Chapter Twenty-SevenWhen I arrived home late that evening, I found Logan waiting for me. He was the last person I wanted to see.
He watched me approach, eyes guarded, posture rigid.
“Hello,” he said, his tone cautious.
“Hello.” I fished my keys from my pocket, unlocked the door and stepped inside. I didn't invite him in, but he followed anyway. I dropped the keys on the counter and began the process of preparing coffee, aware I hadn't eaten anything since yesterday evening, save for a doughnut at the airport early dawn today.
“I didn't know,” Logan said, breaking the heavy silence.
“You're his second-in-command, his enforcer,” I tossed his words back at him.
Logan clenched his jaw. “I swear I didn't know. We talked about it, yes, but I know you didn't do it, and blaming you means who
