Logan Kade (Fallen Crest #5.5) (31 page)

Not at all.

THE LETTER

TAYLOR

“What do you think is in those letters?”

Claire hadn’t shut up since we’d gotten in her car. Normally, I didn’t mind her chatter. I liked it even. It had helped while I’d been on the too-quiet side this past year, but tonight—with a headache forming and a feeling I already knew what lay ahead—she was too much for me. I rubbed at my temples.

“Okay.” Claire pulled her car over and leaned forward, craning her neck to see the park we told his roommate to meet us at. “We’re here. Do you see him?”

It was empty, but it was a small park in a good part of town. It was only a few blocks in length, and it was surrounded by homes. We were safe. I was sure of it. I shook my head. “I don’t, but he’ll come. He’ll bring the letters.”

“Good.” She glanced over and confessed, “Because I didn’t know how to get to Jason’s apartment building. I was hoping you knew.”

“You didn’t?” That surprised me.

“No.” She looked down to her lap, fiddling with her keys. “Jason and I, we…uh…we kinda faded once we graduated. I never came over here, and I think he moved this summer, too. So this could be his second place. I’m not sure.”

Jason had mentioned their “fade,” but Claire never had until now. For some reason, it hurt me to hear about it. “You guys put on a brave face for me then?”

She looked up, her eyes searching mine. “Yeah. Kinda. I mean, we
are
friends, but we just weren’t close. You were the closest to both of us. I just don’t think you realized it.”

“When did that happen? I mean, I thought you two were good.”

She shrugged, turning to look out the window again. “It always was a little difficult. It got worse later in high school when…” Her voice trailed off.

I finished for her. “When you started dating student council members, and Jason started dating...guys?” I closed my eyes. My heart sank. “Why didn’t I notice?”

“Because you loved us both,” Claire said. “And because we hid it from you.”

“But—” I shook my head. It made sense. The guys Claire dated weren’t the nicest to Jason, and I knew others had been even worse—like the guys who were friends with Eric. Only Eric had been decent to him. “I should’ve paid attention.”

“You were loved by everyone. Even the bullies usually left him alone. No one wanted to piss you off.”

“Why?” I opened my eyes.

“Because…” She shrugged. “People like you, Taylor. I don’t think you notice how much. You’ve been off since last year, but it’s still there. Logan Mr. Sex Machine Kade is interested in you.” She rolled her eyes as she said his name. “He’s let everyone know you two are together.”

I had to laugh at that. “There’s no one else breaking down my door.”

“Stop it. He likes you—like, really likes you. That’s not something to dismiss.”

“I know. I just don’t understand it. I don’t understand why me.”

“Because you’re Taylor,” Claire said. “What more reason do you need?”

I tried to smile, but her words had punched through a wall, and a whole host of emotions streamed through. I reached over and grabbed her hand. “Thank you, Claire.” I had to whisper. My throat wasn’t fully functioning.

Her hand squeezed back and held on. “You have no idea, but you’ve been there more times for me than you think.” A tear slid down her cheek, and her voice turned hoarse, too.

“Look at us.” I lifted our hands. “Holding hands. Both crying.”

She laughed, flicking her tears away.

“And we’re going in there to read some letters from Jason,” I added.

She grew quiet before she asked, “You think he left, don’t you?”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I was still hoping it wasn’t true.

Just then a pair of headlights was visible as a car neared the park, pausing at an intersection. It turned right and went the entire way around the park. “Look.” I pointed to it.

“I see.”

We both watched as the car was moving slow, until it passed us. It paused and we saw a guy press his forehead to his window, trying to see us. I relaxed. The guy didn’t look scary or thug-like. I was sure that was Jason’s roommate. I waved and once I did, his face visibly relaxed. He blew out a breath and lifted a shaky hand back. He pulled forward, then turned around so he could park behind us.

I looked at Claire. “You ready?”

She shook her head, but her hand went to her seatbelt. “We have no choice. Let’s go and get these letters.”

We both nodded. We both reached for our doors…

...neither of us moved an inch.

Taylor,

If I know you—and I think I do by now ; )—you probably already know what I’m going to say in this letter. But I have to say it anyway because I have to put in words how much I love you and how much I’ve cared about our friendship.

I’m leaving. Surprise! (bad joke) (sorry)

That’s what this letter is about. I never meant to have my “other” life affect you, but it has. It was bound to happen eventually. Gambling—that whole world—is my addiction. I can’t get enough of it. I think about it the moment I wake up. I miss it when I’m being good, and I am literally counting down the hours, minutes, seconds until I can get back to it.

I thought it would be better if I was the one taking the bets, but it wasn’t. I still gambled, and it got all sorts of fucked up. I can’t tell you anything because if something ever happened to me, I don’t want you to be involved any more than you already are. Just trust me when I say that this life is a toxin, but one I can’t live without. It’s sweet fucking poison <-ha! That’s as poetic as I’m going to get here.

(After reading this over, it sounds like I was laughing as I wrote it. I wasn’t. I was bawling, but damn—I do have to laugh at how sucktastic this whole situation is.)

Anyway, if you’re reading this, you went to my apartment and saw everything. All my stuff is gone. And no, I wasn’t the one to get my shit out of there. I had some friends do it for me. They were told to box everything up and see if they could sell whatever they could to pay Rankin back. I owe him a lot of money, but it doesn’t matter. He’ll want to know who you are and who the others are. I know him. He won’t let it rest.  A part of me thinks that even if I do disappear, it won’t matter. He’ll still try to figure out who punched him and who knocked him unconscious. And if he does, I’m so very sorry.

The good thing, though, is that I know those guys can take care of themselves. (I’m not putting their names in here, in case something happens to this letter. I don’t want any more damning evidence, but just in case, burn this when you’re done reading. I know it’s addressed to you.)

So, going back to my dramatic goodbye here (So dramatic! Can you feel the thick sarcasm?), for real, I love you. You were my family when my real family kicked me out.

I know I told you things with Claire fizzled last year, but it really happened long before that. I don’t really know what happened, but I never fought for it. As long as I had you, I was okay. I really was. You were my rock for so many years. It meant the world to me that I was able to be your rock this last year. You’ll never know how much I loved being able to support you, even though it was because of a seriously shitty situation.

Please don’t worry about me. I took enough to get by for a while. I’m not telling where I’m going, but some of my friends have friends who can help me out. I’ll be fine. I really will. I may even seek treatment for my problem. I’m told it doesn’t stick well, but I’ll try. Maybe we can figure out some secret spy way to send coded messages. Probably not, though, because I’m sure I’d forget the code and all would be lost.

Okay. My ride is here. I have to sign off. Oh, hey, you should know that Claire is going to be a mess when she’s done reading my letter to her. It’s filled with a lot of “I’m sorry. I wish we had fought to keep our closeness.” And “I’m so glad we were a united front for Taylor this past year.”

I love you, Taylor. I’ll always be your best friend. No matter where I am or where you are, we’re still family. Physical distance can’t hamper our bond, and since I’m not there, do not let a certain someone hurt you. If he does, let him know that I’m coming back to kick his ass. I’ll get bigger guys to do the deed for me. I got your back, Taylor.

(But having written that, I did see how much he was worried about you that night. I may have to eat all my words. I think the guy does care for you, and if that’s the case, you have tamed the beast. Good luck. I’ve heard some of the crazy stuff he’s done. It’ll be a wild ride for you, so have fun with him.)

Okay. Shit. They’re honking. I really have to go.

I LOVE YOU, Taylor Laurelin Bruce. (I’ll be seeing you again, so this isn’t a goodbye letter.)

SEE YOU LATER— Jason

PS I made a call on your behalf. Please don’t be mad, and if you are, you can chew my ass out the next time we see each other. Because there WILL be a next time.

Using the back of my hands, I wiped the tears from my face. Claire was still reading her letter. Jason’s roommate (ex-roommate) handed us the two letters earlier, both sealed in envelopes, and mumbled something before taking off.

Once we got back into the car, Claire ripped into hers. I only held mine. I listened to her sniffling for a full minute before I had the strength to open it. And now, feeling gutted, I waited for Claire to be done as well.

Jason wanted me to burn the letter, but that wasn’t happening. I folded it up neatly and put it back into the envelope. When I saw him again, I’d burn it. Until then, this letter would never be destroyed.

It was my last contact with him.

A PSEUDO KIDNAPPING.

NOT REALLY.

REALLY.

LOGAN

Taylor’s ex-douchefriend’s head had started to bob up and down, back and forth, before the first moan came from him. I put him on a couch in the garage and kept the lights turned off—except for one spotlight trained solely on him. The only door was locked, and I stood right in front of it. The dipshit wasn’t leaving without giving me some answers.

“Wha…” His head raised from his chest. “Huh?”

“You good?” I called over to him.

“What?” His eyes opened, but shut again right away. He groaned and coughed before asking, “Where am I?”

“You and me.” I walked over to lean against my Escalade. “We’re going to have a chat.”

“Wait.” He still seemed so confused. Looking around, he lifted his hands and touched his face. “I was at the bar. I wanted to talk to Taylor, but this guy—” He stopped and squinted at me. “Was that you? Did you knock me out?”