Page 53 of Bloom: Part 2

“Fine?” The word slipped out as I crossed the room. “What happened?”

Jamie, unfazed by the tension rolling off me, finished tying off the bandage. “I’m still working here, Logan. He had a minor incident, but he’ll be fine once he gets some rest.”

“I’ll decide if he’s fine,” I said, my voice clipped. For once, I found no humor in Jamie’s meddling in our relationship. “Did this happen because of the car?”

“No, I—”

“Think carefully whether you want to continue that lie.”

Bloom glanced around at the bikers, who hung around in awkward silence. He set his jaw in a defiant line. “You can’t talk to me like that. I’m the enforcer. I do what’s best in the club’s interest. Someone stole your car, so I got it back.”

“Are you telling me that piece of junk is worth your life?” I didn’t know whether to rage or weep at his recklessness. I was so scared for him and the extent he went to for me. The bloody gauze on the table was stark, horrifying proof I might not be able to keep him safe. “Is it that you want me to value a car more than you?”

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. How could I stay angry at him? He looked like he was in so much pain. And all for a stupid car. What if my life was threatened again? Did he think I could live with myself if he put himself between me and a bullet?

“Swear on my life, Doc, he was the perfect angel,” Gunner said. “We didn’t go looking for trouble. Neither of us thought the bastard would ram his enormous self into Bloom.” He nodded to a bloodied hammer leaning against the wall. “Broke his kneecaps for you. He won’t be walking anytime soon. If ever again.”

Did he think that made up for everything? Taking a million lives would not have brought Bloom back if he had died today. They didn’t understand that. Retaliation could only help so much, but it would never bring back what was destroyed.

Without thinking, I walked over to the hammer and picked it up, the solid weight of it grounding me, steadying the tremor in my hands.

“Logan! I know you’re upset,” Jamie cried. “Just stop to think a minute before you do anything stupid. He is going to be okay.”

This time.

But what about the next time? And the next?

I walked out the door and headed for the car. That expensive piece of crap that could have cost me Bloom’s life. I’d been so proud when I’d purchased it. A top-of-the-line brand that any car aficionado would appreciate. Worthless junk.

Behind me, I heard Bloom’s voice, shaky, desperate. “Logan… what are you doing?”

I didn’t answer. My thoughts were a blur, a fury so cold it felt like ice in my veins. I stopped next to the car, lifted the hammer, and brought it down with all my strength. The hammer connected with the windshield, a deafening crack sounding as glass shattered, spidering out in jagged lines. It was the sound of all my anger, all my frustration, splintering into a thousand pieces.

Why was the car so damn important to him that he hadn’t been able to let it go? Did he think I gave a fuck about him being an enforcer? That he was a Blood Hound? For fuck’s sake, the only thing that mattered was that he was mine.

Mine to keep safe.

Didn’t he know that my life would be nothing without him?

“Logan, stop!” Bloom’s voice broke behind me, thick with desperation. “Please! I’m sorry.”

But I didn’t stop. His “sorry” was too reactive. If he’d really considered my feelings, he wouldn’t have gone after the car thief in the first place. I swung the hammer again, smashing through the passenger-side window, the shards scattering like broken promises across the pavement. Like his broken promises to me.

My chest heaved, each swing a release, an outlet for the rage that had been building since I’d seen him sitting there, hurt, fragile. A rage that had been simmering under the surface for over a decade. Rage at my family for forcing me into a corner, pushing me to survive by becoming the one thing they despised—an informant.

One by one, bikers spilled out onto the porch, watching the insanity I’d inherited—the volatile rage I could no longer run from—consume me.

They stood frozen, stunned, the shock in their eyes matching the weight pressing against my ribs. None of them had ever seen me like this before. Not calm, cool, collected Dr. Collier.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

I hadn’t heard Crowe come into the yard, but his deep voice penetrated my haze. I stilled, panting heavily, the hammer hanging limply by my side. Sweat trickled down my temple, and my heart pounded like a drum in my ears. The car was nearly unrecognizable now.

Shit.

I let the hammer slide from my hand to the ground, the anger draining out of me. That rage… More than a dozen times, I must have watched my father unleash his fury on people who disappointed him in the past. My brother laughing as he pummeled some unconscious man into the concrete. All this time I’d thought I was better than them. That I was different.

But I’d just found my muse who could make me snap. Found out my trigger that could just as easily make me the monster my family had wanted me to be. All because of Bloom.

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