Page 58 of Bloom: Part 1

Without a second thought, I drew my arm back and snapped it forward, releasing the knife. The weapon cut through the air, a whistle of deadly intent aimed not to harm but to warn. The blade spun, a blur of motion perfectly aligned with the gap between Nicholas’s outstretched hand and Logan.

The knife found its mark, not in flesh but in the ground a few feet away from them. The sound of impact was sharp, a distinct thud as the knife embedded shallowly, the handle vibrating slightly from the force before coming to a rest.

Nicholas stopped his hand midair, mere inches from Logan, his eyes darting to the knife sticking out of the ground. Slowly, oh-so slowly he retracted his hand.

He rushed to open his car door, trembling, and cast one last look at Logan and me, his eyes wide with fear. I relished it. Within seconds, tires screeched against the gravel, and dust clouded the air as Nicholas hastily backed out of the parking lot.The car disappeared into the distance, leaving the echo of its engine behind.

Good riddance.

I picked up my knife, meeting Logan’s eyes. His lips were pinched in a stern line.

“Now don’t start with me. I warned him.”

“What if you’d stabbed him?”

I laughed as I examined my blade for any defects, but it seemed solid. “Why? Do you care about him?”

“Not the way you’re thinking, but as a human, yes.”

“You’re wasting your concern over people who don’t matter.” I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Can we go home now? Wearegoing home, right?”

Logan rubbed his nose against mine, making me smile. He wasn’t too mad at me, then.

“Yes. I was trying to talk Nicholas out of reporting you to the police. You just ruined that.”

“He won’t talk.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because he’s too scared.”

“For your sake, let’s hope so.”

I tilted my head back. “If I went to prison, would you visit me?”

“No,” he said without missing a beat.

Scowling, I smacked him in the chest and stepped back. “Why the fuck not? I’d be digging a tunnel to get you out.”

“I wouldn’t do anything to go to prison in the first place. If you want to be with me so badly, stay out of prison.”

“You say it like I’m the only one who wants this relationship,” I grumbled. When he said nothing, my chest rose and fell. “Well?”

“What?”

“Didn’t you hear me? Am I the only one who wants this relationship?”

Logan grinned and walked toward his car. “Are you following me home, or what?”

Damn him! He pulled out of the parking lot without me. I hurried to my motorcycle and hopped on. With a roar, the engine came to life beneath me. I ripped out of the lot, tires squealing. The wind whipped against my skin as I closed the distance between us, ducking low to gain more speed.

Despite his nonchalant demeanor, Logan never once veered too far away from me. We stopped side by side at a red light, and Logan rolled his window down. He shouted something that got drowned out by the loud exhaust of a motorcycle that came to a screeching halt on my other side. Fuck, the other bike was a modern beast. Even as a sworn Harley rider, I could appreciate the sleek design and raw power of the Ducati.

The rider raised his visor and gave me a once-over, his eyes lingering a bit too long for my liking. He threw me a smug grin. “Nice ride,” he called. Did he mean me or the bike? “Wanna race?”

The fuck was up with this idiot?

Over the roar of the engine, Logan was shouting at me. “Why aren’t you—”

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