“But why?” I barely breathe the words out.
“He has a history of hurting others for sport.” I cover my mouth with my hand as my blood turns to ice and my stomach churns. No, I can’t believe that. “Mr. Parker has deep pockets. I’d bet he’d settle out of court to avoid the negative press it would bring his company. And you wouldn’t suffer over the damages he caused you.”
When I don’t reply, the man says, “I just wanted to let you know your options.” He hands out a gold-plated business card to me that reads, Johnny Black & Associates. “Here’s my card. If you decide you want to take action against Logan, call me.”
He turns and walks off, leaving me standing there running my finger along the edge of his business card and struggling to understand and accept why I fall for men who only want to hurt me.
Chapter 30
Logan
I look over the email from the lawyer once more. It’s on my phone as I sit in the car outside of Charlotte’s apartment. I’m pissed. I can’t stand waiting on the law for judges to sign off on warrants. I already have all the information they need. Although, it wasn’t obtained legally and for now I need to wait. Patterson is guilty, and I’ll spend whatever it cost to ensure he does jail time. I won’t settle on anything less.
But for now, I need to keep my head down and talk to public relations, according to the lawyer, Joseph Casings. I sigh heavily and sit back in my seat.
I grit my teeth. I don’t fucking like waiting. I can’t sit back and do nothing. Which is precisely what PR told me to do as well. To carry on as though nothing has happened. And as for Charlotte, she’s to do the same. Although I haven’t had a moment to speak with her. She hasn’t come to work, and I haven’t called her without knowing how to make this right. But I know now, I have something to offer her. I only hope it’s enough.
My body tenses and my heart slows as I think about how she must feel. I don’t know what else to do.
I fucked up though. Although Patterson would have found a way to use her against me, it’s still my fault that this is what happened. My ego gave him an opportunity that destroyed her, and no matter how much I’d like to deny it, it will affect her career. For awhile at least.
I sent out an email and made an announcement this morning. If anyone utters a word about those pictures, they’ll be fired. No questions or excuses. The legal department has to handle the rest, but it won’t be enough. Nothing can make it go away.
And now I’m sitting outside of her apartment like a lovesick puppy debating on crawling back to her and begging for her forgiveness. Debating on how, really. Not if I will… just the best way to go about it.
She needs to know that I’m sorry, and that I’m going to make it up to her as best as I can.
My heart hammers in my chest as I finally get out of the car and make my way up to her apartment, and again I feel that pain rip through me. I pause on the stairs and lean against the wall, waiting for it to pass. It doesn’t seem right. The pain radiates in my leg. Awareness races through me. My heartbeat slows with fear. But the pain seems to dim. I hold my breath, ignoring it and willing it to leave me the fuck alone. Something’s off, but it can wait. It has to wait until I’ve at least talked to her. I need to tell her. The pain lessens to a tolerable level, and I continue climbing the stairs with shortened breath. At the top, I consider calling Doctor Wallace. In the past two years, I’ve only called him once. My jaw clenches and with the pain nearly gone, I decide to let it go.
It’ll be fine. I’m fine.
I walk to her door, a gold 22 on the plate on her door, and I knock three times. I take in a steady breath and nervously straighten my jacket as I wait. I can just barely hear shuffling noises from inside her apartment and then a click of the lock.
It takes a long moment of waiting with bated breath before she opens the door slowly, only a few inches at first, and then a bit more.
My Rose.
The dark circles under her eyes make my heart sink. She looks tired and unhappy. Her lips are paler than usual, and her eyes are red and slightly swollen. My poor Rose.
“Rose,” I say and start to reach out to her, but she pulls away quickly and the soft lines of her face harden.
“Logan,” she says, leaning her body slightly forward and making it obvious that she’s not going to let me in. I’m caught off guard. I know she left me, but this seems... uncharacteristic.
“I just want to talk,” I tell her.
The expression on her face changes slightly, showing her sadness, but only for a second. A split second so fast it makes me think I imagined it.