Page 67 of Bound By Thorns
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We woke up an hour later, refreshed from our brief nap. After showering and dressing for the day, Kaylan and I made our way to the lounge. Our entrance together no longer turned heads; it had become the norm, and I was quietly pleased about that.
At lunch, the usual buzz of conversation was notably subdued; the air was tense, and it was clear that Squad 6 was still reeling from the recent upheavals.
“Cheer up, Squad Six, we’ve got new job offers,” I quipped, trying to lighten the mood. “I expect an employment agreement in my email within two hours, Bastian.”
“Wouldn’t forget it, Logan,” he replied with a grin, raising his wine glass in my direction as a nod of affirmation.
“When did you guys become friends?” Zarek interjected, looking between Sebastian and me with genuine curiosity.
“We were brothers first,” I shrugged.
The reaction to my joke was muted, but the mention of our past relationship as brothers caught everyone’s attention.
“What the fuck?” Kabir muttered, his eyes wide.
“Logan and I were foster brothers,” Bastian elaborated, picking up where I left off. “We had some… differences, but we resolved them recently.”
Dylan chimed in with a laugh. “I thought I was your oldest friend, Seb.”
Sebastian laughed and clinked his glass against Dylan’s.
Zane cleared his throat, drawing the room’s focus. “As the only person who didn’t go to sleep after Alpha Squad’s dissolution, I have some news.”
“What is it?” Bastian leaned forward, his interest piqued.
“Eh… nothing big,” Zane said with a coy stifled laugh. “Garret’s in Chicago, that’s all.”
He dropped the news casually, but it landed like a bomb. We all erupted with laughter, then bombarded him with follow-up questions. It turned out Garret wasn’t fully committed to mansion life after all. He had rented out top four floors in a newly constructed skyscraper in Chicago and was operating from there.
Energized by the news, we began planning our next steps to take down Garret fucking Tyson. And I knew he was mine to end.
TWENTY-NINE
Kaylan
I stared at the empty space beside me in the bed. Logan wasn’t here this morning, and the absence made my heart sink. I had grown too accustomed to his presence, even though we’d only shared two peaceful nights. It felt irrational and petulant, but the truth was, I didn’t want to wake up without him anymore.
Trauma bond.
I shook away the thought as I climbed out of bed and headed to the shower. Barely two minutes had passed under the hot spray when a knock sounded at the bathroom door, causing me to freeze.
“It’s me,” came Logan’s muffled voice from the other side. “Can I come in for a second?”
I glanced at myself, scanning my body in the fogged mirror. I didn’t want him to see me like this, vulnerable and exposed. I didn’t want him expecting anything. A wave of dread washed over me—why would he want to come in while he knew I was in the shower unless he expected something from me? But then another thought broke through: this was Logan. He hadn’t even kissed me without asking until just a few days ago.
“Yes,” I managed to say, my voice shaky.
He entered, his eyes immediately finding mine. He was shirtless and my anxiety rose. Then, he smiled—a soft, reassuring smile that briefly transformed into somethingdeeper, something like hunger. There we were, only a wall of glass separating us.
He walked towards the shower door, opened it slightly, and that’s when I saw he was carrying something. It was a bottle. “It’s a shower gel, hypoallergenic. It’ll be good for the… wound,” he said hesitantly, his gaze locked on mine. His eyes could have wandered, given my exposed state, but they didn’t.
I took the bottle from him and smiled. After he left, I swapped out my current shower gel for the one he gave me and showered. It was such a touching gesture, I couldn’t help but keep smiling.
When I stepped back into the room, my towel wrapped around me, he was there. Shirtless, just as before. Memories of that day at Ravenrock flashed through my mind—when I had openly ogled him. His smirk now was different, softer, appreciative rather than calculative as it had been before.
My eyes drifted to the small bandage where I had stabbed him, and my expression darkened. I swallowed hard, looking away as tears threatened. I had hurt him, and he thought he deserved it. Closing the distance between us, he gently lifted my chin, his soft smile meeting my troubled gaze.
