Billionaire Bodyguard
Page 45
“Only the decisions that affect me.”
“If that’s your criteria, then by all rights everything needs your stamp of approval. Because what I do, every day, affects my life with you. You’re a part of me.”
A tear slid loose, gliding down her cheek. “There has to be a balance, Logan. We need a separation. To figure out where we can compromise. If we can compromise.”
Angry and hurt and frustrated, he lost his temper. “Compromise? You’ve already packed your bags. I should’ve figured this was coming. The going gets tough, someone gets too close, and Allison runs. That’s why you keep your shit in boxes. You need your freedom so goddamn bad, you can’t see when something’s worth sticking around for.” He whipped his arm toward the door. “Fine. Keep running. I’m done chasing something that doesn’t want to be caught.”
Her face went white. “That’s not fair.”
“You want to talk about not fair? I’ve given you everything. I don’t understand what the hell you want from me!”
The hurt and sadness in her eyes pummeled him. “I hope someday you will.”
It felt like everything he’d ever wanted was slipping through his hands. His heart shredded. Stubborn, selfish pride took hold. Instead of saying I love you, stay , he retaliated. “When you walk out that door, we’re over.”
“I’d hoped what we mean to each other was stronger than ultimatums.” Another tear, then another cascaded down her face. “I was wrong.”
Then she left.
The click of the front door latch sounded like a cannon.
This wasn’t happening.
“Fuck.” His shout echoed through his house like a bullet shattering stained glass. “Fuck!”
He paced every square inch of his home. He bit his thumb nail down to the quick. He didn’t even know what the hell he was trying to figure out.
All he knew was he had just watched his future walk out the door. And he wasn’t sure he could get it back.
CHAPTER 11
Logan spent the next thirty-six hours straight at work.
He didn’t go home. He didn’t shave. He took showers at the nearby gym after working out. He wore jeans and long-sleeved t-shirts, told the receptionists to hold his calls or take messages. The rare moments he left the confines of his office, he glared at anyone who approached him.
He became a recluse in his own life.
He didn’t stop to care.
Work had piled up while he’d been home taking care of Allison. He had enough to keep him preoccupied for weeks, if necessary. Anything to escape the emptiness growing inside him.
The sky darkened behind him as he hunched over his desk, absorbed in concentration. Sometime after sunset, his office door sailed open.
He didn’t bother looking up. “Go away.”
“You look like something my cat hoarked up last night.”
Logan glared at Rick beneath the shelf of his brows. “A disgusting, hairy blob of puke. I’m touched.”
“Don’t forget the mouse entrails.”
Logan dropped his pen. “Do you need something? Or did you run out of people to annoy?”
Rick sighed regretfully. “Everyone else went home. It’s eight o’clock on a Friday night. So yeah, you’re it.”
“Go home to your wife and your happy life. Leave me alone.”
“Vivi has friends over for a scrapbooking party.” He shuddered. “I’d rather hang out with rattlesnakes.”
“Keep bugging me, that’s what you’ll get.”
“Yeah, yeah. All rattle and no bite.”
Logan shot to his feet. “Try me.”
Rick slanted him a look. “You’re the crankiest son-of-a-bitch when your heart’s broken.”
“Nothing’s broken,” Logan muttered. Decimated, pulverized, reduced to a pathetic heap, maybe. But not broken. No one would break him.
“When was the last time you slept?”
“Don’t remember.”
“When’s the last time you had a beer?”
“Too long.”
Rick nodded toward the door. “I’ve got a twelve pack of winter lager, your favorite microbrew. Let’s hit your place, shoot some pool. It’s been a long time since we hung out.”
“Not in the mood.”
“Dude, you’d be doing me a huge favor. I mean, scrapbooking? C’mon, you’d really leave me to that horrific fate?”
Logan scratched his unshaven jaw. “You know you’re bad off when your only alternative is me.”
Rick eyed at him solemnly. “I’ll owe you.”
“Fine.” Logan exhaled. “I was sick of signing my name for the thousandth time anyway.”
“Thanks, man. You’re a lifesaver.”
At least someone appreciated Logan’s skills in that arena.
After a few hours, and more than a few beers, he felt less like cat vomit and more like himself. Except for the monster-truck-sized hole in his chest where his heart used to beat. They shot pool, best out of six. Logan won, as usual. For a guy with sniper training, Rick was a lousy shot on the pool table. It felt good to win at something. Since he’d just lost the most important thing in his life.
“Heavy thoughts, my friend.” Rick knew him way too well. His friend dragged out a kitchen stool and sat at the counter while Logan rummaged for food. “Care to share?”
“Nope.”
“Logan, this is killing you.”
“Whatever.”
“So you’re going the denial route.” Rick tapped his fingers on his beer bottle. “That’s not going to get her back.”
“Screw that,” Logan growled. “I did nothing wrong.” Small comfort. He hadn’t come home last night because he couldn’t handle sleeping in his bed without her.
“It’s no way to live, Logan.”
Existing was a better description. The thought of going through the rest of his life without Allison amounted to a living hell. His eyes stung hotly. He blinked, took a long pull of his beer. His favorite seasonal brew and he barely even tasted it.
“Nothing makes sense without her,” Logan admitted. “I don’t know. I guess somehow she thinks by putting a guard on her, I was smothering her, or something. Oh, and all I care about is the baby.”
“If you and Allison went back as far and you and I do, she’d know better.”
“Well, we don’t. And she doesn’t know. It’s not about the baby—I mean, it is. Of course it is. But it’s not only about the baby, never has been. I wanted her in my life before she got pregnant.”
“If that’s your criteria, then by all rights everything needs your stamp of approval. Because what I do, every day, affects my life with you. You’re a part of me.”
A tear slid loose, gliding down her cheek. “There has to be a balance, Logan. We need a separation. To figure out where we can compromise. If we can compromise.”
Angry and hurt and frustrated, he lost his temper. “Compromise? You’ve already packed your bags. I should’ve figured this was coming. The going gets tough, someone gets too close, and Allison runs. That’s why you keep your shit in boxes. You need your freedom so goddamn bad, you can’t see when something’s worth sticking around for.” He whipped his arm toward the door. “Fine. Keep running. I’m done chasing something that doesn’t want to be caught.”
Her face went white. “That’s not fair.”
“You want to talk about not fair? I’ve given you everything. I don’t understand what the hell you want from me!”
The hurt and sadness in her eyes pummeled him. “I hope someday you will.”
It felt like everything he’d ever wanted was slipping through his hands. His heart shredded. Stubborn, selfish pride took hold. Instead of saying I love you, stay , he retaliated. “When you walk out that door, we’re over.”
“I’d hoped what we mean to each other was stronger than ultimatums.” Another tear, then another cascaded down her face. “I was wrong.”
Then she left.
The click of the front door latch sounded like a cannon.
This wasn’t happening.
“Fuck.” His shout echoed through his house like a bullet shattering stained glass. “Fuck!”
He paced every square inch of his home. He bit his thumb nail down to the quick. He didn’t even know what the hell he was trying to figure out.
All he knew was he had just watched his future walk out the door. And he wasn’t sure he could get it back.
CHAPTER 11
Logan spent the next thirty-six hours straight at work.
He didn’t go home. He didn’t shave. He took showers at the nearby gym after working out. He wore jeans and long-sleeved t-shirts, told the receptionists to hold his calls or take messages. The rare moments he left the confines of his office, he glared at anyone who approached him.
He became a recluse in his own life.
He didn’t stop to care.
Work had piled up while he’d been home taking care of Allison. He had enough to keep him preoccupied for weeks, if necessary. Anything to escape the emptiness growing inside him.
The sky darkened behind him as he hunched over his desk, absorbed in concentration. Sometime after sunset, his office door sailed open.
He didn’t bother looking up. “Go away.”
“You look like something my cat hoarked up last night.”
Logan glared at Rick beneath the shelf of his brows. “A disgusting, hairy blob of puke. I’m touched.”
“Don’t forget the mouse entrails.”
Logan dropped his pen. “Do you need something? Or did you run out of people to annoy?”
Rick sighed regretfully. “Everyone else went home. It’s eight o’clock on a Friday night. So yeah, you’re it.”
“Go home to your wife and your happy life. Leave me alone.”
“Vivi has friends over for a scrapbooking party.” He shuddered. “I’d rather hang out with rattlesnakes.”
“Keep bugging me, that’s what you’ll get.”
“Yeah, yeah. All rattle and no bite.”
Logan shot to his feet. “Try me.”
Rick slanted him a look. “You’re the crankiest son-of-a-bitch when your heart’s broken.”
“Nothing’s broken,” Logan muttered. Decimated, pulverized, reduced to a pathetic heap, maybe. But not broken. No one would break him.
“When was the last time you slept?”
“Don’t remember.”
“When’s the last time you had a beer?”
“Too long.”
Rick nodded toward the door. “I’ve got a twelve pack of winter lager, your favorite microbrew. Let’s hit your place, shoot some pool. It’s been a long time since we hung out.”
“Not in the mood.”
“Dude, you’d be doing me a huge favor. I mean, scrapbooking? C’mon, you’d really leave me to that horrific fate?”
Logan scratched his unshaven jaw. “You know you’re bad off when your only alternative is me.”
Rick eyed at him solemnly. “I’ll owe you.”
“Fine.” Logan exhaled. “I was sick of signing my name for the thousandth time anyway.”
“Thanks, man. You’re a lifesaver.”
At least someone appreciated Logan’s skills in that arena.
After a few hours, and more than a few beers, he felt less like cat vomit and more like himself. Except for the monster-truck-sized hole in his chest where his heart used to beat. They shot pool, best out of six. Logan won, as usual. For a guy with sniper training, Rick was a lousy shot on the pool table. It felt good to win at something. Since he’d just lost the most important thing in his life.
“Heavy thoughts, my friend.” Rick knew him way too well. His friend dragged out a kitchen stool and sat at the counter while Logan rummaged for food. “Care to share?”
“Nope.”
“Logan, this is killing you.”
“Whatever.”
“So you’re going the denial route.” Rick tapped his fingers on his beer bottle. “That’s not going to get her back.”
“Screw that,” Logan growled. “I did nothing wrong.” Small comfort. He hadn’t come home last night because he couldn’t handle sleeping in his bed without her.
“It’s no way to live, Logan.”
Existing was a better description. The thought of going through the rest of his life without Allison amounted to a living hell. His eyes stung hotly. He blinked, took a long pull of his beer. His favorite seasonal brew and he barely even tasted it.
“Nothing makes sense without her,” Logan admitted. “I don’t know. I guess somehow she thinks by putting a guard on her, I was smothering her, or something. Oh, and all I care about is the baby.”
“If you and Allison went back as far and you and I do, she’d know better.”
“Well, we don’t. And she doesn’t know. It’s not about the baby—I mean, it is. Of course it is. But it’s not only about the baby, never has been. I wanted her in my life before she got pregnant.”
