Page 20 of Killian's Vengeance

I shrugged. “You freaked her out. You looked like a fucking psychopath.”

Cullen rubbed his tired face. “Yeah, well, I feel like a fucking psychopath.”

We’d both been on edge since Mac died, wallowing in our own way and it was starting to catch up with both of us. Going after Lily was a burning distraction that we needed, but we needed to get our hands on her and her partner if only to begin to give ourselves a moment to actually process our loss. “We’ll get them, Cullen.”

He nodded. “We will, but you need to keep that bitch away from me in the meantime.”

I felt a flash of irritation at his continued hostility toward Willa, but knew if I opened my mouth about it, he would accuse me of letting her get in my head.

“Get some fucking sleep, Hathaway,” I said as I stood to go back downstairs. My dick had been half hard since I left Willa knowing I’d be sleeping in with her tonight, even if it was only to make her feel safe from the guy currently pounding whiskey next to me.

He grunted and took another shot. “I’ll sleep after we get revenge for Mac.”

I looked at him and truly realized how hard he was taking Mac’s death. This was more than just grief; this was all out despair. A part of me wanted to ask if he was alright but having heart to heart conversations about our feelings wasn’t exactly standard procedure for me and Cullen. Or me and anyone, for that matter.

Instead of questioning it further, and likely getting punched in the face for my troubles, I started to walk back toward the basement, toward Willa. I saw Logan standing by the door and decided to fill him in on what was going on before I slept.

“Keep an eye on Cullen. He doesn’t love the idea of us getting help from Lily’s sister. I don’t want him to get too drunk and get any crazy ideas of taking out his shit with Lily on Willa.”

Logan crossed his arms and cocked his head thoughtfully. “I’ve got a girl I could hook him up with, one he’s had his eye on. That should keep him down for the night.”

I gave him a hearty pat on the back in appreciation. “Thanks, man. He’s really fucked up about Mac, more than I realized. Also, you have to do something about Cara.”

Logan grimaced. “What’d she do this time?”

“This time?”

“She’s been the source of a lot of drama recently with other girls. Getting territorial over some of the customers. And some staff.”

That was a fucking understatement, considering the bullshit she pulled on me.

I nodded. “She’s the one who ran to Cullen and told him about me and Willa. I hate to think of what would have happened to Willa if I hadn’t happened to be there when he showed up.”

That was one thought I had been avoiding since Cullen had busted into the room when I was kissing Willa—what if I hadn’t been there? What would he have done to her? What would I have done to him if he’d hurt her? I didn’t want to even think about it.

“I’ll have Martin talk to her and give her a warning.” Lines of tension appeared on his face. “Got to talk to him about a lot of things,” he said grimly.

Martin Goddard was Logan’s manager, and he was normally in charge of personnel. In fact, I probably should have gone to Martin with my issue instead of Logan, but I took advantage of his availability in the moment.

“You got problems with Goddard?”

Logan’s eyes hardened. “Just some club shit. I hired him because he was so fucking ambitious, so eager to demonstrate his ability to run a place like this, but I think it’s going to his head. He’s managing like he owns the fucking place, issues with Cara are an illustration of that pattern.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m weighing some options, but I need to gather some more information. Don’t worry about this petty shit. Go deal with taking down the motherfucker who killed Mac.”

“Thanks, I’m going to fucking bed. I feel like I haven’t slept for days.” It was more or less true.

Logan smirked, his black eyes penetrating as he stared at me. “You sleeping in your room? I thought it already had an occupant.”

I shot him a dirty look. “She’s worried about Cullen. He stormed in there like a fucking rabid dog.”

“Right, I’m sure that’s why you’re sleeping in there.”

“It is.” The lie came to me easily.

“It has a deadbolt, and you and I have the only keys,” he retorted.

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