I looked automatically toward Clementine, suddenly fearing for her safety. “Patrick is the Mob boss?” I couldn’t believe I was even having this conversation. “The same Mob your grandfather once headed?” I accused.
His eyes closed as if that fact haunted him, and he gave a slight nod. “Yeah, but things are different now. Patrick Flannigan runs things with his only son, Tommy. They’re both sick bastards and you need to stay clear at any cost.”
This picture Logan painted sounded so dismal. From what Michael had told me, it all sounded so simple. But then again Michael never mentioned the word Mob or Mafia, either.
Hot breath blew across my neck. “We need to figure out if someone was in O’Shea’s house. I’d have already gone there, but if Patrick is watching the house, he can’t know I’m involved.”
Fear bloomed to life within me. This was the two sides coming to a crossroads, and it was clear Logan was on one side and I was on the other. What wasn’t clear was why he was trying to step toward the divide.
He lifted my chin. “Elle.”
My name was spoken again with concern in his voice. Everything about him was incredibly confusing and as I looked into his eyes, I wished it weren’t. “What happens if he finds out?”
“He can’t.”
“And if he does? Will you have to choose sides? Should I be afraid of you?”
Logan inched closer. “What kind of question is that?” he snapped.
“One I need to know the answer to before I spend another minute with you.” I regretted those words the second they left my mouth.
Everything about him went hard. “If you don’t already know the answer to that, then maybe you should just leave now.”
I wasn’t surprised by his response. He’d asked me to trust him and now I was questioning everything about him. It was just that the situation I was finding myself in was nothing any level of preparation could manage, and I couldn’t stand that. I’d endured helplessness with my mother because I was too young to do anything about it. But when I feared for myself, I taught myself how to fight back. This was different. Clementine could be in the car with Michael and he could get run off the road. He could be anywhere, at any time, with her, and out of nowhere danger could strike.
Clementine pulled on my pants.
I hadn’t even realized she’d moved beside me.
I looked down.
“Don,” Clementine cooed.
Which was her way of saying “done.”
I picked her up. “Okay, silly girl, let’s get you changed.”
My eyes softened of their own volition as I glanced back at Logan. “You have to understand the situation I am finding myself in isn’t only about me,” I glanced at my niece. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said that, but you need to see things from my point of view.”
His demeanor made me want to reach out to him, but I didn’t. We had to trust each other; it wasn’t one-sided. He was going to have to realize that.
“I’m going to go change Clementine and then take her for a walk in the park. No one knows I’m here. I’ll be safe. If you want me to leave, I’ll put our things in my car. If not, then when I get back we can head over to the boutique and see if the opener is in my other bag.”
Logan grabbed for my hand and looked at me for a few moments. “Look, I’m sorry, but I had to warn you. It was time you understood just how serious this is.”
I didn’t want to sound as scared as I was, so I went for strong. “I think I’m well aware of just how serious this is, but there’s more to it.” I looked at Clementine. “I’m not only responsible for myself here.”
“I know that.” His voice dipped low.
My body was trembling as my strength diminished, but I clung to it and crossed the room quickly. I had to get out of that room. Away from Logan. Behind the closed door of the bedroom, I set Clementine down and found myself crumpling to the bed.
What had my sister done?
Where was she?
Did she know her child was in danger?
Anger flared up inside me, and it was what I needed to pull myself together.
I had to make sure Clementine would be safe.
I didn’t need a man messing with my head.
I’d avoided it too long to let it happen now.
LOGAN
Terrific, I thought.
When she slammed the door, I couldn’t breathe. I felt as if I’d stabbed myself in the heart.
Guns, I could handle. The torture of high-society galas—a piece of cake. Fuck, even the threat of physical pain didn’t faze me anymore. But women—I didn’t know a damn thing about how to cope with their feelings. Just the word feelings had my stomach in knots.
I let out a forced breath. At least I’d told her just how serious things were. She needed to know. Thinking about it now, I felt a surge of relief. And something else—a strange feeling I couldn’t quite describe.
Fucking feelings.
Toughening up, I looked at the situation realistically. Elle could be angry with me if she wanted, but she wasn’t going out alone. I winced that I’d told her she should leave. Like I’d let her. There was no fucking way that was happening. I needed to learn to tame my temper around her because I could tell she wasn’t going to make excuses for me.
Time to get ready. I grabbed my sweatshirt, hat, and sunglasses that were thrown on the chair from the other day, and then I slipped my gun into my back holster where I always carried it.
While I waited, I glanced out the window. The Charles River was glassy with the sun reflecting off it. Spring was close and the dead of winter was gone. I stared out at the Boston skyline and the in-between stage the city was in. Most of trees were bare, but some were starting to bloom. Within the next month, the Public Garden would be filled with blooming cherry blossoms and the swan boat would be in full gear. Busying my thoughts with random facts about the city helped distract me from what was blooming within myself. That was one thing I didn’t want to come to life.
I won’t say she snuck up on me, but let’s just say I didn’t hear the pitter-patter of Clementine’s tiny feet, until I felt someone tugging on my pants.
“Up,” she demanded.
With a glance down, I froze like a deer in headlights.
She tugged again. “Up,” she repeated.
She wanted me to pick her up?
With uncertainty, I glanced toward the doorway just as Elle entered the room. “Come on, Clementine—we’ll go outside where you can see the ducks better,” she said.
When I looked back out the window, I noticed the flock of ducks. Funny, I hadn’t before. “You want to see them?” I asked Clementine, pointing out the window.
The cute little thing nodded with glee.
Unable to deny her, I picked her up under her arms and put her on my hip like I’d seen Elle do.
She leaned toward the glass until her forehead was touching it and started saying, “Duck, duck, quack-quack.”
Her excitement was contagious and with a genuine smile on my face, I turned toward Elle to say something but paused for a moment just to look at her. Her hair was pulled back, but still it appeared untamed.
Beautiful.
Like her.
The thought of taming her or better yet, never taming her, had my blood pumping. Her ginger locks still bounced, even tied back, as she wheeled the empty stroller to the door. They were mesmerizing. I watched her until I realized she was gathering her bags and getting ready to leave. And then my heart felt like it was swinging at a ball and missing the contact with each try. Like I just couldn’t win no matter how hard I tried, but this time, I really wanted to.