Crackled with the connection.
He smiled at me. Soft and slow and knowing as he stepped over Jarek like he was trash.
My dark defender.
My soul’s destination.
My North Star.
TWENTY-EIGHT
LOGAN
Aster threadedher fingers through mine.
At her touch, warmth spread over my flesh and sank all the way to the marrow, thawing the freezing cold that had hardened my heart to stone.
All it’d taken was coming around the corner and finding Jarek’s hands on her for my spirit to slip into depravity.
To sink into a hollow darkness where there was no conscience or remorse.
No mercy.
No grace.
But it was far from detached.
It’d felt like the loss and the hope and every regret I possessed had boiled down to that single point.
I wanted revenge.
I wanted retribution.
I wanted to set her free.
Her limbs shook harder and harder as I led her out of the alleyway and back onto the sidewalk. I could physically feel the adrenaline draining from her body and shock sweeping in to take its place.
My teeth ground with restraint as I pulled her away from that piece of shit.
I had to focus on holding onto her so I wouldn’t turn around and finish a job that should have been finished years ago.
Aggression seethed just below the surface of my skin, ripping and clawing for a way out, while this girl soothed it with only her touch.
Her breaths were shallow and hard, though her tongue seemed to be tied with a thousand things she wanted to say.
Once we got to O’Malley’s door, I frantically turned her around, tipped up her chin, and searched her gorgeous face.
The panic I’d managed to contain in the alley spilled out. “Are you okay? He hit you. That bastard hit you.”
Her head shook with the shock. “I’m not hurt. I’m fine. I’m fine.”
I inhaled a desperate breath and pressed my forehead to hers. “I want to—”
Aster curled her hands in my jacket. “Just take me home, Logan. Just take me home.”
Home.
I reached up and touched her face. “Okay, baby, I’ll take you home.”