Page 43 of Bloom: Part 1

Who…?

Of course. Logan sat sleeping up on the opposite side of the closet. Unlike me, he had no sheet covering him, no pillow to cushion him. Had he fallen asleep watching over me?

My heart pounded as I imagined what could have happened last night. I never remembered, which I always preferred. Who wanted to know what their possessed subconscious did when going through an episode? But I would have given anything toknow about last night. How bad had I been? Did he think I was crazy now?

Since we both ended up in the closet, it couldn’t have been a peaceful night.

I swiped a hand over my face. Today marked the first of November. I hadn’t expected it to hit so hard right away. I had milder months, but this didn’t seem as if it would be one.

At least I hadn’t wet myself. I flung the blanket off me to check. Relieved, I heaved a sigh. I should disappear and never see him again. He knew firsthand now that I was unlovable. Nobody loved a monster.

Breathing hard, I stared at him, my chest squeezing painfully. He’d brought me home to fix my leg. He’d scolded me to take better care of myself. He’d rearranged his closet to make me comfortable. I’d been right about him all along. He was a good man. The best man. The only man.

But now what? How could I face him, not knowing what I’d done while he had all the memories?

Resisting the urge to climb onto his lap and wrap myself around him, I slowly climbed to my knees and crawled out of the closet, then got to my feet by bracing my hand against the wall. My leg was throbbing. A quick check showed I hadn’t ripped the stitches in my mania last night, but the relief was short-lived. Dr. Collier’s bedroom was a disaster. So unlike him. Clothes were dumped on the bed, and his shoes were scattered on the floor.

One night. I’d spent one night with him and had turned his bedroom into a disaster. I stepped carefully over the objects and hobbled as fast as possible back to the guest room, where I should have been sleeping last night. How had I even made it into his bedroom?

I quickly used the bathroom and dressed. My clothes were crummy, especially with the dried blood on the pants, but I had no option. I snuck down the stairs and headed straight for thefront door. I punched in the code I’d seen Logan use last night and breathed a sigh of relief when I stepped outside.

This wasn’t how I’d imagined my first sexual encounter with Logan to end—me sneaking out of the house as if I were a thief because I was too much of a coward to look him in the eyes and see disgust or, worse, pity.

A cold misty wind brushed against my face, and I turned my collar up against it. I selected Winter’s number. The fucker owed me one. I crossed my fingers that he wasn’t shit-faced somewhere sleeping off a hangover.

“Hello.”

“Winter?” The voice sounded unfamiliar but not so distinct I could tell. Depending on what Winter was on, he could sound like anything. But the person drawled his speech, sounding as fucked up as Winter did when he was on some serious shit.

“Nah, man. It’s Poe.”

“Poe? Who the hell are you? Where’s Winter?”

“Don’t worry, man. I’ll send him back to you when I’m done with him.”

Motherfucker hung up on me. Gritting my teeth, I dialed Saint’s number. Crowe was the ideal person to call, but he would be up my ass about me hounding the doctor, and I didn’t want to deal with his shit. Not when I was in such a foul mood.

“Bloom, where the hell are you?” Saint demanded. “You didn’t sleep in your bed last night.”

“I’ll send you the address. Pick me up.”

“Where’s your ride?”

“Back at the clubhouse.”

“I don’t understand. What the hell’s going on?”

“Just pick me up. We might have to bail Winter out of whatever shit he’s in too.”

“On my way. Send your location.”

I hung up the phone. Of all my brothers, Winter got on my nerves the most. He was messy, and his drug addiction made everything rough. When he was sober, he was a decent guy, but we’d had to bail him out of countless messes when he was too coked up to protect himself. Crowe worried about him. Hell, I worried about him. Winter might be a gigantic pain in the ass, but he’d helped save me.

Gritting my teeth, I scaled the gate and slipped out onto the sidewalk. My stitches were still intact. Thank fuck. I limped away from Dr. Collier’s house as fast as my throbbing leg would allow. I kept my head down, not wanting to draw attention to myself. In a neighborhood like this, I would be lucky not to get picked up by the cops.

Would Logan be pissed that I hadn’t said good-bye? Maybe he’d be relieved. Fuck. Fuck him! I clamped my lips together to prevent the scream that was scratching the insides of my throat from being let out.

He made me feel insecure all over again—vulnerable—but what scared me the most was the way I craved being with him still. Like I’d been waiting all my life for him. Someone I was comfortable being myself with. Someone other than the brothers who accepted me for who I was. Other people feared me, scorned me, or pitied me.

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