Logan (A Cocky Cage Fighter Novel) Page 4

  “Do your parents know about him?”

  “No.”

  “You should tell them. They could help you go to the police and get a restraining order on this asshole,” Logan suggests.

  A bark of laughter escapes me because he has no idea who this guy is. Grabbing a napkin to dab at my mouth, I ask, “Do you actually think my parents would believe me?”

  “If they don’t, I could help you,” he says confidently.

  “It’s not that simple, or I would’ve done it a long time ago,” I explain. While it’s sweet of him to offer, if Logan tries to help me, he’ll end up losing everything, of that I’m certain because I’ve seen it happen before. Twice.

  Meeting his blue gaze and holding it, I ask, “Can you just give me a few days here before I have to go back? Please, Logan? If you tell my father I’m out, he will figure it out too.”

  “He? The psycho boyfriend?” Logan asks for clarification.

  “Yes, and he’s an ex-boyfriend.”

  “Does the son of a bitch have a name?”

  I shake my head, unwilling to give that piece of information to him.

  Logan scrubs both of his hands over his face that looks tired. After all, it must have taken all day to get down here and get me out of jail.

  “Logan?” I say his name to get his attention. And it works, so I give him my best puppy dog eyes. “Please?”

  Chapter Seven

  Logan

  I’m going straight to hell.

  There’s no doubt about that, because I’m staring at the most beautiful girl who has just been through a traumatic ordeal and my thoughts aren’t entirely pure. Brayden needs to be taken care of, not have a pervert like me drooling over her while my cock swells to epic proportions in my boxer briefs.

  “Could you, um,” I gesture to her chest where the collar of my much too big t-shirt is slipping down, revealing more skin than is appropriate. I’m in such bad shape, though, that I can’t verbally finish the sentence, because I haven’t seen a real pair of breasts in months and Brayden’s are really fucking nice.

  “You’ve seen me naked, so why does this bother you now?” she asks, but she at least pulls the collar up so that now I can see the outline of her tits through the thin material but much less skin.

  “It doesn’t bother me,” I respond quickly, probably too fast. “I just, you know, don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

  The truth is that, if you show a man a pair of tits, we all become bumbling, fifteen-year-old boys who can only think with our dicks. Sad but true.

  Get a fucking hold of yourself, Logan!

  Even if there wasn’t, like, a decade of age difference between us, and Brayden hadn’t just been through several days of hell or wasn’t apparently seeing some possessive asshole, she’s my boss’s daughter, which makes her completely off limits. Completely, I think again to make sure my dick hears, but none of that logic makes him retreat.

  “You never gave me an answer,” Brayden says from across the bed as she picks up her bottle of water and takes a long swig. It is good to see her eating and drinking. Already, there’s more color in her cheeks, and her eyes are brighter.

  “About what?” I ask as I focus on the food in front of me.

  “What you’re gonna tell my parents.”

  “Oh, that,” I mutter.

  “How about this,” she starts. “Instead of lying to them, you could just not call and tell them anything until they call you.”

  Thinking that proposition over, I can’t find an argument against it. If I don’t call them, then I’m not lying.

  “Fine,” I agree. “But what do I tell Page? She’s going to call and want to know what’s going on with you, for Sadie’s sake.”

  “Let me call Sadie,” Brayden offers. “She’s in North Carolina, so if I ask her not to, she won’t talk to anyone back home. Then, you can be honest with your sister since she doesn’t know my parents, right?”

  “Right,” I say with a nod of agreement. “But how long are we talking? Your father will call tomorrow, if not sooner.”

  “Three days?” she asks.

  She wants me to lie to my boss for three days. Jesus!

  “Counting today,” I say.

  “And one of the days is when we leave? That only gives me tomorrow!”

  “Fine,” I grumble as I shove a fry into my mouth and chew it up, trying to calculate out how many days I can get out of the lie that she’s still in jail and then the next lie that all the outgoing flights were full. “Two more nights after tonight. Then, the next morning we’re on a flight home.”

  “Deal,” Brayden agrees, looking pretty satisfied with herself even if I’m guessing there’s still fear lurking in the back of her mind.

  “But you don’t have to worry about this guy when you get home,” I assure her. “It’s easy to get a restraining order.”

  “No, Logan,” she shuts me down right away. “I don’t want you to do anything or say anything to anyone about this. You’re an attorney, so there’s attorney-client privilege between us, right?”

  “Not technically. You’re not paying me to be your attorney.”

  “Can I borrow some money?” she asks with a small smile.

  “How much?”

  “How much do you charge for your services?” she asks before taking another sip of water. And, dammit, but I can’t help but think that’s innuendo.

  Pulling out my wallet from my back pocket again, I pull out the first bill I come to, five dollars, and pass it to her across the bed.

  “I’ll give you a discount. Five bucks to retain me as your attorney. But I’m warning you, what they say is true — you get what you pay for.”

  “I think there was a woman on the street here in town who was offering blowjobs for the same price the other night,” Brayden tells me, which of course only makes me think of Brayden on her knees between my legs since I just handed her the same amount of money.

  Wrong, Logan, so fucking wrong.

  When she passes the money back and says, “Now I’ve paid you to be my attorney,” that inappropriate idea is thankfully shot to hell. The state bar has rules of ethics that state attorneys can’t sleep with their clients. Not unless you want to lose your license like my sister almost did when she slept with Jax.

  “What?” Brayden asks, apparently noticing the fallen expression on my face.

  “Nothing,” I tell her honestly, because this is good. If her being younger than me and the boss’s daughter wasn’t reason enough to keep my hands off of her, she just gave me the best reason of all.

  Except, my legal brain points out that there’s no contract between us and no one else knows I accepted five bucks for payment. I tell my brain to shut the fuck up before he gets us into so much shit we can’t shovel our way out.

  …

  Brayden

  “Are you sure you got enough to eat?” Logan asks for the third time.

  With a hand on my bloated stomach through his shirt that he let me borrow, I tell him, “If I eat anything else, I’m gonna be sick.”

  “Good enough,” he replies with a chuckle and his palms up in surrender. “I won’t ask again. Until tomorrow morning when I order us breakfast.”

  “Thanks, Logan, and I mean for everything,” I tell him again as I stretch out on the empty side of the bed. “I knew I couldn’t count on my parents, but I was praying someone would get me out of there.”

  “Don’t thank me. Thank Sadie,” he says. Then, he pulls his phone from his pocket and hands it to me so that I can call her.

  “I’m gonna go shower and give you some privacy,” he tells me before he gets up and walks toward the bathroom and stops at the doorway. “Is it okay if I shut the door?” he asks.

  Considering it for a moment, I don’t feel nearly as confined in the open area of the bedroom, so I tell him, “Yes.”

  With a nod, he goes inside and closes the door gently as if not to freak me out. Then, I hear the shower turn on.

  I
’m unable to stop myself from picturing Logan removing his shirt…then his pants…finally his boxer briefs before stepping into the shower, letting the water fall over his hard body.

  The tightening in my lower belly tells me I’ve gone too far and need to get a grip. I have to remind myself that even if Logan were interested in me after witnessing me being pulled from practically a sewer, it’s impossible. He works for my father, and then there’s the same reason I won’t let him help me get a restraining order. The stalker in my life would eventually find out about Logan and ruin his life.

  Shaking my head to clear the smut out of it, I look down at Logan’s phone and dial the numbers I know by heart, calling my best friend even though it’s past midnight. Sadie answers right away, like I expected she would.

  “Hello?” she says urgently into the phone.

  “Hey, it’s me,” I tell her since she won’t recognize Logan’s number.

  “Brayden! Oh, thank god. Are you okay? We’ve been so worried about you.”

  “I am now,” I tell her.

  “What the heck happened?”

  “Long story, but Logan Davenport showed up tonight, thanks to you, and got me out,” I explain.

  “I’m so glad he was able to make the trip so fast. If he couldn’t, I was going to.”

  “What? No,” I reply. “You’ve got school. And if you miss one day of summer, that’s like three regular classes.”

  “I know, but you’re more important.”

  “I appreciate that,” I tell her with a smile. “But everything is fine now. I think we’re going to stick around here a few days, so I can at least get somewhat of a vacation. Just don’t say anything to my parents, okay?”

  “No problem. I won’t call them again now that I know you’re okay. And they…” Sadie hesitates before finishing her sentence.

  “And they won’t call you because they don’t give a shit,” I finish her sentence for her.

  “Sorry, Brayden.”

  “It’s not your fault; it’s mine,” I assure her. “But don’t spend a second worrying about that.”

  “If you say so,” she replies, then I hear her yawn.

  “Sorry to call you so late. I’ll let you get back to sleep.”

  “Okay, and I hope you have some fun, if you can, the next few days.”

  “I’ll try,” I agree. “Logan’s…nice.”

  “He’s nice, huh?” she asks in a teasing tone.

  “Yeah, he is.”

  “And that’s the only adjective you’re gonna use to describe him? Not that he’s super smart, or, oh, I dunno, really hot?”

  “Don’t let Jude hear you say that,” I joke with her.

  “Tell me about it. Good thing he’s in the living room watching a movie and can’t hear me. Logan is like Jude’s arch nemesis,” she tells me with a giggle.

  “His what?”

  “The two of them have a competition going on, trying to be Xavier’s favorite uncle.”

  “Aww, that’s so sweet,” I say with a smile

  “Jude swears he’s X-man’s favorite but hates that Logan has the home field advantage since we’re miles away.”

  “Too funny,” I tell her, laughing as I picture the two grown men fighting over a little boy’s affections. Jude’s a great guy. And I’ll admit that I’m a tiny bit jealous of what Sadie and Jude have together. I’m so happy Sadie found someone perfect for her. I just wish I could have the same thing they have instead of the messed-up so-called relationship I got stuck with…

  “Well, get some rest, and I’ll talk to you soon,” Sadie says.

  “You too,” I tell her and then end the call.

  Before I can put Logan’s phone down, it starts vibrating in my hand with the name “Page” appearing on the screen. Since I can still hear the water running in the shower, I decide to answer so she won’t worry.

  “Page?” I say into the phone.

  “Yeah. Brayden?” Page asks, her voice hoarse and raspy like she’s sick.

  “Yes,” I reply. The two of us have met several times since she’s Sadie’s somewhat sister-in-law.

  “So did Logan get you out, or did he somehow end up in jail with you?” she asks, and I’m glad that she’s making light of it because I don’t want to think about the last few days.

  “He did get me out. Thank you for your help. I know you called him for Sadie,” I tell her.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t come myself, but I’m not supposed to fly this late in the pregnancy, and I’ve got stupid bronchitis.”

  “I completely understand, and I hope you feel better,” I reply, actually glad that it was Logan instead. “Logan’s in the shower, but I can have him call when he gets out. I saw your name on his phone and didn’t want you to worry when he didn’t answer.”

  “Oh,” she says, followed by silence. “You and Logan are sharing a hotel room?”

  “Ah, yeah. All they had was the villa, but there’s a pullout bed,” I quickly explain. “And I don’t really want to be alone in this town again after what happened…”

  “Yeah, of course. That makes sense,” she says. “Logan doesn’t have to call me back. I just wanted to see how things were going, but it sounds like he’s got it all under control.”

  “Yeah, Logan’s great,” I tell her.

  “Good. I’ll try to catch up with him tomorrow,” Page says.

  “Okay, thanks again,” I tell her before we end the call.

  And maybe I’m wrong, but it sounded like Page wasn’t thrilled about her brother and I sharing a room. I get it, too. She thinks I’m Trouble with a capital T, and I’m also his boss’s daughter. If anything happened between us, it would be a disaster. Throw in my psycho ex, and Logan could even be in serious danger.

  Yet, for some reason, I can’t shake the thought that over the next few days, things between Logan and I could possibly change, if he’s single. It seems almost certain since we’re a man and a woman sharing a small room together, and I’m pretty sure we both find each other attractive. It’s day one, and Logan’s already seen me naked.

  I’m not opposed to fooling around with Logan, because Sadie’s right — he’s extremely hot. But if we do, it ends here, before the plane takes off for the states, because Logan has too much to lose back home if either my father or my keeper find out. I don’t want Logan to get hurt over me. I’m just not worth it.

  Despite how much I want to end what started five years ago, I’ve given up hope of ever severing those ties with the asshole. No matter what I do, he keeps coming back even angrier and more determined than the last round. I can’t escape him. I’ve tried and failed. Even when I refuse to be with him, he keeps interfering with my life. What he did to me this time, though, leaving me in that cell for three days, was the worst things have ever gotten. I have a feeling it’s just the beginning of his torture that he promises will last the rest of my life.

  Chapter Eight

  Logan

  Once I’m finished with my quick shower because I don’t want to leave Brayden alone for too long, I put on a pair of sleep pants. And then I throw all of my soiled clothes and Brayden’s into a laundry bag. Taking it downstairs, I set it outside the villa door, trying to be discreet so that I won’t offend Brayden.

  “Smelled that bad, huh?” she asks from her seat on the edge of the bed as soon as I come back upstairs, clearly catching me in the act.

  “Just gonna have them dry-cleaned,” I lie.

  “There’s no saving my dress,” she says with a shake of her head. Then, “Your sister called. I hope you don’t mind that I answered and talked to her. I didn’t want her to worry about you.”

  “Yeah, that’s fine,” I assure her when I sit down on the other side of the bed. With Brayden sitting next to the bedside lamps, I can really see through my white tee she’s wearing without a bra. Forcing my eyes to look away and out the dark window, I ask her, “Which hotel were you and your friends staying at? I can go by in the morning to try and find your luggage.”
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  “The Oasis,” she answers. “But I’m guessing my things are long gone.”

  “Maybe not,” I reply optimistically. “If so, then I can buy you whatever you need. Just make me a list.

  “Okay, thanks,” she agrees with a nod. “I appreciate all you’ve done and are doing. It’s been a long time since someone was this nice to me.”

  “No problem,” I respond, feeling guilty about her gratitude since I bitched and complained about making the trip down here. Now I’m glad I did, because it means Brayden is going to be sleeping in a soft, comfy bed tonight with her belly full instead of curled up and hungry in a cement cell.

  “So what do you want to do tomorrow?” I ask. “I mean, assuming we find you something suitable to wear out in public?”

  Smiling before she answers, Brayden says, “How about we go to the beach? All I need is a bikini for that, and they probably sell those here at the hotel or in one of the stores across the street.”

  “I’ll get you one before I head out tomorrow in case you want to start sunbathing without me,” I assure her.

  “No, that’s okay,” she says in a rush. And it takes me seeing the panic on her face before I realize that she’s terrified of going out alone.

  “Will you be okay to stay here in the room tomorrow?” I ask.

  She nods and then swallows deeply. “Yeah, I think so. Try and hurry back, okay?”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  “And maybe put the do not disturb sign on the door so that no one knocks?”

  “Definitely,” I agree.

  “Ugh,” she groans and covers her face with both hands. “You must think I’m fucking crazy.”

  “No,” I reply truthfully. “I think you had a few bad days and it’s gonna take you some time before you get back to normal.”

  “I don’t even remember what normal is,” she says sadly with a sigh and drops her hands.

  Seeing her upset is the worst, so I tell her, “How about we get some sleep for now and dream happy thoughts about spending the day at the beach? You know, I don’t even remember how long it’s been since I was on vacation.”