Page 57 of Bloom: Part 1

BLOOM

The sobbing man I’d forced into the trunk of his car earlier clung to Logan, who’d freed him from the cramped space and cut the zip ties around his ankles and hands loose. I gritted my teeth at the too-close contact.

One.

Two.

Three.

I cracked my knuckles.

Logan pushed the man away from him and held him by the shoulders at a distance when he tried to get closer again.

“Nicholas, get a hold of yourself.”

“He-he locked me in the car trunk! I’ve never been treated like this.” He clutched his chest—dramatic much. “Oh god, I thought he was going to kill me.”

If he faints, Logan better not catch him.

“It might still happen if you don’t stop grabbing the doc like that. He won’t be able to save you.”

Nicholas paled and dropped the hand that had been clutching Logan’s shirt. I smirked, ignoring Logan’s scowl. Much better.

“Bloom, not helping.”

I shrugged. Did I have stupid stamped on my forehead? I didn’t plan to help this guy into Logan’s arms. It was only fair I warned him I didn’t take kindly to him getting too close to my man. I was being considerate. What I really wanted to do was stuff him back into the trunk. And light a match.

“Where’s your phone?” Nicholas asked. “He broke mine. I need to call the police.”

“No, no police.” Logan jerked his head to the right. “It was just a misunderstanding, right, Bloom?”

“Misunderstanding?” Nicholas gawked, his lips opening and closing. A choked sound escaped his throat as he stared at Logan in disbelief. He reminded me of the summer Crowe had taken me fishing when I was around sixteen, and we had caught a fish with big, bulging eyes. It’d looked so pathetic, flopping around, that I’d tossed it back into the water.

If this Nicholas were a fish, I’d have left him on the dock.

“Look, this hasn’t been a pleasant experience, but—”

“Of course it’s not. Your little psycho boyfriend—eek!”

He jumped at the blade I brandished under his nose. “Let him finish speaking.”

“Bloom!”

“What?” I glared. “If I’d interrupted you, you would have called me rude. What’s so special about him that you don’t scold him?”

Did Logan like him after all?

“He’s nothing special. I’m just trying to defuse the situation, and you’re not helping. Go stand by your bike.”

I planted my feet firmly on the ground. “I ain’t going anywhere, leaving you two alone.”

“You’ll be able to see us.” I didn’t budge. Logan’s eyes narrowed to slits, and his jaw hardened. “Go stand next to your bike, Bloom.”

The soft authority in his tone was enough to raise the hairs at my nape. How was this fair? He didn’t have to shout, didn’t have to threaten me. His quiet words were always like strings to my puppet. I had to do whatever he wanted. “If you let him touch you again, don’t blame me for what I might do next.”

I stalked over to my motorcycle, hating every step I took away from him. Leaning against the cool body of the bike, I crossed my arms. The two fired words at each other I couldn’t hear, no matter how much I cocked my ears. Where was the wind when I needed it?

Nicholas’s hand twitched, and I gritted my teeth. As the outstretched hand inched closer to Logan again, years of training kicked in. Every moment I’d familiarized myself with the weight and balance of my knife, every target I’d practiced on, all of it condensed into a singular point of focus. My muscles tensed, ready.

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