Page 42 of Winter's End

The evening crowd hadn’t come in yet, just a few stragglers getting comfortable as the band set up their stage for the night’s show. I was lost in the monotony of my routine when two figures walked past the entrance to the lounge and caught my eye.

I had a sixth sense for Georgio these days; every time he came into my periphery, the hair on the back of my neck stood on end, putting my primitive protection instincts on high alert. Thankfully, I didn’t see him often, and he never appeared to be paying me any more attention than usual. It was a false sense of security—there was no question we were all most definitely under his watchful eye.

I tried to be subtle as I turned to face him more fully, playing my part with Kellan to see if I could catch anything Georgio was saying.

Nothing in this lifetime could have prepared me for the sight of my brother chatting with the mob boss as if they were old friends.

I must have frozen in place in my shock, because when Devon looked up, he caught my eye and a wide smile filled his face.

He waved me over. Shuffling forward, I was helpless to pretend I hadn’t been watching them. A knot of dread formed in my belly at the thought of my naïve baby brother entering a wolf den full of ravenous predators—one predator in particular.

“Hi, Travis!” Devon pulled me into an enthusiastic hug and his smile grew as his gaze traveled between me and the man who was the biggest threat to us all. “I’ve just spent the afternoon getting to know our uncle! You’ve been holding out on me.”

The debilitating feeling of dread barreled through me. I dug deep for the courage to hold Georgio’s knowing gaze as Devon continued to chatter on.

Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck.

I’d been made.

CHAPTER 12

WINTER

You’ll be fine, Winter. It’s just an asshole you sometimes fantasize about. No big deal.

My pep talk wasn’t working, but I’d be a complete liar if I said my heart was completely in it.

Sitting outside Logan’s condo, I was mentally preparing for my first ‘panic-attack’ training session. I wasn’t prepared to spend the afternoon digging into my inner demons, but I was woman enough to admit I could benefit from some help.

That, and I was beyond curious. By now, I’d deduced Logan had been beaten as a child, the culprit his sorry excuse for a father. Hillary hadn’t said as much, but she’d more than alluded that Stanley wasn’t a good man, in more ways than one.

I imagined the beatings Logan had taken were brutal, if his scarring was any indication. Were they the source of his own panic attacks? Regardless of my nervousness and outright fear of how one actually mastered their panic, I needed to know how he’d done it.

Not only were they exhausting, I was tired of my body betraying me at every turn. I wasn’t weak-willed, or a weak person, so I was determined my reflexes wouldn’t take control anymore.

That was the hope, anyway. Logan and I hadn’t spent any time alone together … ever, if you didn’t count that one date in high school, and I’d also be a big fat liar if I didn’t say that alone was putting me on edge.

I’d told the guys our little ‘interaction’ in the jail cell was a onetime deal, but I was becoming more and more drawn to the asshole. It now seemed like far more than a possibility that the man had some redeemable qualities.

That he’d had the consideration to come to me and tell me about his meeting with Carson, and actually caring about the effect it might have on me, told me more than I had expected to know; his declared feelings for me might be legitimate after all.

Not to mention the tender kiss he’d given me before he’d gone back to the lounge had left me with school-girl shivers; there was something about a man who was only soft for you that was hard to ignore.

Or maybe I was just crazy. It was too soon to tell.

I pulled up my big-girl panties and left Basil in the parking lot as I made my way to the condo entrance.

The front doors buzzed open before I even had the chance to press the call button. I groaned internally at the thought Logan had been watching for me. Had he seen my twenty-minute internal struggle as I stayed put in my car, too?

I didn’t enjoy going into this lesson without the upper hand.

He swung open his door for me as soon as I stepped off the elevator. The man probably had cameras all over the building—he owned it, after all.

He probably watched Cam and I from his throne in his castle, tugging on himself as he enjoyed the show.

Despite the anxious energy coursing through my veins, that visual brought a smile to my lips. And a slight charge in my lower belly.

“What’s funny?” His face held none of its usual arrogance; the open display of curiosity made him look … kind. It was off-putting.

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