Page 72 of No First Kisses

I just need to stay alive a little bit longer.

He didn’t cover my head. He didn’t knock me out. He didn’t put me into the trunk.

He is an idiot.

My fingers reach into the pocket of my leggings where I brush against the cold steel of the weapon I have at my disposal. When I see his vile smile in the rearview mirror, I wipe my face completely, bringing my hands up to protect and cradle my stomach.

Dead women can’t save themselves.

26

LOGAN

Hospitals smell terrible. Like the combined scent of bleach and antiseptic that you’ll never be able to scrub off your skin, even when you sit in a hot bath covered in all the scented shit that women take showers with.

“You gotta wake up before I get Poppy back,” I whisper into Bax’s hair as I hold his body around the tubes and machines that are currently keeping my baby brother alive. “She’s gonna be so pissed if our baby has to be named Baxter. You know she hates that beer, but if you die, she’s not gonna have any choice in the name. The same way that Remy and Parker named their baby after Cassie, she’s gonna demand that we name our little boy after you.”

From her seat on the other side of Bax’s hospital bed, my mom snorts. I look up to find her holding his hand, her eyes red and swollen from crying for hours.

Twelve hours. Twelve hours since Ortega shot my little brother and took Poppy from my house. Twelve hours of not knowing if my brother is going to make it. Or if he’s killed Poppy and threw her body on the side of the road. Twelve hours for every single fear that I’ve ever had over the last fourteen years to come roaring back with the fire and determination of my worst nightmares.

“I can’t lose another baby,” my mom finally whispers brokenly. “I can’t do it. It will literally destroy me, Logan.” Her eyes leave Bax to meet mine, with all the fire and pain of a mother who’s lost their child. “Do you know what they call a parent who’s lost their child?”

I shake my head, not trusting myself to say the right thing. It doesn’t matter that I’m a grown-ass man, I won’t be the reason that my mother cries another tear.

“Nothing. There’s no word for it.” Her voice comes out hoarse, devastated. “If I lost your father, I’d be a widow. If your father lost me, he’d be a widower. If we died, leaving our children, you’d be orphans. But the pain of losing a child is something that they haven’t even created a word for.” She lifts Bax’s hand to her mouth and kisses it, more tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’ve already had that title for fifteen years today. I’m not going to do it again. Do you hear me, Bax?”

“What?” The question leaves my lungs like a breath and not the word that has forced itself out.

Mom meets my eyes. “Lettie died fifteen years ago, today.”

A sharp pain wedges itself between my ribs. “It’s her birthday, and I forgot.” I drop to my knees, right there next to the hospital bed that holds my little brother, and cry.

I cry until the door opens and my father stands there with Dean at his side, my best friends standing behind them in the hall.

“Let’s go, boy,” Dad barks. “Gotta check the house with the other officers to see if she left anything behind that can be used.”

I get up, woodenly following the orders of the only man in my life who is capable of making me do exactly what he wants without trying.

I stop right next to him and meet his pain-filled eyes.

“Wait,” Mom commands.

We turn as a unit to face her.

“You’re not a cop today, Logan.” The matter-of-fact tone sends a shiver down my spine. “And if any one of you has a problem with that, you walk away and let Dean and Lucas handle it. Because if he doesn’t come back with a bullet between his eyes, I’m going to use a butcher knife and chop pieces off him until he dies from blood loss. And then I’m going to keep going until there’s nothing left. I don’t care if I spend the rest of my life in prison.” She looks back to Bax, brushing an imaginary strand of hair out of his face. Then her eyes meet mine again before sliding to my father and his best friend. “Do you understand? One child is enough, Lucas.”

Dad, even though his eyes are red from crying the same tears that I know my mother has, doesn’t say a word. All he does is nod, and that is that.

I follow suit.

“Don’t worry about Logan or Lucas.” Dean’s low voice breaks through the tension that my mother’s words brought down around the room. “Someone thought they could hurt my girl. Not only does she have your boys, but I’ve got an entire brotherhood at my back. He’s going to pay, Maria. And if it weren’t for you, he would have paid all those years ago, matching your loss.”

Mom looks away from Bax, her eyes brimming with tears. “I take it back. I don’t want him to live with what he did anymore. I want him to pay. I want him to bleed. Bring her home.” Just like that, my mother dismisses all of us.

No one says a word until we walk out of the hospital.

“Your mom scares me more than anyone I’ve ever met in my entire life,” Remy admits awkwardly while we are loading into the vehicles. “I thought Parker was scary. Or my mom. But yours, man. I swear I felt her soul leave her body with those words.”

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