Chapter 19

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Unedited.

"... Find out what happened that night, Carlos. I want the names and addresses of who this is. I want to know if they have any family—who their friends are—I want to know where they work and what they like for breakfast. I want to know everything."

There was a short pause, and then a confident reply: "Yes, Sir. Do you want me to take care of it when I do?"

Logan's jaw tightened. With a whispered tone he answered coldly: "No. That won't be necessary... I will take care of it."

Even after the call ended, Logan stood by the door of his bedroom, his piercing gaze never leaving Nathan, who slept under the covers, seemingly carrying a weight over his shoulder.

Nathan had been this way for the past week since he arrived in front of Logan's front door, knocking like a frightened man with tears in his eyes and body soaking wet from the rain. Logan was no fool, he knew something was wrong. Something had happened to Nathan that night, something the older man wouldn't tell him—refused to tell him because of sheer stubbornness! The thought of Nathan keeping things from him again left a bitter taste on his tongue, and he found himself fuming with madness every time it crossed his mind.

Logan shoved the phone into his pocket before stepping into the room on careful steps so as not to wake Nathan. He couldn't help noticing how thinner Nathan had gotten in less than a week; his cheeks had hollowed, and under his eyes had gotten darker. He stopped and stood next to Nathan—hovered above him—and he gritted his teeth to the point of pain as he stroked the older man's hollowed cheek with his thumb. "Why won't you tell me who hurt you?" He asked the sleeping man.

A faint purplish bruise had blossomed on the back of Nathan's left shoulder since that night; he must've not noticed or thought Logan wouldn't because of his dark complexion, so he didn't hide it from Logan's view. Logan noticed everything, though—even the faint bruises that colored Nathan's right knuckles. Had he hit someone? Something? Logan took the older man's hand and kissed where the bruises were. Part of him wanted to shake the stubborn man awake and demand he tell him what happened, another part was more rational, more tamed. Since that night Nathan had been less hesitant to be near him. He had spent more time with Logan without complaints and slept over at Logan's home last night of his own free will. Even though they only cuddled in bed and talked about nothing of importance, it was a step forward.

A moment later Nathan's weary eyes fluttered open and to Logan's surprise, a faint smile appeared on the older man's face at the sight of him. It caused Logan's heartbeat to escalate to the point of pain and it warmed his cheeks pink. "Did you sleep well?" He asked.

"Hm," Nathan hummed with a faint smile on his face. It was not real, though.

Logan couldn't help himself when he licked his lower lip as he brushed his thumb on Nathan's—pliant and oblivious—lip. It had been years, but the older man still looked cute and fuckable in his waking state. But Logan wasn't a bastard—at least not to a certain extent, so he ripped his thumb away as though Nathan's skin burned him.

Logan cleared his throat before he took a step back. "I want to take you out to dinner tonight," he said.

Nathan frowned and instantly sat up. "Why?"

Because I hate seeing you like this, he wanted to say. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders and answered, "I don't know. I just want to eat out, is that an issue?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"No, you don't."

If there was disappointment and hurt in Nathan's eyes, he tried his best not to show it.

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