Page 127 of Keeping Kasey
I’ll come right back.
“Come on, boy,” I say, and open the door.
“What part of ‘under no circumstances are you allowed out of this room without my permission’was too subtle for you?” Logan asks, leaning against the wall beside my door.
How long has he been there?
Even if it were only a few seconds, he would’ve heard Kane begging.
Bastard set me up.
“Kane needs to go outside.”
“I don’t care if Kane’s on fire,” he says, kicking off the wall to look down on me. “Youdo notleave this room without my permission.”
The need to crash headfirst into him simmers under my skin, but I can’t.
Bide your time.
“It won’t happen again,” I say, tone even and face perfectly neutral.
“No, it won’t,” he agrees, stepping aside for me to join him in the hall.
I don’t.
His smile drips with condescending pride. “Come on, liar.”
I follow him down the stairs to the kitchen. Kane runs to the back door, and I look to Logan, who nods before I open it and step outside.
Looking to Logan for constant permission is going to kill me long before a bullet does—but in an odd way, I’m grateful for it.
Every time I’m forced to look at him to tell me what to do, I hate him even more. It’s a constant reminder of the kind of man he is.
I have so many memories that tempt me to believe there’s a real human being under the monster.
There isn’t.
It’s freezing outside as I watch Kane run back and forth across the yard, but I don’t mind the cold. I missed him so much.
Leaving Kane behind was one of the hardest things I have ever done. I’ve had him since he was a puppy, and he’s been my only companion for so long.
But I had to leave him.
I didn’t have a choice. There was no way I could’ve gotten to the Consoli house to get him without being caught. Traveling alone was hard enough—having to care for him would’ve made it impossible to stay hidden.
That doesn’t mean I didn’t regret the choice every single day.
The back door opens, and Logan’s voice cuts through the air. “Let’s go.”
I call Kane in, and he darts past me, racing upstairs. I want to follow him, but Logan guides me to his office, where his brothers are already waiting.
This room hasn’t changed one bit. The bookshelf-lined wall is still organized exactly as it had been—confirming a suspicion I once had that Logan isn’t much of a casual reader. The tall windows allow warm sunlight to stream into the room, though it does nothing to ease the thick, ominous air. Logan’s desk is still set in front of a TV, with a coffee table, two armchairs, and a leather couch placed in the center of the room.
The last time I was in here, I spent hours lying on that couch, listening to music and taunting Logan into make-out sessions that distracted him from whatever work he’d been trying to accomplish.
Now, I wait for his permission to sit on that very same couch.
He grants it, and I sit as he leans against the desk, arms folding over his chest. James and Damon stand on either side of Logan, and the brothers look every bit like the force to be reckoned with that they are, but I know it won’t always be this way.
