Page 6 of Wicked Devotion
“Then why am I still standing here?” Logan groans and shoves his hand in the pocket of Sam’s vest, fishing out his lighter.
“No smoking in the—“
Looking straight at Rockwell, Logan lights his cigarette, takes a few deep drags and ashes onto the floor of the cell block, grinning when the cigarette hangs from his mouth again.
“Sergeant Vaughn, you and the imp talk to Mrs. Holton.”
“What’s an imp?” Logan mumbles, but Rockwell is still talking and I’d rather not be the one explaining it to him, anyway.
“Keep him under control,” Rockwell says, directed at me. “Our intel doesn’t show any involvement on her part, so please try not to traumatize her.”
“Pathetic how it only takes a pretty girl for all of you to lose your backbone.”
“So you think she’s pretty,” I say with a grin so big it makes Logan flash Sam’s lighter right in front of my face.
“Careful, sunshine.”
“Maybe she is willing to give you guys some information we can use against her husband. It’s worth a try now that she’s here,” Rockwell interrupts Logan’s flirtations.
“Has he talked during the drive?” I ask.
“Not really,” Sam answers. “Started off all cocky and loud, but once we called Cantrell to report back, he shut down. Turned whiter the closer we got to base. Weird fella.”
Sam shrugs and turns around to follow our captain to Mr. Holton’s cell. Before they go in, Rockwell looks over his shoulder, nodding his head at Logan.
“Cabrera, play nice. This is an order.”
Logan gives him a thumbs up, but his face says ‘keep talking, I’m going to fuck shit up either way’.
I’m not exactly thrilled about having to keep him under control, because the leash that could hold Logan has yet to be invented.
“I need a shower. That house was nasty,” he says while he puts his cigarette out against the concrete wall. “Call me when she wakes up.”
Judging by the amount of tranquilizer he gave her, she’s going to be out cold for another hour or two.
“I could also use a shower,” I suggest, but Logan shuts me down immediately.
“You were so good at watching her, why stop now?”
Yeah, I should have seen that one coming.
“And Max,” he says, leaning closer to whisper in my ear, “don’t you fucking dare to go in there and talk to her on your own.” His voice is barely more than a low growl and the way he’s grabbing a fistful of my hair makes tingles shoot up my spine.
“You want to keep being my good boy, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” I mumble, and Logan rewards me by softly patting my cheek before he leaves. Well, at least I have enough time to get my boner under control.
The only thingkeeping me from falling asleep with my back against Mrs. Holton’s cell door is the interrogation taking place down the hallway. Judging by Rockwell’s tone of voice, Mr. Holton is anything but cooperative.
I’m drifting off again, but the sound of reluctant knocking against metal shakes me awake. For a fraction of a second, Icontemplate talking to her. Just to prepare her for what’s about to come.
Speaking of the devil, Logan enters the cell block. Wearing a fresh uniform, downing the rest of his energy drink before he crushes the empty can in his hand and holds it out to me.
The grin on his face is a tad too excited, given the situation.
He’s so fucking beautiful.
“Showtime, sunshine.”
