Page 12 of It Shouldn't Be You
“I did, and it was an experience for sure.”
“And Alex?”
“No, I met him on my travels after leaving at eighteen and then brought him back with me.” Interesting that he felt the need to bring that kind of back up with him when he claimed his seat at the top. Red flags are screaming at me from every angle but at the same time, Logan is like the calm in the storm. So steady and calm, like nothing can faze him.
“Isn’t this weird for you? Having a wife you don’t even know suddenly traipsing about your childhood home?”
“No stranger than suddenly being king here. And I plan to get to know you, Abigail. If you’ll let me.” His intense gaze and the proximity send a rush of heat through me.
Having someone so powerful like Logan giving you their undivided attention is a heady feeling.
I’m high on the fumes of his dominance and I never want to come down from it.
“I was under the impression you didn’t want to. After all, Ididgive you countless chances in the lead up to the wedding.”
“It was never about not wanting to and more about not being able to. Believe me, I’d much rather spend the time with you than deal with this mess.” He walks his hand along the railing until it’s beside mine, stretching out his pinkie to graze mine as he locks eyes with me.
Is it me or is it hot out here all of a sudden?
“Hmm, I still think you need to make it up to me, Viking. Just ’cause I’m your wife doesn’t mean it’ll be easy for you,” I tease him, flicking my hair, eliciting a chuckle from him.
It’s clear as day this attraction goes both ways, but what he wants from me isn’t so clear.
“I wouldn’t expect anything less. Which is why tonight I’m taking you to dinner. It’s about time we got to know one another.” He kisses my hand and walks away, leaving me in a haze of lust and nerves.
Chapter 9
Leaving Abigail in the capable hands of Smithy, and the less capable hands of Cole, I head up to the second floor to my home office. If I know Alex, he’ll be up there fuming, plotting ways to murder me for not filling him in on my plans sooner.
Bypassing the master bedroom—my father’s old room that I still haven’t cleared out, I make my way to the hall’s end, where the bass of heavy metal music greets me. Alex detests working in silence, and if it’s not Linkin Park or I Prevail blasting, then it’s me.
“About time you joined me,” Alex comments as I enter my office. He's lounging in my chair, casually tossing my rugby stress ball in the air. Rugby is how I met Alex. That sport introduced me to people I didn’t even know I needed until they came charging into my life at full throttle and wouldn’t be deterred by my sullen teenage self. Thank fuck for that. If Owen hadn’t intercepted my father’s men, I’d be dead. And if Alex hadn’t dragged me out of that place while I was damn nearcatatonic with shock, my father probably would have finished the job himself.
“Alright, you bastard, lay it on me,” I say as I sit across from him, bracing my elbows on my knees and meeting his gaze.
“What were you thinking, not telling me about the merger? You know I’m the last person to tell you what to do, but man, come on. This shit has serious repercussions that we could have been preparing for. Instead, you’ve let it blindside us. Give me one reason I shouldn’t lay into you.”
“Mum.” One words. Three letters. But it instantly changes the pressure in the air. His shoulders drop, and he sits forward. “What did that motherfucker do?”
If anyone gets how much it tears me up inside to know my father sold Mum off to some disgusting piece of human garbage, it’s Alex. He’s backed me every step of the way as I’ve tried to track down who bought her, where she ended up, and what happened to her. After all, he’s been doing the same thing for his sister and is unfortunately all too aware of what it feels like to be chasing dead ends and cold leads.
“That’s the thing. You know I’m at a dead end and I can’t fit the puzzle pieces together, no matter how hard I try. I’m missing something, and at this point, I’ve exhausted all the resources we have. I used my suspicions about Helen not actually dying in that hit and run to get Jonathan to agree to a merger. I’m sick and tired of not knowing what the fuck happened, Alex. And if going behind everyone’s backs to set up a merger gains me access to Brennan O’Malley and his IT skills? I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
His look of compassion grates on me. I hate it, even knowing it’s not pity.
“You should have told me, Lo. You know damn well I would have backed you from here to Toronto if that’s what it took. Now we’re going to have to face the firing squad together and win them over.” He sighs, standing and shrugging his leather jacket on.
Unfortunately, I know he’s right. As much as I’d like to just forge ahead and not answer to anyone here, that’s not how it works here.
The Clan used to be ruled by the Old Guard as a democracy until one day my father’s great grandfather challenged them each to a fight, fuelled by greed and a hunger to lead. He won by a landslide and since then the Clan has always been ruled by a Graham, with the Old Guard acting as advisors for the most part.
Which I completely disregarded, setting up the merger without their input. For that, they’ll want my head.
I can’t wait to see them try.
“This is the exact reason your father never thought you were fit to lead!” Snarls Samuel Blackwood from his seat on the opposite side of the table as me. Alex and Peter are seated on each side of me, trying to show a united front though the anger simmering off Peter may as well be a physical thing.
Adam Carson and James Dougherty sit either side of Samuel looking as pissed off as him and it’s all I can do not to roll my eyes. Instead, I kick back in my chair and observe the three of them. Each of them is around my father’s age - well on their way to being fifty if they aren't already- with slicked back hair and hands free of the blood mine are soaked in. They sit on their high horse thinking they can rip me a new one for taking action whenthey haven’t seen action in the bedroom never mind in the field for years.
