They stared at each other for several moments, the only sound came from the neighbour’s loud conversation clearly heard through the door before Bastien’s shoulders lowered, and his arms dropped to his sides.

  In an uncharacteristic show of nervousness, Bastien pulled the cuffs of his hoodie over his hands and asked, “Would you like a drink? I have…” He wandered to the tiny kitchen area, consisting of two base cupboards, a small fridge, a sink and a cooker. “I have milk? Or water?”

  Logan didn’t think the water from the taps would be the best choice, and with the few deductions he’d made while looking around the place, he knew Bastien would be better to keep the milk for himself. “No, I’m good, thanks.”

  Bastien sighed and leaned against the counter, once more crossing his arms over his chest, spearing Logan with his bright green gaze. “What can I help you with? I’m assuming you came to talk to me about last night?” He snorted. “You being a police officer should not have come as a surprise. Now that I think about it, you have that demeanour about you.”

  Moving a few steps closer, Logan pursed his lips. “Well, we didn’t really have much of a conversation before now.” He hesitated. “Deacon’s out already.”

  Bastien dropped his gaze, but Logan could see his breathing increase and the trembling that he was trying to fight against. Logan wanted nothing more than to close the distance and enfold the man in his arms, protecting him against anything that might try to hurt him. It was a similar feeling he had for his family, but that hadn’t gotten him anywhere. It was the reason he didn’t reach out, no matter how much he wanted to. Logan might be a police officer, but apparently, he was shit at protecting people.

  He called on his years of police work and managed to collect his thoughts. “I wanted to warn you. You need to be careful, especially if that Deacon guy is likely to follow through with his threat. Do you have someone you can stay with?”

  Bastien let out a small laugh, his hand covering his mouth. “Do you really think I’d be living here if I had someone I could stay with?” He whirled away from Logan, resting his hands on the counter and lowering his head.

  The pain constricting Logan’s chest weighed heavier than ever before. He could hear Bastien’s panicked breathing, even over the noise of the neighbour’s ranting. There was nothing in this place that would protect Bastien if that asshole came for him, and that scared Logan.

  “I’m sorry. If you want, you could—”

  Bastien twisted around to face Logan. “Do you know what? I’m good. I’ll sort it out myself. Thanks for letting me know.” He headed to the front door, then waited with his hand on the handle, raising his eyebrows at Logan. “Thank you. I’ll be fine from here.”

  Logan hated the idea of leaving the dancer in that place by himself with nothing or no one to protect him, but it was his choice at the end of the day. It didn’t matter how much Logan prodded; the man would push back. He had a feeling Bastien had been on his own for a lot longer than Logan originally thought, and that was both a blessing and a curse. It meant he wouldn’t accept any outside help, but it also meant he would have survival skills other people didn’t.

  Clenching his jaw, Logan stepped towards the front door, Bastien opening it when he was close enough to exit. Before he left, Logan whispered, “Please, please call Kade if you need anything. I know you probably don’t want to hear from me, but please call him if you need anything at all.”

  Bastien nodded once and pursed his lips, his body tense and rigid.

  Logan gazed at him for a second longer than he should’ve and left. The door closed firmly behind him. Resting a hand on the wall beside the apartment, he breathed deeply before lifting his head and resuming his trek back to his car. Luckily, it was still in one piece when he got to it.

  He would’ve preferred not to have to return to the station, but there was still plenty of work left to be done, and besides, he hadn’t told Ava he was leaving, and she was going to be pissed with him. Bracing himself for her anger, he headed back.

  As expected, Ava gave him the evil eye when he sat at his desk. Diverting her gaze to the papers in front of her, she ignored him. It was a similar trick Logan’s mother used on him to get him to tell her all his secrets, and it worked wonders—for both his mother and Ava.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, linking his fingers on top of his desk and sighing heavily. She didn’t say anything, and Logan’s mouth twitched with the need to smile. Although he knew what she was doing, he couldn’t help but succumb every time. He hated having her cross with him. “I know the victim in Kade’s case. I went to check he was doing okay.”

  “Why didn’t you tell Kade?”

  “I wasn’t sure it was him until I read the file. The man who had held him against his will has already been released. I wanted to tell him face to face.”

  Ava nodded slowly. “Next time, regardless of who or what it is, let me come with you. I was worried sick, Logan.” He studied her and saw the strain in her features. “I know I’m not a full detective yet, but I can still help.”

  “I know you can, Ava. It wasn’t about that. I just didn’t think.”

  “Well, think next time. Otherwise, I’m sending our mothers after you.”

  Logan winced. “Ouch! That’s harsh.”

  “Yeah, well, maybe you should’ve considered the punishment you’d get before doing it.”

  Grinning, he waggled his eyebrows. “Punishment? You’ve been talking with Trent and Max too much.” Ava’s face flushed as she spluttered a denial, and Logan took pity on her. “I will make sure I let you know what’s going on next time.”

  “Only because you know there will be a next time.” She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes.

  “Oh, definitely. You’ve been with me long enough, Detective Walker, to know that what I say is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”

  Ava snorted and shook her head, picking up a piece of paper from her desk. “Leave me in peace, Detective Taylor. I have work to do.”

  Logan screwed up a piece of paper and threw it at her, laughing when it hit her forehead. “We have work to do.”

  “Get to it then.” Ava threw the paper back, and Logan unfolded it, smoothing it out as much as he could when he realised it was something he needed.

  They worked together, going over the Trainor case with a fine toothcomb, trying to think of different aspects they may not have thought of before. Having found a couple of small areas they could re-check, they set them aside and focused on the other cases weighing down their desks. As Logan had said to Ava earlier, they had been working together for so long, they knew each other well. They knew how each other worked, and it was a good and bad thing sometimes.

  Having been able to distract himself enough that he barely thought about Bastien for the last few hours of his shift, he finally allowed the man to invade his thoughts once more. He tried to decide whether he should swing by The Bone Yard and see if Bastien was working or not. Bastien would be safer around a lot more people, but Logan wasn’t sure if he liked the idea. Shaking his head, he pointed his car towards his home.

  Three minutes later, he turned the car around and headed to the strip club. What was it about that slender, cocky, gorgeous dancer that made Logan lose all sense? He had no idea whether Bastien was even working that night. Pulling the car up in a parking space outside the building, Logan hesitated. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and stared at the line of customers waiting to enter the building. He could easily bypass them now—all he needed to do was state police business—but he didn’t want to bring attention to himself.

  Heaving a sigh, he pulled back out of the space and headed away from the place he wanted to be. What was he doing? There was nothing he could do to help Bastien, and if anything, he would make life more difficult for the man.

  Turning his thoughts to Casey, he felt his mood plummet. Casey had kept the sexual harassment quiet for over four months before it had come out, and the only reason Logan had found out was when someone had thrown a brick through Luke’s—his boyfriend and Ava’s brother—window. Other than that, he knew Casey would’ve kept it quiet to make sure it didn’t cause any problems with his family.

  When Logan had found out, he was furious. Not at Casey, although he was a little angry that Casey hadn’t told him, he was mad at himself for not realising Casey’s behaviour had changed and for not checking in with his brother. It had made Logan wary of making promises of protection when he knew he couldn’t guarantee it.

  Finding himself dawdling in his driveway, he switched off the engine and went inside the house. After a quick shower to wash off the day’s grime, he laid on his bed, the covers covering his lower half with his hand behind his head, staring at the ceiling. Sleep was a million miles away from Logan, but he didn’t get up. He went back over every little detail of Casey’s behaviour to try and find the little nuggets that should have clued him into something being wrong, and then when that was enough torture for him, he went through every interaction with Bastien to see what clues he could find there.

  Sitting upright, he realised something he should’ve seen earlier.

  Bastien had no one.

  ****

  Chapter 6

  Bastien

  “What can I do you for, B?” Rafferty asked from behind his desk, though his attention was still on the computer screen.

  “I wanted to ask if you had any more shifts I could pick up?” He tucked his hands into his pockets and clenched them tightly, not wanting to show exactly how screwed he was.

  Bastien hated asking for more work, especially from Rafferty, who already helped him out so much, but he had little choice. In the last week and a half, every single contact he had used in the past few years for makeup gigs had declined or just plain ignored his messages or calls. He knew it was Deacon’s doing, but it still rankled that they would choose Deacon over him, especially because they probably knew what he was like. Or maybe they were the same as Deacon, in which case, Bastien was probably better off not working with them.

  His rent was coming due at the end of the month, and so far, he didn’t have even close to the amount he needed to pay for it. Which was why he was there begging for more work.

  Trembling was a constant companion of his at the moment, and he hated the feeling of being unable to sit still and enjoy the moment. His jewellery design had suffered because he hadn’t been able to stay in one place long enough to complete something. The excessive energy that seemed to flow through his body was becoming tedious, as was the tightening in his chest and the increased heartbeat whenever he thought of his money situation.

  Rafferty switched his focus to Bastien, who tried not to squirm under the narrowed gaze. The silence was deafening, whereas usually, it was calming to be able to sit in the soundproofed office and not hear the music.

  “What’s happened?”

  Bastien cleared his throat. “There’s not much makeup work going around at the moment, and I need to make my rent money. That’s all.”

  He hoped he sounded honest enough, but he doubted Rafferty would buy it.

  “Sure. I was going to search for another dancer to cover for Reed’s extended absence, but if you want to take his sets for the next few weeks or however long you need, then that’s fine with me. Just don’t work yourself into a grave. I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

  Relief coursed through him, though he tried not to let it show. “Thanks, Boss. I appreciate it.”

  “Not a problem. But I will be mentioning it to the bouncers and bartenders, and if they see you looking less than stellar at any point, you will reduce back to your usual hours. You hear?”

  “Absolutely.” Bastien wasn’t a makeup genius for nothing; he could hide pale skin and a few bags under his eyes with some lovely foundation and concealer.

  Rafferty rummaged in the papers on his desk and found what he was looking for with an, “Ah-ha! Here’s Reed’s schedule.” He passed the paper to Bastien.

  Bastien checked through it and saw that even with adding Reed’s sets onto his, he still managed to have a night off. It just meant he’d be dancing for six out of seven nights instead of five and doing eight to ten sets a night instead of four or five. It was a lot of dancing, but he could do it. He would need to use some of his hard-earned money on some food, though, or his energy levels would suffer.

  “Perfect. Thanks again.”

  “You’re welcome. Keep healthy, B.” Rafferty raised his eyebrows and pointed a finger at Bastien.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Leaving the office, he closed the door behind him, giving himself a moment to breathe deeply. His whole life was now in the hands of the customers because his wages would not be enough to cover his rent, bills and food. The jewellery design would have to be pushed aside for the time being, and he would have to be conservative with everything he bought, but he could manage.

  A final breath escaped him, and he set his shoulders and descended the stairs. He could feel his legs trembling from the lack of food—he was down to having one packet of noodles or pasta a day to make it last. Hopefully, things would pick up, and he’d be back to the way things were before.

  ****

  Three weeks later, things were still the same. He’d managed to just scrape enough together for his rent and bills, but food was scarce, and he could tell he’d lost weight he couldn’t afford to lose. There was nothing he could do about it, though. He was back to being the scared little boy he had been when he had first been kicked out from his childhood home, and he didn’t like it one bit.

  Every time he felt himself go down that rabbit hole, it took more and more to climb his way back out again. He felt bad for Rafferty because Bastien had been able to hide everything from him so far, but he didn’t know how much longer he could.

  Gulping the cold water from the bottle he’d been given at the bar, Bastien rested his hand on the counter when a wave of dizziness swept over him. He focused on a spot on the floor and waited until his head stopped spinning before glancing up and breathing deeply.

  “You need to rest.”

  The voice, coming from directly behind him, made him jump, and he knocked over the second bottle that had been resting next to his hand as he spun around, almost losing his balance until warm, gentle hands stopped his momentum. Gripping the man’s arms, Bastien paused with his eyes closed before opening them and staring up at Logan.

  “When was the last time you ate, Bas—Black?” Logan asked, his hold firm but escapable.

  “I ate before I came to work,” he whispered. It was the truth. He made sure every meal he did have was before he had to dance; otherwise, he would have no energy at all.

  “And the time before that?” Bastien kept silent. “Hmm, I thought so. You’ve lost too much weight. You’ll be too thin to dance if you’re not careful. What’s going on? I thought you were going to ask Kade for help if you needed it.”

  Bastien pulled away, taking a step back. “I was going to ask him for help if I was in trouble. Not eating enough is not trouble; therefore, I do not need to speak to him.”

  Logan cocked his head and narrowed his gaze. “Semantics. You’ve been in here more than usual, according to the bartenders. What happened?”

  “Nothing has happened. You don’t need to check on me,” Bastien lowered his voice, glancing around to make sure they were not garnering any attention from those around them. When Nolan raised his eyebrows at him, he held out a hand to say he was fine. “I’m not getting as much work as I did before, so I’ve picked up a few extra sets here instead.”

  He didn’t know why he was explaining himself, but he couldn’t help it. The man seemed to be able to get him to spill his guts with just a look.

  “Will you give me a lap dance?”

  Bastien frowned. “What?”

  “I’d like to pay for a lap dance. How long until the end of your shift?”

  He glanced at the clock. “An hour.”

  “How much for an hour’s lap dance?”

  “Lap dances are usual like fifteen minutes maximum,” Bastien scoffed.

  “All right. Four times the price for the last hour of your shift. Done.”

  He had no idea what the detective was planning, but he nodded and leaned over the bar to tell Nolan what was happening. Nolan grinned and waggled his eyebrows, but he knew Bastien would never have sex with a customer. At least, not on the premises.

  Trailing towards the back room, they passed Cassidy, who curled his lip at Bastien before smiling serenely at Logan. Chancing a glance at Logan’s face, he found the man’s gaze on him rather than Cassidy. A small thrill went through him at the thought that he was Logan’s sole focus, not the asshole who made Bastien’s life a living hell.

  They entered the same room they’d used the first time, and Logan immediately dropped to the sofa. Bastien strode to the player.

  “Put something soft on,” Logan said, making Bastien pause in his movements.

  Bastien pursed his lips, then switched the channel to something else, and soft, flowing, relaxing music came through the speakers. Taking a deep breath, he began to sway his hips to the sounds, learning the beat before turning to the man who was paying for an hour of his time.

  Logan was positioned on one side of the sofa with his leg curled underneath him, his elbow resting on the back and his head resting in his palm.

  “Come sit down, Bastien,” Logan whispered.

  “What? I thought you wanted a dance?”

  “I wanted you to have time to rest and recuperate. If I have to pay for that to happen, I will.”

  Bastien stared at him, and he felt his walls begin to crumble. “I…I…”

  “You can.”

  He hesitated. He didn’t know what to do. Logan confused the hell out of him, and Bastien wasn’t used to it. The need to be in control and know what the plan was pushed at his insides, making him twitchy as hell, but the want that pulled him towards Logan was visceral. He had never felt it for any other man.