Page 90 of Shattered Souls
I’m still half expecting to wake up and find it was all a dream.
God, please don’t let me wake up.
“It’s real.” At the sound of Logan’s voice, I glance up, realizing I’ve been staring down at Aurora with a look of disbelief that mirrors my thoughts.
“It’s real.” My voice lacks Logan’s strength, the words shaky and uneven. I’m emotional and wrung out, running on adrenaline alone. Truthfully, I could climb into bed and sleep for a week straight. However, I don’t give a single shit about the fact I’ll be dog-tired when Aurora likely wakes me up in a couple of hours.
Logan helps me out of the car; Aurora is now asleep in my arms as I carry her into the house. I head straight upstairs to the bedroom Grayson put together for me so I’d have my own space in their house—somewhere to go if I wanted to be alone—and lay my daughter down in the center of the bed.
Standing over her sleeping form, my throat is tight. A warmth envelops my back before Logan’s strong arms wrap around me. “She looks so peaceful,” he murmurs, careful not to wake her.
“I don’t know how she can sleep like that,” I say aloud. “After everything…”
“Kids are resilient.” Isn’t that the truth. “And she appears unharmed. Maybe a little scared and lonely, but it doesn’t look like they did anything to her.” He’s got no idea just how much of a relief his words are to hear. I’d been telling myself the same thing, but I honestly couldn’t tell if it was just what I wanted to hear or the actual truth. “I think she was a means of getting to you. Otherwise, Bertram wasn’t interested in her.”
That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t have done something if I’d continued to defy him, but I take great comfort from knowing she’s safely out of his reach now.
“You’re dead on your feet,” Logan murmurs, his lips brushing my temple. “Get into bed with her and sleep for a few hours.”
I glance up at him over my shoulder. “What about the others?”
“Don’t worry about them. They’ll get whatever info they need from David and do whatever they must to keep you both safe.”
I swallow but simply nod. I know Royce and Grayson won’t go easy on him, and perhaps I should feel bad about whatever they’ll do, but I just can’t bring myself to care. He might not have physically hurt my child, but he kept her from me. No human who has anyinklingof the agony being involuntarily separated from your child causes would commit such a heinous act.
Frankly, he can burn in hell alongside Bertram for all I care.
So tired that I’m swaying on my feet, I simply nod. Logan helps me out of my clothes and into a T-shirt and boxers of his, and as though I’m a child myself, he lifts the covers and tucks me in as I curl my body around Auroras.
I’m out before he’s even left the room.
I’m woken sometime later to the hard press of a foot on my straining bladder. Despite my urgent need to pee, I smile before I even open my eyes because Iknowthat foot. Iknowwhen I open my eyes, I will find my little girl in bed beside me.
It’s like waking from a dream—well, more like waking from a nightmare. Slowly, I peel my eyes open, finding the pillow beside me decorated with long, auburn-brown strands of hair not dissimilar to mine. My smile only grows, and for the first time in weeks, my heart is whole. I could lie here all day and watch her, but unfortunately, nature calls. So I slip silently from the bed and patter barefoot to the bathroom.
I hear the murmur of voices downstairs as I step back into the hall after relieving myself. It’s early—not long past dawn. I had expected them all to be asleep in their beds by now.
Curious, I creep down the stairs, following the sound of voices and the delicious smell of eggs and bacon into the kitchen. My smile turns into a full-blown grin as I stop in the doorway to admire the glorious sight that is Logan Astor wearing an apron and shaking his hips as he dances to non-existent music in front of the stove while turning bacon and flipping eggs like those strong, firm hands of his weren’t made for slapshots and breakaways.
Royce sits at the island. With a coffee in one hand, he’s deep in thought as he taps a pencil against the edge of the counter and frowns at whatever is in front of him. Grayson hovers over his shoulder, occasionally pointing at whatever they’re working on and mumbling too quietly for me to hear. There’s no hint on either of their faces as to what happened after I left that apartment last night. No signs at all that either of them is affected by whatever they did.
It eases the last remnants of tension that had been clinging to me.
“Shortcake!” Logan rejoices, catching sight of me in the doorway. Spatula in hand, he throws his arms in the air. “Where’s the little one?”
“She’s still passed out in bed.”
He nods. “She okay?”
I smile up at him. “She’s perfect.”
He grins back at me, agreeing, “That she is,” before his eyes slowly lower to rake over me. It’s not a heated or sensual perusal. More like he’s checking to make sureI’mokay.
Reaching out, I squeeze his hand. “I’m perfect, too.”
His expression turns saucy. “That you are, baby.”
Rolling my eyes, I point to where he left eggs cooking on the stove. “You’re going to burn that.”
