Crush

“Wait for me to come around,” I told her and then got out. As soon as I did, the kitchen door flung open. My old man stood there, gun at his side, eyes shifting in the night. I gave him a nod and rushed over to Elle’s side. I tried not to show her the fear that was flowing through my veins.

With my hand on the small of her back, I guided her toward what used to be my gramps’s house and was now my old man’s. She fidgeted. Her fingers combed through her hair and she smoothed it. It was then that I realized she hadn’t formally met my father yet. The run-in at O’Shea’s law office, more than a week ago, wasn’t the impression I wanted her to have of him.

My old man stood stoic as we hurried through the door. His eyes met mine when I passed him and I could see the disapproval in them over the deal I’d made with the DEA, but he said nothing. Instead he followed us in and secured the door behind him. Once he slid his gun inside his waistband, he surveyed us. The creases around his eyes and lines on his face told me he was worried too.

We were all standing in my gramps’s kitchen and the ghosts couldn’t have had any larger of a presence. With lingering visions of blood everywhere, I closed my eyes and had to forcibly suppress the memories of the night Tommy attacked me and my then somewhat-girlfriend Kayla in here.

“Logan,” my father said quietly as if he knew what I was envisioning.

The sound of his voice made me blink out of the horrific flashback.

Focusing on Elle, I knew it was time to break the ice and do the formal introductions, as awkward as they seemed in a situation like this. “Pop, this is Elle Sterling. Elle, this is my father, Sean McPherson.”

She held her hand out. “Nice to meet you, Mr. McPherson.”

To my surprise, Sean McPherson, attorney-at-law, admitted alcoholic, my part-time boss and my old man, stepped forward and hugged her. “Call me Sean.”

The embrace wasn’t long, but it was enough that I could see the look of relief on her face. Had she been worried about meeting him?

“Coffee?” my old man asked, stepping back.

“No, thank you,” Elle replied.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind a cup, if you want to make a pot. I’m going to take Elle up to my room. She’s tired.”

My father nodded and then started for the sink.

“This way.” I took Elle’s hand and her bag and we headed toward the family room, and then up the stairs to the room I was staying in.

Once we were in there, Elle looked anywhere but at me.

My shit was everywhere. I’d only been here a few days since moving out of the Four Seasons and hadn’t bothered to unpack anything. I was living out of duffle bags. I reached inside one and pulled out a pair of track pants and a sweatshirt. “You’ll be safe here. No one but Tommy would ever come to Killian McPherson’s house. And with Miles, his crew, and my father on guard, he’ll never make it past the threshold even if he tries.”

“I know you wouldn’t take me anywhere that wasn’t safe,” she whispered. I could tell she was scared. I hated that she was.

Wanting to get out on the street as fast as I could, I quickly stripped out of my dress clothes and changed.

Elle walked over to the bureau and picked up the picture that was sitting on it. “Is this you?”

“Yeah, I was around four, and that’s my grandmother and grandfather.”

“I can see the resemblance.”

Dressed, I sat on the bed and put my sneakers on. “The bathroom is at the end of the hall. Ask my old man for anything you need.”

She nodded but didn’t turn around. She just kept staring at the picture.

“Elle, I have to go,” I said, standing and grabbing my hat. As I headed for the door I wanted to go over to her, put my arms around her, and kiss her, but it didn’t feel right. Not right now. Not when she was in danger. Not when everything was so fucked up.

Her voice caught me just before I hit the hallway. “Be careful,” she said quietly.

I waited a moment, to see if she’d turn around.

She didn’t.

Better that way.

Quickly, I closed the door and my mind to the struggle I was feeling between my head and my heart. I’d told her we were in this together, but that was before. Before the note. Before the one thing I wasn’t sure I could wrap my head around—Tommy hurting Elle. That’s why I had to focus on removing the threat; everything else would have to wait.

Downstairs, Declan and Miles had already arrived. They were sitting at the kitchen table with my old man. They all looked at me solemnly when I entered the room.

“Is she all set?” my father asked.

I nodded and headed to the coffeepot to pour a cup.

“Who else knows what you did besides Frank and Elle?” He asked this as he walked to the kitchen door. Frank lived next door, but his house was completely dark. He must have been asleep. I doubted he knew anything about the takedown—yet.

“No one, and Frank doesn’t really know anything. Only that I needed some empty liquor boxes. But I’m sure when he sees the news, he’ll figure it out.”

Kim Karr's books