Page 12 of The Lost and the Found

Logan

Hayden Bishop ruined me.

From those deep cobalt eyes that showed just about every emotion to ever cross her face, to the way her lips curved up in an almost-there smile when she found something amusing. As if she wanted to smile, only she didn’t know how. I imagined her mind must be a fascinating place, and I was fascinated.

She wasn’t what I expected.

For years, I dreamed of finding her. Of finally being able to bring her home. It was all I lived for.

Her homecoming would be an atonement for all of my past sins.

Yet, I’d never really given much thought to how things would be once I found her. I’d never even entertained the idea that I would be so obsessed with her, I could barely think of anything that didn’t involve those deep blue eyes.

I was sure Mason and Gage knew my mind was off somewhere else these past couple of months. Not that Mason could say anything. After all, it was Gage and me who picked up his slack when him and Olivia were going through a rough patch about four, almost five, years back.

And now look at him. Happily married and with a child on the way.

I had a million things to do, case reports to read, case files to approve, and slew of other things that other people depended on me to do. But my concentration had been shot to bits. My mind was a million miles away.

I knew more about Hayden’s life than I dared admit, especially to her, but I only knew what I had observed this past month. I didn’t know what her life had been like when her mom took her away from us. I didn’t know what her life was like after her mom died, when Hayden was only sixteen.

Something told me I wouldn’t like the answer.

It was in her eyes. The way she viewed the world through a hardened gaze, as if she was afraid to make herself soft. Afraid the consequences of such actions were something she couldn’t live with.

I drove along the empty, quiet street, trying to ignore the pain in my back. Hayden was right when she said I needed to go to the doctor to get this stitched up, but I didn’t want to go through the trouble of explaining where I had gotten it from.

I drove to Gage’s apartment instead.

It didn’t take him long to open the door for me, and—surprise, surprise—he was still in his work clothes, his eyes clear, free from fatigue, despite the late hour. He obviously wasn’t planning on going to bed anytime soon, even though we both had an eight o’clock meeting tomorrow at the firm.

A couple of years back, Mason, Gage, and I all decided to start our own firm. Leaving behind a stable work environment to start a business in a very competitive field was no easy feat, and it felt like we hadn’t rested since.

Though it had been worth it in the end, considering where we were now, and how much it had taken off, especially in the past year, I doubted any of us would be sleeping soundly at night anytime soon.

Gage looked down to the shirt I was wearing, a question in his frown. I was still wearing the shirt Hayden gave me. It was possible this shirt belonged to an old boyfriend of hers, given the size of it. I shifted on my feet. I didn’t like the thought of wearing another man’s clothes, especially a man who had been with Hayden.

As for why that was, I didn’t want to analyze it too closely.

The shirt smelled like her, though, so I doubted that whoever the man was that he’d been in her life recently. In fact, during the month that I’d been watching her, I’d never seen her take another man home, even though the opportunity for her to do so was plentiful.

I saw the way men watched her when she was in the room. I scowled at the thought, and Gage’s frown deepened.

“What the hell are you thinking about so deeply?”

I shook my head. “Nothing. Are you going to let me in, or are we going to have this conversation out in the hallway? Not that I mind, but I need you to do something for me.”

“What?”

“Stitch me up.” I lifted the shirt to show him the bandage.

He didn’t react to the sight of the blood seeping through the white gauze, but he moved out of doorway to let me enter.

“What happened?”

“Someone tried to stab me,” I answered drily, taking a seat in his fancy-ass white leather L-shaped couch. Wouldn’t it be awesome of my blood stained it?

It would serve him right for daring to buy something so pretentious.

---