Page 138 of Shattered Souls
The levity of the moment passes, Grayson’s brows furrowing. “My dad,” he begins. I stiffen. I can’t help it. It’s an involuntary reaction. He notices, grimacing before he continues. “He’s here. In a room down the hall. It’s another reason why Logan took Aurora home.”
I swallow, feeling for the first time since I woke up like my throat is clogged with soot. “He’s alive, then.”
“Burned, but yeah, he’s alive.”
Guess it was foolish of me to hope I’d hit him hard enough to kill him or that the fire had taken care of what I couldn’t.
“I’m sorry, Tempest.”
I shake my head, not trusting my voice to speak.
“Did you talk to the police?” I finally ask. “Maybe if we tell them he’s been stalking me, they’ll arrest him again. Send him back to prison?”
Although Grayson nods, his tight expression says he disagrees.
“Or he could say that you’ve been keeping him from his daughter,” he counters. “Either way, I don’t want him going back to prison. Not when he can still stalk you from there or get released in several months or years and start this shit allover again. You deserve to move on. Aurora deserves a normal childhood,” he states with unflinching finality. “He needs to go.”
Glancing around the room, I ask, “Do I need to stay here, or can I go?” Now that I know Bertram is in a room just down the hall, I want to get out of here.
He’s on his feet in an instant. Pointing at a duffle bag at the end of my bed, he says, “There’s a change of clothes in there. If you’re up for it, go shower and get dressed. “I'll hunt down a doctor and have you out of here in no time.”
A shower sounds amazing. Ireekof smoke. However… “Grayson,” I call out, stopping him in his tracks. My gaze slides to the door. “What abouthim?”
“I’m down as his emergency contact, and since he’s unconscious, the nurses are communicating with me daily about his progress, so we will know as soon as there is any change in his condition.”
I nod, and he disappears out the door before I can tell him not to bully whatever doctor he finds first.
With the advice to take it easy for the next few days and to stay hydrated, I’m discharged. Half an hour later, Grayson brings the car to a stop outside the guys’ townhouse.
Streaks of gray brighten the horizon, dawn breaking on a new day as I walk through the front door, a smile tugging on my lips. Who would have thought mere months ago I’d be so relieved to be walking into this house? The me from back then would have laughed in your face and said you must be crazy. But hey, if this is what crazy feels like, then I guess you can call me in-fucking-sane because I wouldn’t trade this feeling of belonging for anything in the world.
Despite the early hour, the smell of eggs and bacon is thick in the air, and my stomach grumbles in appreciation. “Mommy!” Aurora squeals as she bounces over, then launches into my arms.
“Whoa there kiddo,” Royce chastises, chasing after her. “Remember what we said about being careful with Mommy for the next couple of days.”
“Oh.” Her lips tug down as she loosens her hold. “I’m sorry, Mommy.”
“You’re okay, baby. It’s so good to see you.”
She nods, wriggling to be put down before she grabs my hand and pulls me toward the living room. “Look!” She points toward where a mattress has been laid on the floor, covered with a duvet and piled high with pillows. “We're having a snuggle day.”
“A snuggle day, huh?” I smirk at Royce who winks at me. “That sounds pretty perfect to me.”
“Why don’t we let Mommy get some food while we pick out a movie for us all to watch?” he suggests, distracting Aurora while Grayson tugs me out of the room and down the hall to the kitchen.
Pausing in the doorway, I smile at the sight of Logan in front of the stove, shirtless, wearing low-slung sweats and a bright red apron. Seeing him takes my breath away, and I allow myself to simply admire him for a moment.
Leaning against the door frame, I run my eyes over his exposed back, the muscles flexing and rippling as he flips bacon and shuffles pans around. The power beneath his skin is mesmerizing, a testament to the hours he spends training and pushing his body to its limits. Each muscle is perfectly defined, his body a temple of perfection. The curve of his shoulders, the hard lines of his biceps and triceps, and the way his lats taper down to his narrow waist is breathtaking.
His movements are fluid and controlled, each one highlighting the power and grace he possesses. He turns slightly, and although his apron blocks what I know is a spectacular view, I don’t need to see it to picture the deep V of his hip flexors and the hard plane of his abdomen.
His skin glows in the soft morning light, every contour of his physique illuminated. There's a raw, masculine beauty to him that I can't tear my eyes away from. I haven't had much time recently to stop and appreciate him, and I take this moment to do precisely that—to appreciate Logan in all of his glory. His dedication, strength, and unwavering support shine through in this simple, domestic scene.
He catches sight of me out of the corner of his eye. “Shortcake!” Logan’s greeting is as enthusiastic as Aurora’s as he hauls me into his chest. “Fuck, you’re a sight for sore eyes. How are you feeling? Do you need anything? I’m making breakfast. I Googled earlier, and the internet said you should drink lots and eat soft foods, so I have eggs, pancakes, yogurt, and fruit. Royce got you your favorite coffee.” He frowns. “But maybe you shouldn’t drink hot liquids. Hold on, let me Google that real quick.” He’s already typing away on his phone. “We have water, and I made you a smoothie?—”
I place a hand on his arm to stop him, and his gaze snaps to mine. “Everything smells amazing, Logan. You didn’t have to go to all this effort, but thank you.”
Pressing onto my toes, my hand snakes around his neck as I pull him down to me. Our lips brush, and he groans. The spatula hits the floor with a lightthudas his hands clamp down on my hips, fingers squeezing against my flesh as if ensuring I’m real.
