“Sure.”

The blaring music surrounding me faded to a dull rumble. I watched the bartender walk away and gaze indiscreetly back in my direction, looking uneasy.

Something happened.

My focus remained on him as he stepped out from behind the bar and walked up to a waitress. He dipped his head and whispered into her ear, throwing a cautious, sidelong glance my way and nudging his head toward the stairs in the corner, which I knew led to the hotel rooms.

My stomach dropped and heart sputtered. I shoved off from the counter and approached them, still huddled and whispering.

“Where is he?” I demanded, my gaze darting between them.

“I’m sorry, but he went upstairs a few minutes ago,” the waitress replied. “You just missed him.”

The explanation didn’t match the pity written all over her face. Logan kept a room up there, and if he’d been drinking all day, it would make sense that he’d stay there. It was better than driving drunk.

“Okay, so why all the whispers?” I asked.

The bartender sneaked away, not even looking my way in the process while the waitress twirled a dishrag in her hand. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. My pulse pounded, sweat beading at the nape of my neck.

“Just tell me.”

“He didn’t go up alone.”

As though someone had sounded a starting pistol, I was off before she said another word. I raced up the stairs two at a time, experiencing a case of déjà vu. I did this with Mark. If Logan was up there with another woman, I wouldn’t walk away without my own police record.

I didn’t even stop outside his door, busting it open to face the scene behind it.

Logan was lying flat on his back on the bed, his shirt missing but hanging around one arm, pants exactly where they should be: on his body. His eyes were closed, almost peacefully.

Natasha stood beside him, her skanky tube dress resting at her feet. Her cheap black lace panties were almost as repulsive as her fake tits.

She couldn’t act any better than she could shop for decent underwear, either. The amusement in her eyes spoke louder than the hand she placed strategically over her supposed-to-look-stunned mouth. She didn’t even bother to shield her breasts.

“Cassandra, I’m sorry. It just happened.”

Rolling my eyes at the obvious performance, I stormed over to the bed, yelling Logan’s name. He didn’t even flinch. He was out cold.

“I know this hurts right now, but Logan and I have so much history. You can’t be that surprised.”

Was she trying to sound sympathetic? Because it wasn’t working.

I lowered my ear to Logan’s chest. He was breathing. That was a good sign.

“I tried to tell him we should talk to you first—let him break things off before we started up again—but he didn’t want to wait. One thing led to another, and we just ended up here in bed together.”

Why was she still talking? She tilted her head to the side, watching me smooth back Logan’s tousled hair. The incessant urge to knock him around a bit was unbearable. How had he gotten himself into this mess? The man was in for it when he woke up, but I had someone else to deal with first.

I recaptured my senses, preparing myself for a long-awaited battle. I lifted my head slowly, piercing Natasha with a sharp stare, seeing through every tawdry façade she’d ever attempted to parade around.

“You should probably go,” she said, having the audacity to speak to me with determination—almost condescension—in her words.

Was she insane, or just stupid? I was ready to find out once and for all.

My laughter was harsh and menacingly brittle when I finally opened my mouth. “You’ve got some nerve.”

“We never meant for you to find us like this,” she tried to reason.

“Find you like this? Like what, exactly—about to rape my boyfriend?” I stepped around the bed, moving toward her.

“Are you blind? We just went two rounds in that bed.”

More laughter erupted from my throat. “Right, well, considering I was told he’s only been up here a few minutes, I call bullshit. Logan isn’t a minute man, and he prefers to sleep nude when he finishes.” I waved my hand over his fully clothed legs, then nudged my head to the shirt around his bicep. “What happened—his unconscious body too heavy to undress?”

“You can believe what you want, Cassandra. I know the truth.”

“The only truth I want right now is whether he passed out drunk or you drugged him.”

“I don’t need to drug a man to—”

“Obviously you do.”

I stepped closer until I was only a few feet away from her. It put her on edge; I could see that clearly. Good. You mess with a woman’s man, you should be very afraid of the consequences.

She snatched her dress from the floor, pulling it back over her hips and up to cover her breasts. Finally!

“You and Logan are through. You need to accept that,” she said, trying to sound reasonable.

I wanted to laugh, although I didn’t find it funny.

“No, we’re not. I know Logan. He wouldn’t do this to me.”

“You know nothing about him. I’m the mother of his child! You think just because he moved in next door to you and sweet-talked his way into your panties that he actually loves you? What a joke. You’re just a passing amusement.”

“Here’s the thing, Natasha: I couldn’t care less what you think about my connection with Logan. It doesn’t involve you, and you’ll never understand what he and I have. It wasn’t some love-at-first-sight, superficial romance. We built this relationship one strong, honest brick at a time, and nothing you do will destroy that.”

Her sneer deepened. “He’ll get bored of you.”

Serenely calm, I replied, “Maybe. But it doesn’t change the fact that I’m here now. You really think Logan would ever want you back after you abandoned him and your child? And let’s not forget about taking advantage of his kid brother, who had only pure intentions that you used against him.”

“Jax wanted me!” she exclaimed, looking surprised at my knowledge.

I shook my head, folding my arms across my chest. “You used him. And it worked out great for you too, huh? Jax is so ashamed of what he did, so terrified of Logan finding out, that he’ll do practically anything you want—well, almost, considering he confessed everything to me. I’m guessing you didn’t ask him to do that.

“Do you see what’s happening here, Natasha? Your desperate plans are falling apart all around you. Logan’s going to find out soon enough, and then what? What big scheme are you going to run next before Logan kicks you out of Oliver’s life for good?”

“Logan can’t do anything,” she barked, fury heavy in her tone. “He’ll be sitting in prison, and Oliver will be with me, away from all of you.”

I felt sick. “What did you do?”

“Nothing. I didn’t have to. Seems luck might be on my side for once. Kurt’s death was a happy coincidence.”

My arms dropped, hands balling into tense fists at my sides. “You won’t get custody of Oliver if Logan goes away.”

She looked smug, her grin too bright. “Then who will? You?” She chuckled darkly. “You’re not even family.”