Page 6 of Logan
Honestly, the biggest one was getting rid of the tradition of road names. Some of my uncles have the stupidest goddamn names, and I wasn’t carrying that on. Let the old-timers keep that shit.
Fingernails scrape down my arm, pulling me out of my thoughts. I look over and see Darcy standing there, her bleach-blond hair pin-straight, falling just past her barely covered fake tits.
“Hey, handsome. To what do I owe this surprise?” Her voice is sweetened for effect, but it grates on me.
I look away, hating how desperate she is. “Not a surprise for you, just coming in to check on things.”
Her nails keep stroking my arm, unfazed by my flat tone. “Well, either way, I’m happy to see you. Want to go to one of the private rooms?”
Jesus. I hate being an asshole, but this kind of thing brings it out in me. “Why don’t you go throw yourself at someone who’ll at least give you money and enjoy it.” I stare at the glass in my hand, hoping she takes the hint and walks away.
Her hand stills, and for a second, she lingers there before finally leaving without a word.
I catch Shaina looking at me. “Sure, you don’t want a drink?”
I don’t even answer.
“You know, brother, I used to think you were in a bad mood. But it’s lasted so long, I’ve finally accepted you’re just an asshole of a person.” She laughs and walks off. Everyone’s a fucking comedian.
The door to the club swings open, and everything around me grinds to a halt.
Mackenzie is standing in the doorway, framed by the fading daylight spilling in from outside. She looks like a lost little puppy, her big eyes scanning the room hesitant, and unsure. When they land on me, I see it: the sharp inhale, the flicker of something that’s equal parts recognition and impact.
Every inch of me feels like it’s being pulled in a million directions.
Hank, our security guard, approaches her. She says something to him, and when he walks past me, I grab his arm. “What’s she here for?”
“Says she’s here to see Allison about the bartending job.” Hank shrugs and moves to walk off.
“Stay. I’ll go get her.” My voice is flat, but my pulse is pounding. I get up, forcing myself not to look back at her. Evenafter all these years, the sight of her wrecks me in ways I can’t explain.
Once I get to the office, I open the door and see Allison sitting at her mom’s old desk.
“You know there’s this thing called knocking, right? It helps.” Allison glares, but I couldn’t care less.
“The girl here for the job, you aren’t going to hire her.” My tone leaves no room for debate. There’s no way in hell she’s going to become a fixture in any part of my life.
Allison stands, her glare sharpening. “Excuse me? I’ll do whatever the fuck I want to. This isn’t the club, Logan. You don’t run shit here.”
She reminds me so much of my Aunt Tracy it’s uncanny the same fire, the same refusal to listen to anyone. The same way I grew up in my dad’s shadow, Allison is every bit her mom.
I step closer. “You don’t understand. I’m not fucking around here, Allison. This is not a damn game. She doesn’t get the fucking job. Period.”
I turn and walk out before my temper burns hotter. I need to get on my bike, ride until the wind cuts through the chaos in my head.
I make sure to leave from the back door, avoiding any chance of crossing paths with her again.
I never imagined Mackenzie Bersell would walk back into my life.
And I sure as hell can’t handle it.
Chapter Three
Mackenzie
And now you don't feel the same
I remember you would shiver every time I said your name
