Page 44 of My Cowboy Salvation
“Either of them? I don’t understand,” I say, trying to pretend I don’t know a second.
“I’m curious. Does your old boyfriend know that you’ve been fucking his dear old dad? Letting him touch you, debase you, even in as a public of a place as a concert?”
His voice has a hard, angry edge now. He was there that night, watching us both. And he wasn’t happy.
“Come on, Matthew,” Simon says, reaching down to grab the kid's hand. “We should get going. Your parents are probably wondering where you’ve wandered off to.” He turns to go, then pauses. “And Dylan? Don’t try to be a hero and tell anyone I’m here. I promise. You won’t like the consequences.”
I watch him and the young boy walk down the driveway. When he passes Bragdon, he nods and says something, the men interacting briefly before Simon continues down the street. When he’s gone, Bragdon looks in my direction.
Holding up my nearly empty bowl, I tip it toward him, showing how I’m out of candy. “Guess that’s it for me.”
He nods. “All right. Have a good night.”
“You too.”
I’m shaking as I shut the door behind me and reach over to flip off the porch light and the rest of the lights in the front of the house. But I don’t move from the door. I can’t move, and instead stand there, clutching the bowl, and try to process what just happened.
My panic is so suffocating, so overwhelming, that I’m struggling to force air into my lungs.
Come on, Dylan. Breathe. You’ve got to figure something out.
Parker. He might not know it, but he’s in danger. I feel for my phone in my back pocket and push Parker’s number. But like it has for the past few days, I go right to voicemail. I start to type in a message, asking him to call me, but stop.
Then what? Simon’s men are watching him. If I alert him he’s in danger, he’s bound to run, which will only bring Simon’s men down on him with possibly fatal results.
Every part of me wants to call Logan, to warn him about Simon’s presence. But even if he could arrive here in time and take Simon into custody, Parker will immediately pay the consequences. Maybe even that little boy.
I can’t risk it. I can’t risk harm to Parker, that boy, or, as Simon’s warning on leverage plays back, to Logan. Simon would do it. And he’d do it in a way no one could pin it on him.
There’s only one solution to this problem. I go with him. I keep those I care about—no, those I love—safe. Because I love Logan more than I’ve ever loved anyone, and the thought that he could be harmed, could lose his life, would be enough to permanently break me.
At least if I go with Simon, Logan and Parker will be safe. And that’s the only thing that matters.
Chapter 23
Logan
I pullonto my street around nine, careful to keep an eye out for the few stragglers, mostly teens, still out and about and hoping to score a little more candy before calling it a night. Parking in the driveway, I look up at the house. Other than the jack-a-lanterns still lit on the front porch, the house is draped in darkness.
She probably doesn’t want to talk to me, and I can’t blame her, even if forcing her to stay inside tonight was in her best interest.
Getting out of the car, I head over to greet my officer. “Anything to report?”
“No. She finished giving out candy around seven and went inside for the night.”
My blood goes cold. “Giving out candy?”
Something in my tone must warn my officer this wasn’t okay, because he immediately stiffens. “Um. Y-yeah,” he stutters. “For maybe an hour? But I waited at the bottom of the driveway the entire time. Anyone who headed to the house had to go past me first.”
Fuck. I can’t believe she would risk her safety like that, and I want to berate Bragdon, but that wouldn’t be fair to him. It wasn’t like Dylan was a prisoner. She has free will. He would have no reason to know I forbade her from doing so.
“I’m guessing you didn’t see anything out of the ordinary?” I ask, checking my temper.
“No, Chief. Just a bunch of kids and the occasional parent.”
I nod. “Thanks, Bragdon.”
Once I’m inside and the alarm is set, I’m tempted to head to her room and demand she explain what she was thinking, defying my order. But like I already considered with Bragdon, Dylan isn’t a prisoner. She’s here voluntarily, seeking my protection. Ultimately, she can decide for herself what risks to take. Not me.
