how his words made something inside me ache with the kind of hope I’d long since buried.

And most of all, I hated that…it was impossible for him to win.

* * *

LOGAN

I watched as the anger seeped out of her, slow like dripping water from a faucet. Her eyes were glued to the carpet as her shoulders lowered and defeat settled over her skin.

“How can you stand to look at me?” she finally whispered.

I pushed up off the bench. “I have the opposite problem, Sloane, I can’t seem to take my eyes off you.”

“Do you know how many men and women have touched this body? Do you know how many mouths have been on this skin, how many dicks have been inside my cunt, how many cocks have been inside this mouth?” she cried.

“None of that matters to me,” I told her, taking a step forward.

She finally looked at me. “I’m a mess,” she said brokenly, desperately, like it was a matter of life or death that she convinced me of this. “My past, my present…it’s going to make you bleed, Logan York. It’s going to cut you open and leave you with nothing .”

I gathered her in my arms. “I don’t mind a little blood, Red.”

“What if I can’t ever give you everything, what if—what if they took too much of me? And I can’t ever get it back?” She stared up at me, and I watched, entranced as another tear slid down her smooth cheek.

“Then I’ll love what’s left of you.” I watched as the words sank into her skin. “I’ll love whatever you can give me, and it will be enough. Because, Sloane,” I murmured, pushing a piece of her hair behind her ear. “Even a single piece of you is worth more than anything anyone else could give me.”

A harsh sob burst from her lips as she buried her face into my chest.

Scooping her up, I glanced once at the bed before shaking my head in disgust and striding into the other room. Settling onto the couch, I kept her tucked tightly against me as her sobs eventually faded and her soft breaths filled the room.

I let myself rage then. I let myself feel all the hatred I was capable of as I thought about what had been done to her. I still didn’t know much, but I knew enough to imagine ripping their metaphorical dicks off and shoving them down their own throats so they would know what it was like.

Right before I killed them.

As I lay there, holding her, a darkness seeped into my veins, destroying any semblance of the good guy I’d once thought myself to be.

And as her soft breaths caressed my skin, I decided…

I was perfectly all right with that.