The honesty in his voice was all I needed to hear. Words were for later. Right now all I needed was to feel him. All of him. And I was going to start with his mouth. I kissed him until my face was numb. Until my lips tingled and my skin burned from the stubble of his jaw. And even then, that wasn’t enough. I wanted to reacquaint myself with every inch of him from his head to his toes. “Let’s go upstairs,” I said, wanton and breathless.
His roaming hands stopped their movement, but only to pull me closer and hold me tighter.
With my arms around his neck, I rested my head on his shoulder and held onto him just as tightly.
Our hold was fierce.
Warming.
Loving.
Forgiving.
Comforting.
And I hoped everlasting.
I tried to undo myself from his hold, so we could go upstairs. “Come on,” I managed.
He didn’t move. Just held me tighter.
Beneath my fingertips, I could feel his body tense. “Logan, what is it?” I asked.
Finally, after a few moments, he pulled back, and I nervously watched as he picked up the blanket and wrapped it around the both of us. “Let’s go sit on the couch. I have something to tell you.”
DAY 15
LOGAN
“What are you doing here?”
My head jerked up from the stack of papers on my desk. “Um . . . I work here.”
My old man perched himself on the corner of my desk. “Don’t be a smart-ass. I just thought you were taking a few days off to be with Elle.”
I shook the glower off my face. “She had to go with O’Shea to Lizzy’s viewing.”
“Arrangements were made quickly.”
I gave him a solemn nod. Elle had told me O’Shea seemed in a hurry to put all of this behind him. Odd way to put it.
My old man folded his hands together. “And let me guess, by the look on your face I’d say you weren’t invited.”
I leaned back in my chair and pointed my finger at him. “You’re good.”
He shook his head. “Well, I can also guess you’re not happy about it, either.”
“I wouldn’t say that. I didn’t know her and it’s not my place to be there.”
“But?”
I shrugged. “I would have liked to be there to support Elle.”
“And?”
He was smart. “I don’t know. I can’t explain it. Don’t get me wrong. I understand this is a tough time for them both. It’s just weird that they’ll be spending so much time together.”
Understanding sparked in his eyes. “You’re jealous.”
Maybe I was wrong about the understanding. “No, I just don’t like Elle anywhere near him.”
He raised a brow. “It’s okay if you are, son. It makes sense. She’s a beautiful woman and he’s a man. Just remember he’s also a man who just lost his wife. Regardless of the situation surrounding her death, I’m certain he must be grieving.”
I’d decided not to say anything to my old man about O’Shea and my suspicion that maybe he had something to do with Lizzy’s murder just yet, or about the strange messages Elle had received. Only two to date, but that was the real reason I didn’t go today. She just felt they were warnings and had something to do with her relationship with O’Shea. I agreed. Since we had no proof of anything, I didn’t want to add more to the pile of shit my old man was already dealing with, so I answered smoothly but honestly. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I still don’t trust him. The smoke screen he conjured up about his wife’s disappearance has too many holes in it.”
“Logan, listen to me: I know you’re concerned about Elle’s safety and so am I, but I think there are some things better left alone. And at this point O’Shea and Lizzy’s involvement with Tommy and Patrick is one of them. The old saying Don’t poke a sleeping bear might be one that applies in this case.”
I completely disagreed but nodded in agreement anyway. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Well, I had some stuff to get done today, so it all worked out fine.” I looked at my watch. “Where have you been, anyway?”
“I went to an AA meeting down the street and then was going to head home early, but I saw your car when I was walking back so I came in to check on you. What do you say to letting your old man buy you dinner?”
I stood and rounded my desk. “Sorry, Pop, I’ll have to take a rain check. Elle said everything should be wrapped up by five, and I think I’ll try to catch up with her and take her out to dinner. Do you need a ride¸ though?”
He shook his head. “No, I’m good.”
“You sure?”
He nodded.
“Then can I ask you a quick question?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Have you ever heard of anyone on the street referred to as the Priest?”
His brow creased. “No, I haven’t. Why do you ask?”
I shook my question off casually. “No reason really, I just heard someone refer to the Priest and had no idea what they were talking about.”
“Church maybe,” my father laughed, rising from the desk and patting my shoulder. “A place you might want to visit once in a while.”
It was then that the thought struck. The call and message Elle received spoke of God. Was the Priest the one contacting Elle?
Holy shit.
No, it couldn’t be, or could the connection be that easy?
“Logan?”
I snapped out of it and gave my old man a shake of my head. “What can I say? I follow the lead of my old man.”
“I probably should have done a better job on that one.”
I laughed. “You know what they say about hindsight.”
“You got me there.” He looked at his watch. “I think I’ll catch dinner with Killian. Give Elle my condolences.”
“I will,” I said, and couldn’t help but notice that his shoulders were slumped. “Hey, is everything cool with you?”
Like a bat out of hell, he averted his gaze. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“No you’re not. Talk to me.”
With a sigh, he turned to look out the window. “It’s nothing I want you involved with and I mean it, Logan, but Patrick has me pulling financials for all his businesses. He’s looking for something and I’m fairly certain it’s what we already found.”
“How? He’s still in jail. I thought his bail was denied?”
“It was. His trial attorney contacted me.”
I should have known. “What’s he looking for?”
“My best guess—to verify his son’s involvement.”
“The Tommy connection to the drugs. The reason they’re in jail,” I commented.
My father nodded. “And the money clearly leads back to Tommy and I knew about it. If I act like I didn’t know Tommy was stealing money, I’m fucked, and if I tell him I knew, I’m even more fucked.”
“Then don’t tell him anything. It’s not your fucking job to look out for his tweaker son.”
He turned back around. “No, but it is my job to make sure the money-laundering process runs efficiently.”
“Patrick is behind bars, and hopefully will stay that way. Can’t you stall? Ride it out and stay clear of him.”
The smile on his face was anything but genuine. “He owns me, Logan, you know that. I do what he says, when he says, regardless of where he is.”
“Maybe it’s time you talk to Gramps. See if he knows anyone that can help get you out of this. With Patrick behind bars, there has to be a way. Someone out there willing to cut a deal.”
Wide steps brought him close to me. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”
I wasn’t sure he would. “Call me if you need anything.”
He patted me on the shoulder before he left. “I will.”
Following the impromptu discussion with my father, I felt both better and worse. Better about O’Shea and Elle having to spend the day together, and worse because my old man’s situation should have been getting better with Patrick behind bars, not worse.
When the brief for a client that had to be filed in federal court on Monday was complete, I glanced at my watch. I had a shit-ton of other work to do but decided to spend some time researching scripture to see if what the caller had recited and texted to Elle had any context. After finding nothing that made sense, I concurred with Elle: it was this man’s, whom I’d concurred could possibly be the Priest, own words.