-Hailey-
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“Mom and Pop are here,” Logan said. His voice was calm, and he squeezed my thigh reassuringly like he could sense my dread.
“Should we go inside?” I asked, suddenly self–conscious.
Logan shook his head. “Nah… they saw my bike. They know we’re here.”
As if on cue, the sliding glass door opened behind us and Talon stepped out onto the patio with three beers clutched in one hand. His green eyes
so much like Logan’s – landed on me first, then Logan.
–
“Well, look what the dog dragged in.” His voice was warm but carried an edge of authority. He handed me a beer, then Logan, before cracking open his own.
Logan’s mom followed, her smile soft and inviting. She held her beer in one hand and reached toward me with the other. I stood, and she pulled me into a hug that felt surprisingly comforting.
“Nice to finally meet you, Hailey.”
–
“You too, Mrs. Nash,” I murmured, feeling heat creep into my cheeks. Her perfume was soft, floral so different from the metallic tang of the police station. I almost flinched at the contrast.
“Oh, please. Call me Laura.” She pulled back, her gaze lingering on me for a second before she turned to Logan.
He stood from his chair, and she hugged him even tighter. “It’s been too long, baby boy,” she murmured against his chest.
“Yeah… Been busy,” Logan muttered, though I could hear the affection in his voice.
Talon clapped Logan on the shoulder with a firm grip. “Good to see you both.”
We settled back into our chairs, and Laura sat beside me. Talon leaned against the edge of the patio table, his gaze sharp but friendly.
“So,” Talon started, casual but probing. “What gives us the honor of your presence?”
Logan shrugged, taking a long pull from his beer. “Needed a break. Thought Hailey could use some quiet.”
Talon’s eyes flicked to me. “Yeah… the boys just filled us in. How ou holdin‘ up, Hailey? How was the interrogation… did Kat make it there in time?”
The words sent a flicker of unease through me. I wondered what version of the story had reached the club – and how long before Becker twisted it into something worse.
I glanced at Logan, unsure how much to say. “I’m… hanging in,” said, my voice steadier than I expected. “Kat showed up. She shut it all down pretty quickly.”
Talon nodded. “Good. Becker’s a prick, but he’s predictable. He keep sniffin‘ around, but Kat won’t let him get far.”
Laura reached over, her hand warm on mine, “I’m so sorry you going through this. But you’re safe here.”
Her kindness was so unexpected, and I felt a lump form in my throat. “Thank you,” I murmured.
Talon took a swig of his beer, his eyes narrowing as he studied . “You ever held a gun before last night?”
Logan shot him a look, but he waved him off.
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The question caught me off guard. “No… not really. Logan let me practice a little.”
He grunted, nodding slowly. “Fair enough. You handled it better than most.”
I wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or just an observation, bu nodded. “I didn’t have much of a choice.”
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His gaze softened, just a little. “Sometimes that’s how it is. You d what you gotta do. Right, angel?” His eyes moved to Laura and he smirked.
I watched a blush seep into her cheeks. “Yep,” she sighed. “Have kill them before they kill you.”
I almost choked on my beer again, glancing at Logan. “Shit. Those badass genes come from both sides of the family.”
Logan shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips.
The conversation shifted after that, easier and lighter. Laura asked me about my work at the tattoo shop, and I found myself relaxing as I talked about Stella and the girls, the clients, and the art I loved creating.
Talon chimed in with stories about Logan as a kid – how he’d built his first bike and then immediately crashed into a ditch. And about the time he set the garage on fire.
Logan groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Pop, c’mon. She doesn’t need to hear about that.”
Laura laughed, her eyes sparkling. “Oh, she definitely does.”
I smiled, feeling a warmth in my chest I hadn’t felt in a long time. For a minute, it was easy to forget everything that had happened over the last few days. It felt like I belonged.
A few beers later, as the sun dipped behind the trees, Laura stood and stretched. “I’m gonna get started on dinner. You kids hungry?”
I nodded, standing too. “I’ll help.”
She waved me off. “You sit.”
Logan stood, grabbing all of the empty beer bottles. “How ‘bout we all come inside. I wanna fix my gearbox before dinner.”
I followed Logan into the garage, and the scent of motor oil and sawdust hit me. Tools lined a massive pegboard, and there were three separate workbenches scattered with motorcycle parts.
Logan tossed the bottles into a recycling bin and pressed a button to open the garage door.
I watched him move with practiced ease, wheeling his bike into the garage and pulling tools from the pegboard. His focus was intense, his hands steady as he started dismantling the gearbox.
I leaned against the wall, pulling my hoodie tighter around me a cool evening air drifted in. And I just… watched him.
There was something mesmerizing about the way he worked the way his muscles flexed under his t–shirt, the way his brow furrowed in concentration.
“You just gonna stand there starin‘, Ace?” he asked without looking up, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
I shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Making sure you don’t set the place on fire again.”
He chuckled, glancing up at me. “That was one time. And I was ke nine.”
“Nine?” I raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like you’ve been causing truble since day one.”
He glanced up again, his green eyes glinting with mischief. “Sing the diaper days. Trouble’s in my blood, darlin… You know
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that by now.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Oh, I do.”
He paused, sitting back with a smirk. “C’mere. Hold this.” He hel out the wrench.
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I hesitated, then pushed off the wall and reached to take it from im. But instead of letting go, he used it to pull me onto his lap. The rolling stool he was sitting on sagged under our weight, but he didn’t seem to care.
We fell into a rhythm, him directing me with quiet commands, anding me tools. It was easy, natural. A nice distraction. from everything.
The sound of Laura’s voice drifted from the kitchen, calling us in for dinner. Logan wiped his hands on a rag and tossed it to me. “Guess we’re finished for now.”
I nodded, following him back into the house. The smell of garlic and herbs filled the air, and my stomach growled in response. Laura stood at the stove, stirring a pot of pasta, while Talon set the table.
Dinner was… normal. Surprisingly so. Laura told more stories about Scarlett and Logan growing up, Talon chimed in with his own anecdotes, and I found myself laughing more than I had in ages.
But as the night wore on, the weight of everything started to creep back in. The interrogation, Becker, the way Logan had looked at me in Matt’s living room. Like I was something fragile something he needed to protect.
I excused myself after dinner, stepping out onto the porch to get some air. The stars were bright overhead, the cicadas humming in the trees. I leaned against the railing, closing my eyes and trying to breathe.
I heard the door creak open behind me, and then I felt Logan’s arms around my waist.
I leaned into him, letting his warmth seep into me. His chin rested on my shoulder, his breath warm against my neck. From the corner of my eye, I saw a cigarette dangling from his lips.
I reached up and plucked it from his mouth, and he chuckled, handing me the lighter. “You okay, Ace?” he asked.
I nodded, lighting the cigarette. “Just… processing everything.”
He pressed a kiss to my cheek, his arms tightening around me. “Lot to process.”
I sighed, taking a long drag from the cigarette and staring out at the dark fields. “Yeah.”
“Well, Talon’s bustin‘ out the hard stuff… Tequila. You rather stay here and get shitfaced with my parentals or head back to the clubhouse and get shitfaced with those assholes?”
He took the cigarette from me and took a drag before continuing. “Gearbox is still hangin‘ open… we could crash here and finish it in the morning.”
I leaned back into his chest. “Honestly?” I murmured after a few seconds, taking the cigarette from him and taking another drag. “Getting shitfaced with your parents sounds…. oddly appealing. I like it out here, away from the city. Reminds me of home.”
Logan chuckled, the vibration rumbling through my back. “Knew you were gonna say that. Fair warning, they don’t hold back when it comes to tequila. You’ll regret it tomorrow.”
“I think I’m already regretting tonight,” I admitted, exhaling a plume of smoke into the air. “But in a weird way, it’s nice. Being here, I mean. It’s… normal. Which is the last thing I expected.”
His arms tightened around me, and he pressed another kiss to the side of my neck. “You got a weird version of normal.”
I turned my head slightly to look at him. The glow from the porch light cast soft shadows across his face, making his green
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eyes seem even darker. “You wouldn’t know normal if it slapped ou across the face,” I said softly. “You’re all chaos and leather and bad decisions.”
He smirked, taking the cigarette from my fingers and bringing it to his lips. He didn’t respond right away, just smoked quietly, his gaze fixed on the fields stretching out in front of us.
—
After a minute, he sighed. “You know, Ace, I ain’t good at this shit the feelings… the talking. But… I’m glad you’re here. You make it easier.”
His words caught me off guard, and I felt my heart skip a beat. “Easier?” I whispered.
He nodded, his chin brushing against my hair. “Yeah. Easier to breathe, easier to think. You just… fit, I guess. Even when everything else is fucked.”
I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. “Logan, I…..”
The door creaked open behind us, and Laura’s voice cut through the moment. “Logan, Hailey, you two comin‘ back in? Talon’s pouring shots.”
Logan let out a low groan, his arms slipping from around me. “Duty calls,” he muttered, offering me his hand. “You ready to regret tomorrow?”
I took his hand. “With you? No regrets.”
But even as I said, it, I felt the words settle in my chest like a stone.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
