The sun shining in his bedroom window wasn’t what had woken me. I’d been awake for hours. Waiting. Wondering. Pacing.
Worried, I stared at the faint yellow beams of light.
Where was he?
It took me a minute to gather the courage to get out of bed. It was dawn and he wasn’t back. That wasn’t a good sign.
I’d spent hours talking to his father during the night. If I thought I understood Logan before, now I understood him so much more. His father had told me a little about growing up the son of the mob boss, and how he’d tried to keep Logan away from that life. Killian had, too. Killian wanted the best for Logan and he knew the life he’d led wasn’t it. But then there had been Emily, her suicide, the aftermath, and the attack on Kayla. How Logan blamed himself. He had also told me how happy he was to see Logan with me, caring for someone, letting someone in, but he cautioned me—change didn’t happen overnight. The walls his son had built around himself would take a while to come down. And he asked me to be patient with Logan. I had agreed. Change, for either of us, wasn’t going to be easy. I’d spent the majority of my life avoiding relationships, not trusting men or my feelings. But what I felt for Logan was compelling, riveting, overwhelming. Fierce. And I didn’t want to let it go. Couldn’t.
I heard noises from downstairs and hurried to see if he was back.
But it wasn’t Logan in the kitchen closing the door. It was Miles. He’d just come inside. All night he’d rotated positions back and forth from his car parked on the street, to the family room, to the kitchen.
“Elle, sorry, did I wake you?”
I shook my head. “Have you heard anything?”
Miles looked anywhere but at me. “Declan just called me—”
“What did he say? Is Logan hurt?” The voice wasn’t mine, but it was asking the identical questions I was about to ask. It was Sean’s, and he was standing in the pantry alcove with a can of coffee in his hand.
“Mr. McPherson, sorry, I didn’t see you,” he answered. “Logan’s fine. He found Tommy, and nothing happened.”
Relief coursed through me and I could see Sean visibly sag in his own relief.
“It seems the DEA was following Logan and he didn’t catch the tail. They broke into the room when Logan was with Tommy before Logan could talk to Tommy.”
Step by step, I made my way to the table and sat down.
Sean did the very same thing.
Walking toward the sink, Miles spoke. “Whenever you’re ready to go, Elle, I’ll take you to your townhouse.”
I didn’t have to ask why. I knew what that meant. Logan hadn’t accomplished whatever it was he set out to do. And he had arranged this as his backup plan. The walls had gone up. He wasn’t coming back until I was gone.
I had no choice in the matter.
I was too raw from the night’s events to discuss anything any further. Sitting for a short while, I made myself get my things and let Miles drive me home.
Once there, I escaped to my room. Just wanting to shut everything out, I lay back on my bed. I had Michael to deal with, but it was too early to call him.
Michael O’Shea was the brother-in-law I never knew I had up until three months ago, and his daughter was the niece I fell in love with at first sight. It was because of her that I decided to leave the gypsy-like lifestyle I’d adopted and move to Boston. It was also because of her that I’d done what I’d done and Michael had done what he’d done.
The catalyst for coming to Boston was my missing sister, Lizzy, who still hadn’t returned to her husband and daughter. The last time I saw her was fifteen years ago when she walked away from me. My hope was now that the danger had passed, she’d turn up and maybe we could repair our damaged relationship.
Just as I closed my eyes, my phone started to ring. For one second, I thought maybe it was Logan, but I knew it wouldn’t be. Holding a breath, I looked at my screen. It was Michael’s name on it.
Nerves rattled me. Did he check with the delivery service and know the cocaine had actually been delivered last night? They were one of those third-party services and my hope was that the fly-by-night guys wouldn’t be able to be reached directly. Was I wrong? Did Michael know about Logan? About what he’d done?
“Hello,” I answered, trying to swallow my nervousness.
“Hi, it’s me. I just wanted to check with you and see if you’ve seen the news?”
“Yes, I have.” I kept my response short.
“I’m glad the delivery never arrived. It seems somehow the DEA got wind of it and intervened.”
Details weren’t given on where the product was found, so Michael really didn’t have a clue. “Does that mean everything will be okay and Clementine is out of danger?”
“I hope so. With the Blue Hill Gang behind bars, I think whatever Lizzy did will be the least of their concern.”
I really didn’t want to talk about this. There was so much I wanted to know, but not while lying to Michael. Changing gears, I asked, “Do you think Lizzy will come home now?”
“I don’t know, Elle. Listen, I have to run and get Clementine from my sister’s. I’ll call you later.”
“Yes, of course. Give her a kiss for me.”
He hung up. That was strange. I was worried about my lies, but he seemed so preoccupied, I didn’t have to be.
With that behind me, and while Miles worked on increasing security, I sat on my bed and pondered what I should do about Logan.
I thought long and hard, remembering my conversation with his father—“be patient with my son.” With his words fresh in my mind, I tried to call Logan.
He didn’t answer.
I didn’t leave a message because I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say.
And he didn’t call me back, either.
By ten A.M. , I knew I couldn’t sit around anymore. It was Friday, and I had to get to my newly opened boutique, The House of Sterling.
Logan must have been in touch with Miles, because he insisted on driving me to work and spending the day with me. Knowing that, I was certain Logan would call or text or something.
Nothing.
Miles drove me home, and later that evening after he finished working on my security system, he left assuring me I would be locked safely inside. I was just about to head upstairs and go to bed when there was a knock on my door. Startled, my heartbeat sped up, but then I chastised myself for thinking it would be anyone who’d come here to harm me. It was probably just Miles. Perhaps he had forgotten something. But a peek through the peephole told me it was Logan.