Page 79 of Kings Fear No One
Suddenly, my memory’s not so fuzzy anymore. Our evening plays back to me in a quick reel. We’d cozied up on the sofa and watched a couple hours of TV. Both exhausted and worn out, we turned in for bed early. I must’ve drifted right off while Logan got up.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I don’t… I’m really not trying to… you don’t like it when I cry…”
“You had a bad dream. Today was a lot.” His arms tighten around me, if possible, making me feel even more secure. “Something tells me you’re not used to being shot at the way I am.”
“Abraham—”
“Is never gonna touch you again,” he cuts in. His hand cups the back of my head before he drops a kiss on the top of it. “Just relax. Go back to sleep. I won’t leave the room again.”
His tender strokes elicit a shiver down my spine. The pattern he’s created is slow and soothing as his knowing fingers glide over my back, chasing away the fear and anxiety.
It amazes me how a man like Logan, a rough and tumble biker, can be so gentle sometimes.
As if he senses it’s what I need. It’s how I should be treated, and though I’m not made of glass by any means, the consideration is nice. It means something to me.
He cares enough to be soft with me when he’s vicious with the rest of the world.
“We’re going to be raiding the compound that belongs to the Chosen Saints,” he says, raking fingers through my straightened strands. “I’ll be gone for a couple days.”
“But—”
“I already talked about it with Mace and the others. We think it’ll be a good idea if you stay with Sydney while I’m gone.”
I open my mouth, then shut it again. Inhaling a steadying breath, I give a nod.
Logan’s telling me this because we’ve grown closer. Two weeks ago, he would’ve barely mentioned a word about leaving. If I had anything to say about it, he would’ve snapped at me or mentioned he couldn’t wait ’til the marriage was dissolved.
He knew I wouldn’t want to stay in the apartment alone. He’s confiding in me about what the club is up to, hoping I’ll support him.
…you’re his wife. You should.
“Okay,” I answer, then I draw back to meet his eyes in understanding. “Just please promise me you’ll be careful.”
He cups my face, his thumb swiping the apple of my cheek, then places a kiss on my lips. “Same to you.”
18
LOGAN
“Xavier, where’re you at?” I growl, barging into the basement. “You’ve got hell coming your way, dipshit!”
The others flood in behind me as I charge down the stairs. They’re already well aware of what I’m about to do. Silver couldn’t put his foot down on this even if he wanted to. The piece of shit not only gave us bad information about the Chosen Saints’ location, he’s the reason the shootout at the bookstore happened.
Had I never gone to Juan Cabello’s house, he wouldn’t have retaliated by tracking us down that morning. He wouldn’t have opened fire on me and Teysha.
I stride across the basement room the second my boot touches the floor. Xavier barely has enough time to look up before my fist connects with his jaw.
It’s the first of many as Silver, Mace, Cash, Ozzie, and Tito gather around. Xavier’s strapped to the chair as he’s forced to endure a barrage from my fists. Left hooks. Right hooks. Jabs and crosses.
I land an uppercut, snapping his jaw together with a brutal crunch. Plenty of blood and two teeth sputter past his lips once I’m through.
Except it’s only the beginning. I head over toward the table that has the assortment of instruments. Ozzie takes in an excitable breath, his eyes gleaming at my selection. I’ve grabbed the power drill, my finger on the trigger to power it on. The basement fills with the motorized whir of the drill, the metal chuck rotating ominously.
I stop in front of Xavier, his face swollen and lumpy from all the hits he’s taken.
“You really thought giving bad information would work out in your favor?”
“Bad info? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he spits, more blood leaking out his mouth. “I have provided the info you asked for, Believer Logan.”
