Chapter 20
Waking on the cold, hard tiled floor sometime the next day, I felt as if a skunk had sprayed in my mouth and I had iron pokers sticking in my head.
Groaning, I used the toilet to hoist myself up to the sink, tagged my toothbrush, piled on toothpaste, and stuck it in my mouth. I did that three times then tilted my head into the sink and drank the cool water relieving some of my dry mouth.
As I shut off the water, my purse vibrated beside the toilet on the floor. Falling back onto my ass, I propped up against the cupboard while shuffling through my purse for my phone. I glanced at the screen and groaned again.
“You’re calling me this early on purpose, aren’t you? Punishment for my sins.”
Logan chuckled, and despite loving the sound of his sexy, deep chuckle that I rarely heard, I held the phone away from my ear.
“Ouch.”
“That good?”
“Hmmm.” Closing my eyes, I brought my knees up to hook my arm around them.
“I should be there.”
I huffed. “Yeah, you’d be clanging frying pans together.”
“No, I’d bring you breakfast in bed with Advil.”
Shit. Damn it, why did he have to do sweet? It made all my reservations about him blowtorch into ash. And I had no return comment.
“That’s after I talked to you about last night, Eme.” He paused, and I could picture him running his hand through his hair; I wanted my hands running through it. Well, maybe not such a good idea right at this moment. I put my head down and rested it on my knees. “When we talk, it’s good. Then last night we didn’t. I got caught up with the new manager, and I couldn’t call you. We did our gig, and I tried after the set, but you didn’t pick up. I thought you might be asleep, so I called Matt after we were done to see how Strikeback was working out, and he told me you were there. Then he said you were slurring your words. Eight cosmos. Eight.”
“Um yeah. I’m paying for it today, trust me.”
“Emily. You had eight cosmos, and I wasn’t there to take care of you. I called, and you never picked up and ... f*ck, Eme, I was worried.”
Well, to be fair, I hadn’t heard my phone ringing, although even if I had I wouldn’t have picked it up. Not last night on my mission of stamp removal. “Twenty times,” I mumbled.
“Yeah. Twenty times.” He sounded really mad, the kind of mad where he just had to look at you and there’d be no more arguing. Luckily, I couldn’t see his face.
“Logan, I didn’t hear the phone.”
“Yeah.” He sighed. “Mouse, you go out with the girls, I need you to make sure you can hear your phone. You were drunk and slurring your words. Ethan was thinking he was getting some, and I wasn’t there and couldn’t get there. Jesus ... There’s some shit happening that—” He stopped abruptly. “You not answering your phone and then getting drunk at the bar ...” He groaned and it sounded like he hit something hard with his fist. “F*ck.” He paused then in a soft voice he said, “I get nightmares, baby. Everything inside me wants to protect you and I feel like I keep failing.”
I lifted my head and hit it on the cupboard door. Wow. Just wow. And also shit. I quietly said, “Matt was there. And Logan ... you can’t fail at something that isn’t your responsibility.”
I was hung over, sitting with the phone to my ear listening to Logan’s words, and feeling like crying. Him saying stuff like that made it difficult to keep my emotions hardened against him.
Logan had been worried. He had nightmares. He thought he was failing me.
I wasn’t going to cry. God, it felt overwhelmingly good that he’d been worried, and it scared me. I didn’t want any guy to ever control me again.
He wanted to make certain I was safe. He knew Ethan was a dog and freaked on him. “I gave him my number,” I blurted out.
He made a sort of grunt. “All I had to do was get you drunk? Eme, really?”
“Well, in my defense I was pissed at you. So I gave it to him.”
“You were pissed at me?”
“Yeah, Logan. I was mad.”
“Why, baby?” His tone had softened, and I imagined him singing a slow love ballad in his graveled, sexy voice, microphone between his hands, eyes closed. Yeah, I knew he could sing a love song really well. And I didn’t want to answer his question. “Why?”
I rubbed my hand down the side of my face. If I wasn’t so hung over I’d have some kind of evasive technique. “You didn’t call.”
“Sweet Jesus.”
“I was being stupid, and I wanted to try and forget you, and alcohol can do that if you drink enough, which I tried to do but—”
“Engraved Emily.” I knew exactly what he meant. “I know you’re scared about us, but when I get back we’ll work it out. Baby, if you need a call from me then call. If I’m busy I’ll tell you I’m busy, and I’ll call you back. Don’t go out pissed off at me and drink with the girls all night and give your number to some guy you don’t know.” I heard him cover the mouth piece and shout something to Crisis. “Eme, I have to go.”
“Okay. Logan?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry. I mean for whatever happened to you after ... you know, after you,” I took a deep breath, “got me out.”
There was breathing on the other end, but he didn’t respond.
“Deck said last night ... he respects you. He said it was bad after I left. It had to do with me leaving, didn’t it?”
He still didn’t answer.
“Tell me he didn’t hurt you.” I felt the tears well up, because I knew. Deck wouldn’t push this if it wasn’t something horrible, and knowing Raul and his cruel streak, I suspected he didn’t take me leaving and Logan’s involvement very well.
“I’ll call you later before the gig. Coffee. Advil. Then a big breakfast. Okay?”
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
“Eat something, Eme.”
“Okay.”
“If Ethan calls, you tell him you don’t date dogs.”
I smiled. Logan hung up.
I held the phone to my chest, trying to hold back tears. I realized that Logan not saying anything meant whatever went down had been bad. Raul was cruel, but would he have harmed his own son? I knew already—yes. Raul wouldn’t let anyone get away with making him out to be a fool.