Fifty Seven.

Lana’s POV

My brother was dead. I was the one being accused. Logan didn’t even come and see if I was okay.

Kicking the bedpost was a mistake. I practically snapped my little toe just as Logan lets me know that he needs to run some errands or something.

He still wasn’t even bothering to come and check on me.

When he hears me grumble, he starts questioning me. Asking me if I wanted him to come. He shouldn’t have to ask, he should have just known. Maybe he believed Freya, maybe he thought I was the one who had killed Sam and now he was keeping his distance.

Through the window, I could see him. He was making his way towards the gates. For a moment, I wanted to go out there, but everyone hated me now. Everyone was blaming me for Sam’s death.

A few minutes later, I see Logan walking back towards the packhouse. He wasn’t alone. A big man stood next to him. His dark hair cut into a mohawk. He was littered in piercings too. Giant ones in his ears that stretched them out. As they moved closer