Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 50840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Chapter Six
Logan
"What the fuck do you mean, he asked you if Lauren is in an insane asylum?" I growl, pacing in circles around Alice's office. "What the fuck kind of question is that?"
"I don't know," she says, her tone calm. "I blew him off, but we're not going to be able to blow him off forever, Logan. Montaque is like a dog with a bone when he wants something."
"He isn't getting it." I whirl on her, fury pumping through me. "Lauren isn't a goddamn story."
"I know." Alice holds up her hands in a placating gesture. "I'm not suggesting that she is. Of course I'm not. I'm just warning you that Montaque isn't going to quit unless you give him incentive."
I know she's right, even though I hate to fucking admit it. He ruins careers like it's lightwork and then sits back and enjoys the show. He'll have absolutely zero qualms about dragging Lauren's entire life story out for public consumption just because he can. The prick gets off on dropping bombs and watching the chaos that unfolds in the aftermath.
Christ, this is going to break her heart. Right now, that's the last thing she needs. We'll never convince her to trust herself with Lachlan if she's looking over her shoulder, feeling like the paparazzi and press are following her everywhere and judging every little thing she does. That'll only feed the paranoia that comes along with her illness.
"How the fuck did he even find out about her history?"
"I don't know. I couldn't very well ask him without confirming…"
I grit my teeth, so pissed I want to hit something. Preferably Montaque's face. Repeatedly. "How the hell am I supposed to tell her that the world's biggest asshole is sniffing around? And that he, apparently, knows enough about her to know she's been committed?"
"I'm sorry, Logan," Alice says softly. "We can try to find a different story to wave in front of him."
"Yeah." I scrub my hands down my face. Isn't that what I always do? Throw something else in front of them until they stop looking? I've made a career out of being a dog and pony show, just to manipulate the story and keep them focused where I want. But Montaque? I'm not sure the same old tricks are going to work with him. He's seen them from me too damn many times, and he's too fucking smart to fall for it.
Every time something happens with Lauren, I get in a fight. I let myself be photographed with some girl whose name I don't even know. I fuck up and do something big, just so people look left instead of right. He's seen that song and dance my whole career. And he's smart enough to know there's a reason I do it.
That's not the only problem, either. If I try to pull that bullshit now…well, any chance I had with Peyton is long gone. I promised her that I'm not the asshole she thinks I am. Acting like that guy will only reinforce everything she thinks she knows about me.
I can't do that. Christ, I don't want to do it.
There has to be a better way…one that doesn't mean ripping open still healing wounds for my sister or watching her become some goddamn story. One that doesn't cost me the sassy little minx consuming every thought in my mind.
"I've gotta go," I mutter. "I need to think."
Alice shoots me a sympathetic smile. "Do you want me to cancel Peyton's interview?"
"Shit." I glance at the clock and realize it's already almost ten. She'll be here any minute. "No. Don't cancel." Right now, she's precisely who I need to see. Actually, that's a lie. I don't merely need to see her. I need her in my arms. I need her air in my lungs. I need that smart-ass mouth and take-no-prisoners attitude of hers.
Maybe she can make sense out of my life because I sure as hell can't.
Alice rises from her desk, grabbing a file from the top.
"Mind if I take this one alone?"
She stares at me levelly for a long moment and then sighs, holding out Peyton's file. "Do not have sex with her in the conference room, Logan. I mean it."
"Don't plan on it," I growl, grabbing the file. There are cameras all over this arena. No one is seeing my girl naked and riding my cock except me. I might fuck her in a supply closet, though. As soon as she decides to forgive me for doing what the fuck I had to do to get her in my bed, anyway.
If she's waiting for me to regret that, it'll never happen.
I duck from Alice's office, striding toward the conference room. Halfway there, our new shrink, Emilia Lariat, pops around the corner, nearly plowing into me.
"Christ on a cracker," she yelps, glaring at me with exasperation written all over her face. "They should put a bell on you."