Logan (Carolina Reapers 4)

“You little—” Echo moved out of Sawyer’s arms, but a petite blonde stepped in front of her and faced Blaire.

“I’m so very sorry, but I don’t think we were ever properly introduced while you were dating Logan,” Persephone, the head of the Reaper Charitable Foundation, said in a sweet southern drawl.

“Oh,” Blaire perked up at the sight of the little blonde who pretty much ran society in Charleston. “I’m so sorry I was so rude to you when I saw you last. I was just so heartbroken over Logan, you understand. God, you have like… half a million followers.”

Persephone blinked, but that was the only hint that she was surprised. “Something like that, yes. Now, as I was saying—”

“Of course! I’m Blaire—”

“No, no,” Persephone interrupted with a smile, “I didn’t say we were going to be properly introduced, just that we weren’t during those unfortunate months that you used Logan, and then turned that viper tongue on my friends and me.”

Blaire’s jaw dropped.

“Now, you’re upsetting Echo, and we just can’t have that, seeing as she’s due any moment now. So we’d all appreciate it if you’d just turn right around and leave the same way you came in.” She motioned toward the door, never once letting her smile slip.

Blaire rapidly recovered. “I really think we’d be great friends. You know, we’re the same age, right? You’re twenty-three. Just graduated from Yale?”

“Well, isn’t it lovely that you know that. Now, I really do have to insist that you leave.”

“Wait! Can I at least get a picture with you?” Blaire moved toward Persephone only to find her path blocked by a very large, very unimpressed Cannon.

“Oh, for God’s sake. Move. I can fight my own battles, you know.” Persephone stepped around Cannon, shooting him a glare. It wasn’t exactly the first time Cannon had put himself between Persephone and Blaire.

“Go,” Annabelle, whispered in my ear. “Otherwise she’ll trap you in the parking lot. We’ve got this. Go.”

“I’m not running away from her,” I hissed.

“Do it for Echo. Blaire’s going to put her blood pressure through the roof.”

I nodded. If I left, Blaire would have no reason to stay.

With Blaire’s back to me, I made my way toward the door.

“No, you may not have a picture, and I’m really not above asking these boys to take out the trash,” Persephone’s voice followed me out of the bar.

I sucked in a breath of sweet, non-Blaire-air, and slid behind the wheel. It took exactly eighteen minutes to get to the library, park my car, and walk in the back door.

Maybe it was ludicrous that I’d come here instead of the gated safety of Reaper Village—the nicknamed neighborhood most of us lived in, but after seeing that cesspit of a woman, I’d found myself here.

The quiet immediately washed over me, taking some of the noise left in my head from Blaire’s intrusion.

It was almost half-past six, and the library was busy as I walked toward the circulation desk. There was a blonde behind the desk with a tag that read “volunteer” on her shirt.

“Hi, I was hoping you could tell me where Delaney is?” I asked softly.

She looked at me and then grinned. “Oh! She told me you’d be coming!”

“She did?” My brow bunched together.

“Absolutely! Follow me.” She nodded enthusiastically and motioned for me to follow, so I did.

We passed the doors that led to the southern wing. I really needed to see what I could do to help Delaney out with that. Then the volunteer led me up the stairs to the second floor, past the stacks Cannon had been looking through a couple of weeks ago and toward the corner, where a door stood open.

She snatched something off the table just before the door and pressed it into my hands. “Right. So they’re just through here. And this is the one that the moms chose. Have fun!”

“Moms?” I questioned as the girl strode into the room ahead of me.

I followed, glancing down at—why the fuck had she handed me a children’s book?

“He’s here!” the volunteer announced with excited hands.

A cheer resounded, and I found myself staring down at least a thousand small children, all seated on a brightly colored carpet. Okay, maybe there weren’t really a thousand of them, but there were easily a couple dozen.

All staring at me...and all I had to fend them off with was a book.

“You can sit right here!” The volunteer pointed to the only adult-sized chair in the room, which sat facing that army of small people. “Are you guys ready for story hour?”

The kids cheered.

Oh, fuck my life.

My ass hit the chair as I examined just how long the book was. Yep, that would be about an hour.

I was on the verge of protesting—reading aloud had never been my strong suit in school, but I looked up and saw a little girl toward the back with Down syndrome look up at me expectantly, and I couldn’t help but think of Kaitlynn. My little sister would smack me upside the back of the head if I walked out on these kids because I didn’t like reading aloud.