Deadly Sins (23 page)

“I don’t believe that.” She couldn’t let herself believe it. “I know a lot of people are still wary of pissing off the barons, but their ranches aren’t the main source of income any longer. The county is growing, and it’s growing with people who aren’t as dependent on the Corbins, Raffertys, or Robertses any longer.”

“Doesn’t matter, Skye,” Logan told her cynically. “But that kid is going to be a problem. A problem I’ll take care of if he gets in your damn face again.”

Logan couldn’t believe the sudden, overwhelming rage that had nearly taken him over as he’d seen that kid in her face, heard him call her a Callahan whore.

Logan wasn’t having it.

The fine citizens of Corbin County had treated the Callahans like trash since their parents had died, but before that they’d fucking known better.

“How much longer do you have here?” He nodded to the room, all the while ignoring the little girl tugging at the knee of his jeans.

“Hour and a half.” Skye’s lips twitched as she reached out and petted Bella’s happy face as he stared down at the little girl. “Ignoring her isn’t going to work any more than ignoring Bella did.”

Logan frowned at her.

He was right.

When Skye and that damned pup had stood before him that first night looking so fucking hopeful, he’d known it.

First the dog, then a woman, and now a kid.

Kids didn’t belong in a Callahan’s life; their parents had proven that. The parents had died and then the kids were left with very little to protect them.

“We need to talk,” he told Skye as Bella tried to jump out of his arms again to get to the kid.

“Yes, we do,” Skye agreed, then glanced at the child again.

She was staring up at the puppy as though she were a very special gift just for her.

“My daddy is ’lergic,” the little girl whispered up at Skye, her big brown eyes as bright as new pennies as she watched Bella. “Can I jus’ look at him better?”

Skye lifted her gaze to Logan. “She just wants to see her better,” she whispered.

He just wanted to run for cover. “It’s a kid,” he growled, then watched as Skye gave a little exasperated roll of her eyes.

“And Bella is just a puppy. Puppies and kids go together, Logan. Don’t you know that?”

She was ready to laugh at him. He could see it in her eyes.

She was going to start laughing at him and then he was going to end up kissing her again.

Son of a bitch.

“Jus’ for a minute?” the little girl asked in a whisper that would have melted stone.

Then he made the mistake of looking down at the child.

Just as he’d made the mistake of kissing Skye that first time.

Big brown eyes. Puppy dog eyes. They matched Bella’s.

The kid was all but jumping up and down in excitement as he bent to her and let her pet the pup.

Her little hands were trembling like a leaf in a storm from excitement. Little chubby hands that petted the dog as though she were glass that could break at any minute.

Hell.

Hell
because Logan could almost see Skye with such a precious, precocious little girl. She’d have Skye’s dark hair and his shade of green—

Oh hell now.

He cleared his throat as he rose slowly. “Time for me to go.”

He had to ignore the little girl’s disappointed gaze, but he felt like the lowest bastard in the world when tears filled her eyes.

It was time to get the hell out of Dodge was what it was time for. Time to get away from the kids who could break a man’s heart with their love for a puppy and a woman who stared at Logan with stars, puppy dogs, and kids in her eyes.

Skye’s laughter was soft, knowing, as he rubbed at the back of his neck, then turned and left.

Yeah, they had to talk.

They had to straighten a hell of a lot out.

He had to get her the hell out of Corbin County, but he had a feeling that wasn’t going to happen.

Moving from the community center, Logan made his way to a sheltered spot at the side of the building where he let Bella down in the grass and, keeping a firm hold on her leash, let her sniff and play for a few minutes.

And he watched. He watched the darkness and the fine people of Corbin County as they milled around the town square, chatted, and laughed.

He’d never really been a part of the socials. He’d rarely attended them once he was old enough to tell Rafe’s uncle he wanted nothing to do with them.

First Logan had gone off by himself; then Crowe and Rafer had followed. They weren’t accepted there, even as kids, not really. And other than the summer Rafer had been Jaymi Flannigan’s lover, they hadn’t attended the socials as adults either.

Logan had a feeling he would be attending more often now, though. Especially after that little punk had dared to call Skye a whore.

Oh, Logan knew Johnny Ridgemore, just as he knew Johnny’s parents and his uncle. The Ridgemores had once been friends of Logan’s parents, Sam and Mina. Chloe Ridgemore and Mina Rafferty had been so close that Chloe had slipped away and stood up for Mina when she eloped with Sam Callahan.

Within a year, Chloe had deserted her friend. Within two years, Chloe wouldn’t even talk to Mina when she saw her on the street.

In the weeks before Logan’s parents had been killed, he remembered Chloe slipping over to the house on Rafferty Lane, though. And he remembered his mother’s tears after Chloe left.

There were pieces to the puzzle that he was only now remembering. Little things brought those hidden memories back.

Little things like Amelia Sorenson just before Cami was attacked leaving her a note that said they had to talk.

That note had caused Cami to leave the basement of her house unlocked so Amelia could slip in as she had done when they were children.

But it hadn’t been Amelia who had slipped in. It had been a killer. The man they had believed was the Sweetrock Slasher.

But, just as with Thomas Jones, Lowry Berry was nothing more than a plant, Logan believed.

Rubbing at the back of his neck again, he stared around the shadowed night, his gaze narrow, his senses on red alert.

Crowe had felt the same sensation, that warning tingle that someone was watching and that someone was filled with pure malicious intent.

An intent Logan intended to do something about.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

At least he didn’t completely leave, Skye consoled herself nearly four hours later when the next volunteer finally arrived. As Skye stepped from the community center, it was to find Logan and Bella waiting for her.

He was leaning against the porch support, looking entirely too lickable and entirely too dominantly male.

There was something about him that was different as he stood there, staring out at the crowd with the tiny pug curled at his feet, her head on the foot of his sneaker as she slept.

He was definitely attracting some attention. More than a few of the attendees were watching him. Some with animosity; others, the feminine group, well, it wasn’t animosity in their eyes, that was for sure.

That flare of jealousy snapping inside Skye had her lips tightening as he picked the sleeping pup up and began walking with her.

“Anything you wanted to do before we leave?” he asked as Skye paused beside him.

“Not tonight.” She shook her head.

“Sounds good.”

He didn’t ask for a reason or an explanation, which surprised her. Most men she’d known in the past would have pouted like a ten-year-old because she refused to say what she was doing. The point would be that she wasn’t doing what they expected, therefore, something was wrong.

Cradling Bella in the crook of one arm, he placed the palm of the other between Skye’s shoulders.

“This way,” he murmured, directing her away from the park to the next street rather than going straight through the square.

Crossing the street to the next, he then headed up the back alley.

For the moment, that tingle at the back of her neck eased away. Whoever was watching, following, had lost sight of them.

“You feel it too,” she said softly. “The eyes watching.”

“The sign of a natural soldier,” he murmured. “You’re accomplished as well. You’re not the only one over the months who was tracking a neighbor. You lost me several times.”

The times she had been en route to the doctor in Denver.

Her lips twitched. “That was you when I made the trips to Denver.”

He cut through a private yard and used the cement walk that passed between homes.

“Wayne Sorenson came into the Center a while after you left,” she told him as they kept mostly to the darker parts of the sidewalk. “He apologized for Johnny and promised something would be done to punish him.”

“Yeah, that’s what he told me, too.” There wasn’t a lot of belief in his tone.

She shoved her hands in her pockets as they crossed one of the deserted streets.

“You don’t seem confident he will.”

“Sorenson usually says what’s on his mind and means what he says,” he stated. “His sister is another matter, though, and she flat dotes on Johnny. She’d never allow him to be punished for striking out at a Callahan or a woman suspected to be tied to them.”

“Don’t you ever want more than this, Logan?” Her heart broke when she thought of the lives they’d lived, as well as the lonely, desolate lives they were trying to live now.

Their lovers were killed as soon as a monster could find them. And Marietta had proven, unlike in the past, one-night stands were no longer safe. “Who wouldn’t want more, Skye? It’s not like we woke up one day and decided we wanted to be targeted by the murdering bastard.” Laying his hand on the small of her back, he led her quickly through a narrow street that led to the next block.

“I know,” she said softly, easing a little closer to him as they cut into the next alley, then, rather than proceeding to the next block, turned instead into the back street and walked along the darker edge of the rough road.

Moving his hand to her hip, he pulled her closer against his side, causing tears to prick at her eyes.

She wanted to be closer to him. Wanted to feel as though the fury he’d directed at her when he’d learned who she was wouldn’t permanently sever the fragile bonds she’d felt building between them.

As they reached the end of the back street, Logan turned again, led her to the corner, across the street, then up another alley.

She wasn’t certain how she felt about all these shadowed, dark alleys, but the tingles and the roiling in her stomach she sometimes got when she headed for danger were absent.

“Why do you even stay here?” she finally asked. “Is the inheritance so important for you that you would die for it?”

At first, she thought he wouldn’t answer her.

“While I was in the military, I tried to convince myself I didn’t miss this place,” Logan said as the darkness of yet another back street enclosed them. “We haven’t had a moment’s peace in this place, Skye, but for some reason, it’s home.”

“Even though both Callahan and your mothers’ sides of the families have disowned you?” And it was the truth. For over twenty years they’d been ignored and persecuted by family members from all branches of their family trees.

“Hell, it’s a small town,” he sighed. “The barons control their livelihoods, the food they put on their tables, and the peace they gain in their lives. They haven’t had a choice but to follow their examples.”

That wasn’t a good enough excuse for her.

“I saw several people coming up to speak to you while you were waiting for me outside. You should have spit in their faces.”

That’s what she would have loved to see, but a part of her knew she wouldn’t have done it herself, and neither would he.

He did give a brief chuckle though there was little amusement in it.

“They’re just being nosy and trying to figure out if we really are killers or innocent bastards. Though we were innocent orphans when our parents died, and they didn’t give a shit then either.”

How very sad, and how very true.

“I would have stood beside you, Logan,” she said then, the pain of the knowledge of the life he had lived slicing at her heart. “I wouldn’t have turned my back on you.”

“Yeah, I know.” His hand moved from her hip to wrap around her shoulders and tugged her even closer. “And that’s what terrifies me, Skye. I know you would.” Silence filled the night once again, until he led her through another back street. This one’s street sign was missing where she’d noticed no others were.

“What’s the name of this street?” she asked.

She’d meant to assuage that bit of curiosity months ago, but had forgotten.

“Callahan.” A world of mockery filled his tone. “They took the sign down when our parents died.”

“None of this makes sense.” She shook her head. “Weren’t the families all close once?”

“The four founding fathers of the county were raised together from birth. John Corbin the first, Jason Rafferty, Andrew Roberts and James Randal ‘Jr’ Callahan the first. They were the same as brothers. They had saved each other’s lives, killed for each other. The story goes that the bond between them was unshakable. They should have been running the country.” The low grunt of laughter was amused and yet bitter. “If only their sons, grandsons, and so forth could have known that bond. Or at least the decency the four of them showed.”

“So all of this began six generations ago?” she probed.

“Pretty much.” He nodded. “They transferred their families, their ranches, and in a matter of months Sweetrock and Corbin County were begun. Very quietly, but very quickly.”

“They had a dream then?”

“Yeah, I guess they did.” Another alley, another yard, then he and Skye cut over until they were walking along the mountain’s base behind Rafferty Lane and using the trees for cover. “That dream sustained them. Our fathers told us stories that their father told them, that his father told him. Callahans were horse breeders, but the need for quarter horses faded away, leaving the farm. By the fourth generation Callahans were on the verge of losing it all. Eileen and James Randal’s boys were in the Army, unable to help them. That was when Eileen made a decision that changed all their lives. She and friends of hers created an elaborate plot to allow them to buy her blond-haired blue-eyed son for an exorbitant amount. It was enough to save the ranch from being taken and to pay the hospital bills for her husband. Then they set about ensuring they could rub the noses of the other families in the fact that they were unable to destroy them. They’d refused to help, even while her husband was dying because she couldn’t afford the medical costs. She hated them, and once they were forced to lose their newborn, her husband hated his side with the same ferocity.”