Logan (Wild Boys After Dark, #1)(6)

“Like hell you are.” Logan didn’t have time to soften his tone before the words escaped. “Heath will be here any minute.”

“I’m fine, and you’re not my father, for God’s sake. You saved me, but you don’t own me.”

Touché. “It’s not about owning you. It’s about what you’ve been through.”

“I’m fine.”

“Whoa, guys.” Dylan stretched his hands out between them. “Let’s not argue about this. He’s right. You can’t go back to work after something like that, and, Logan…” He lifted his thick dark brows. “Dude, I’m the boss around here, not you.”

Logan scoffed, then steadied his gaze on Dylan. “She needs to report this to the police.”

“No. No police.” She turned away and mumbled, “Jesus…”

Logan’s investigative mind sprang to attention. She wasn’t giving away a damn thing, but he intended to find out what she was running from. Logan was good at biding his time. He had a bigger fish to catch before making her even more uncomfortable by pressing her for more information. Besides, he could dig up as much information on her as he wanted to when the time was right.

Ten minutes later Heath arrived. Logan left the room so his brother could examine Stormy in private. He was breathing fire, searching the bar until his eyes landed on the group that was there for the bachelor party. His chest burned with renewed anger. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he pushed his way through the crowd. He placed one hand tightly on the bachelor’s shoulder, and before he guided him away from the others, he leaned in close enough that the guy would hear him but no one else could.

“You’re coming with me, and if you say a f*cking word, I will make sure you never make it to that wedding.” The drunken bachelor opened his mouth, then closed it. Logan led him to the service hallway in the back of the bar, grabbed him by the collar, and slammed him against the wall.

“Hey, man. I didn’t do anything.” The guy held up his hands.

Logan would feel bad for him if he weren’t seething too much to feel. “There was a guy with you. Tall, blond, married. He’s gone, wore a black button-down shirt and jeans. Who is he?”

The guy blinked several times, his face scrunched up in confusion. “Mike?”

Logan tightened his grip, heard the material tear, and spoke through gritted teeth. “Last name. Place of work. Now.”

“He…Mike Winters. Why? I barely know the guy. Met him at work. He’s new.” His eyes darted down the hall.

“Where’s work?” After getting the name of the financial firm where Mike worked, Logan released the guy’s shirt and smoothed it down, then leaned in close again. “He attacked a friend of mine. I suggest you stay away from him and be more choosy with your friends.” Logan stalked back to the office.

He knocked on the door. “It’s Logan. Is it okay for me to come in?” He didn’t want to walk in if Heath was still examining Stormy.

“Yes,” Heath said through the door.

At thirty-four, Heath was the oldest of the Wild brothers, followed by Logan, Jackson, and Cooper. It seemed their parents were on the one-child-every-two-years plan. They were a close bunch. A random home burglary and attack on their parents that killed their father and blinded their mother had brought them even closer together in recent years. As Heath glanced up at Logan with a look of concern, Logan pushed thoughts of his parents aside. He couldn’t think about that right now.

He watched Heath cleaning the cuts on the back of Stormy’s head. His dress shirt was open at the collar, sleeves rolled up. Heath had the hallmark Wild chiseled features and blue eyes that earned them all more women than they could wish for. And though as teenagers their rebellious behavior had earned more focus from teachers than they could avoid, the Wild boys had grown to be well-respected businessmen.

Heath glanced at Logan, pressed his lips together, and arched a brow, giving Logan the How’d you get into this mess look.

He didn’t bother to shoot him back his icy, shut up and fix her stare. He was thankful Heath was there, proving once again that they lived up to their father’s creed. When family calls, you answer.

“Okay, I think you’ll live.” Heath removed his rubber gloves, and Stormy blew out a breath.

“Thank you for coming. I told your brother I was fine, but—”

Heath laughed as he packed his medical supplies in his leather bag. “You must not know Logan very well. He did the right thing by having you get checked out. That’s quite a laceration and bump you have on the back of your head, and those scrapes on your back are already starting to bruise.”

She looked from Logan to Heath. “I can handle a few bruises. What do I owe you?”

Logan noticed her wince as she rose from the chair and reached for her purse. He set a gentle hand on hers and shook his head. “We’ve got this.”

“No charge,” Heath said. “Any friend of Logan’s is a—”

“Patient of yours?” She smirked.

Heath picked up his medical bag and laughed. “Sometimes, yes. Really, this is nothing. It’s good to see my brother, and I’m glad you’re okay. Ice the knot on your head, twenty minutes every hour, and, Logan, watch her for any signs of concussion. You’ve had enough of them to know what to look for.”