Page 68 of All Bets are Off

“Over here!” I yell back.

The man struggles harder under the weight of my foot. “Let me go!”

“Why did you shoot at me?” Logan asks him.

“Fuck you, you sick bastard! I’m not scared of you. Guys like you think they’re so tough. Think they can smack a woman around. I warned you!” The man’s face is beet red with anger, and spittle runs down the side of his face, mingling with the dirt and gravel from the road.

Two patrols cars barrel up the hill and screech to a halt a few feet from us just as Hawk and Cara come running out the gate. We spend the next thirty minutes explaining to the officers what’s going on.

“You okay?” I ask Logan while they’re handcuffing the guy.

“I’m fine. He missed me by a mile.”

“What the hell was he ranting about?” I ask.

“Seems he thinks I’m somebody else.”

A few hours later, Logan and I sit at the dinner table relaying the story to Jase and the others.

“So, this guy thought you were your neighbor?” Jase clarifies. Looking at Logan.

“Evidently, he was having an affair with the lady who lives on the other side of the woods, and he thought I was her husband. He says the guy’s been beating her.”

“You do resemble our neighbor a little,” Kasey says, pouring another glass of wine.

“What about the note?” Jase asks.

Frowning, I ask, “What note?”

Jase looks at Logan, who turns to me with a sigh.

“There was a note left in the mailbox the day of my mother’s diagnosis. Jase showed it to me. I assumed it was Anna.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” I couldn’t believe he kept something like that from me.

“Like I said, I thought it was Anna. I wasn’t worried about it. And I didn’t want you going off the deep end again and following me everywhere I went.”

Jase clears his throat. “The guy admitted to writing the note and making the other attempt to kill Logan, who he thought was our neighbor in the woods.”

“Wait. So, he didn’t even know where she lived?” Hawk asks. “He didn’t know he had the wrong house the first time?”

“He only knew that her house was up this road,” Jase says. “Guess he didn’t see the other driveway going into the woods.”

“Logan almost got killed twice for something he had nothing to do with,” I say, feeling sick.

“But I didn’t, and I’m fine,” Logan says.

Reaching for his briefcase, Jase puts it on the table and opens it. “I’ve got a few cases I want to discuss.” Subject changed, it still takes some time for me to forget the sickly fear I felt when I thought Logan had been hurt.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Logan

Every muscle in my lower body hurts, and even some in my upper body. Yesterday, when we fooled around, West had me in every position known to man. I like to think I’m agile, but a contortionist I am not. And right after that, I had to sprint at top speed and tackle a guy on hard pavement. But right now, my aches and pains are the furthest thing from my mind. West’s been pissed with me ever since he found out about the note that I didn’t tell him about. We argued last night, and it took two hours of bickering this morning before we came to a truce. He made me promise never to keep something like that from him again, and I made him promise not to go overboard about my safety in the future. Now, we’re on our way up to my mother’s apartment to talk to her about our relationship.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” West asks me when we get off the elevator.

“I thought we agreed,” I say.

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