Page 77 of Bound in Blood
God, he hated himself for evenhoping.For thinking that because of some concoction of divine intervention and immortality, this time it wasn’t temporary. That the loving ache in his chest would precede something other thanabandonment.Just this once.
Matedoesn’t meanexception,he reminded himself bitterly.
Logan sniffled and dragged a hand down his face as he pretended to watch whatever Vik was doing with Alexei’s drink. He wasn’t stupid, he knew a distraction when he saw one. Hiseyesburned,but no more tears would fall. Maybe that was for the best. He was so fucking tired of crying.
He could feel Marco and Alexei looking up at him every few seconds, but neither man spoke to him. They were wrapped in their own conversation. One Logan didn’t want or care to eavesdrop on. If Mateo left, Marco would follow. Logan was the outsider here, not them.
Vik handed Logan the drink he’d just finished, prompting for him to taste it. Logan wasn’t a drinker. It’s why he’d accepted Vik’s offer of the bartender job, so he wouldn’t spend money at work. But he took a drink anyway, pretending to taste it, before shaking his head. “I think you’re better off just giving him straight liquor. Alexei isn’t a fan of the sweet stuff.”
His voice came out steadier than he’d expected it to, which was good, he supposed. It would make the inevitable easier. When Marco told him it’s notLogan,it’sthem.How they could stay friends, or whatever. He wondered how that would work with the mate-bond. If it would allow them to justbe friends.He didn’t feel up to asking anyone.
Vik hummed and slid the drink away, but didn’t press. Just gave Logan a quiet pat on the shoulder, steady and warm, and turned back to restock the bar.
The sound of the rain had faded to little more than a whisper, a mist tapping faintly against the windows. It was late. Logan wasn’t sure how much time had passed since Mateo had left. An hour? More?
He turned slightly toward the sound of Marco’s voice, but it was just low murmuring. Whatever they were saying, they didn’t want Logan to hear it.
Fine. He didn’t need to.
He was used to being the outsider. To being the one who cared too much, wanted too much, said too much. He could handle it. He always had.
He just had hoped he wouldn’t have to anymore.
The back door creaked open.
Logan’s body reacted before his mind could catch up, because of course it did. His spine went rigid, his heart tripping up under his chest. Logan’s body had never been hurt by Mateo. Just his heart. He wondered when the two would fall back into sync.
Behind him, he heard the slow footsteps. Water dripping onto the floor. Wet shoes squeaking to a stop at the threshold that separated the bar from the back room.
Then: “Logan?”
His name, soft and unsteady. Logan didn’t have to look to know who it was.
But he looked anyway.
Mateo stood in the doorway, soaked to the bone, hair plastered to his forehead, his expression unreadable. He looked like shit. He also looked like he didn’t know whether to step closer or bolt.
Logan blinked at him, feeling a little bit confused. Mateo’s emotions were apologetic, but not in anI-never-want-to-see-you-againway. More like anI-was-wrongkind of way. Logan wasn’t sure what to make of it.
“I was an idiot,” Mateo said, like there was no room for argument. “Because I was so hung up on my personal shit that I forgot I had the ability to hurt you.”
Logan blinked again, not trusting what he’d heard. His fingers curled around the counter in front of him, just to ground himself.
He didn’t say anything. Not yet. He needed to know where Mateo was going with all of this first.
Mateo took one tentative step closer. His soaked clothes squelched faintly with the motion. “I shouldn’t have said any of that,” he added. “Not to anyone, but especially not to you. I wasangry, and I took it out on you, and it’s not your job to carry my grief just because you’re—” he faltered. “Because you’re kind.”
Logan looked up at him, willing himself not to cry again. Hoping that when he spoke, it would be as steady as when he had talked to Vik a moment ago. “I can’t be your verbal punching bag just because we disagree. That’s not fair.”
Mateo flinched, but didn’t argue. “I spent a lot of time angry before we first met. And then we did meet. And you turned, and suddenly this beautiful, kind, caring person that I thought I’d maybe get for one night wasmine.”Mateo shook his head. “I thought I had been given some sort of reward for working through my shit. But then, the shit comes back. And the first thing I do is lash out on the two people I care about the most.”
Logan swallowed hard. He could feel Marco’s eyes on them now, but he didn’t look. Couldn’t. This wasn’t about Marco. This was about him.
“I’m not your reward,” Logan said softly. “I’m not a trophy for getting better. I’m a person. I have limits. You don’t get to love meonlywhen you’re healed.”
Mateo’s breath caught. He didn’t argue. Didn’t flinch. He just stood there, rain-slick and silent, like he knew that was the truest thing Logan could’ve said.
“You’re right,” Mateo murmured. “You’re not a reward. Or some divine exactly-what-I-needed twist of fate. You’re… my soulmate. Mine and Marco’s equal. And I dismissed and diminished your feelings like your opinion meant less than mine.”
