Logan Kade (Fallen Crest #5.5) (33 page)

“
What
?!”

Nate sighed heavily into the phone. His voice dipped low. “Look, I know we’re bickering like we always do, and I know it’s a little worse than normal. That’s on me. Everything’s changing, and yes, a part of me didn’t want you with Taylor because—well—because you’ve been more my friend than Mason has lately, and I didn’t want to lose another friend. But having said all that, I don’t know her that well, but she’s at the amusement park all alone. Something’s not right. So...what I’m saying is, go get your girl, Logan.”

And like he said, I went to get my girl.

I FUCKING CARE

TAYLOR

I sensed Logan’s approach long before he finally appeared. Sitting on top of that roller coaster, so high above the rest of the world, it’s remarkable what you can hear, feel, and see. I saw his Escalade’s headlights blocks away before he slowed outside the gate. I had Claire drop me off. She didn’t even question why I asked to be dropped off there. I think she was happy to go and deal with her own feelings, away from me, away from the one that had been close to Jason.

“Hey.”

I’d been sitting here, feeling Logan’s ascent as he climbed. The full moon lit us, but his face was in shadows. I heard caution in his tone and grinned. “You sound scared of me. I didn’t think Logan Motherfucking Sex Machine Kade was scared of anything.”

He laughed, and the sound was so smooth, so low, so genuine that it washed over me like a warm breeze. Instant tears pricked at my eyes, but I steeled myself. I wouldn’t let them fall. I was done with crying over people.

“Can I sit?”

Instead of answering, I scooted. This put me on the outside this time, so the only way off was through him or by plunging to the ground. That thought would have terrified me last time. This time I almost welcomed it. Once Logan sat, I expected questions, concerns, even words that would never comfort. My pain couldn’t be eased. I lost another family member.

He didn’t say anything, though I glanced over to find him watching me steadily.

“What?” I asked.

One of his eyebrows lifted. “Okay, I know this is the part where I’m supposed to ask you what’s wrong. You’re supposed to tell me, probably break down in tears, and then we express our undying lust for each other. You’re also supposed to somehow straddle me, and we have amazing hot sex.”

“I’m sensing a but?”

“But…” I could hear bitterness even as he laughed. It mirrored what I was feeling. “I don’t do that shit. I don’t follow rules or guidelines. I do my own fuck-ups, thank you. So…” He lifted an arm around me, resting it on the back of the car as his hand traced circles on my shoulder. He leaned back, kicking his leg up to rest on the front end of the car. He looked completely relaxed and let out a deep breath. “I already told you my dad used to be a major whore. Surprising fact: He’s no longer married, and he’s been the most committed partner ever. It’s sad that she’s a psychotic, evil bitch. I’m sure you’ll meet her one of these days. Apologies ahead of time. But that’s not the point of me filling the silence right now. I want to tell you something about me.”

“Logan.” I shifted toward him. My hand went to his leg.

He shook his head. “Nope. I’m telling you. You’re going to have deal with it.”

I smiled again, and this time it didn’t fade so quickly. The more Logan talked, the more his words and voice soothed me, helping the world go away. I scooted down to rest my head in the crook of his shoulder. I felt safe there.

“This happened a long, long time ago, and it’s not a great story. It actually pretty much sucks, but for some reason I feel compelled to tell you.” He stuck out his bottom lip. “My parents got divorced when I was still pretty young. To be honest, I don’t remember a time when they were happy. I’m sure they were once. I’m sure there are memories, but I can’t remember any.”

“This is the story?”

He patted my shoulder. “Patience, Firecracker. I’m getting to it.”

Another warm sensation flooded me. “Okay.”

“So my parents divorced, but that wasn’t the part that sucked. It was the before part, when they were still together.”

My chest tightened. “Logan,” I murmured.

He ignored me and kept going. “My mom was a closet alcoholic. I think she started drinking because of my dad’s cheating, or maybe he started cheating because of her drinking. I don’t know what came first. I’m sure Mason does, but we don’t talk about those years much. Neither of us wants to remember. It sucked. It majorly sucked. It was like living in a house where you know there’s something dead.”

He looked out over the city for a moment. “We were there. It was supposed to be our home, but it was just walls. The house was huge, so we had a lot of stuff, but it was empty. I could never shake the feeling that something was wrong. Mason loved me. I knew that. But from my dad, even my mom—I never felt anything. I know now that they do love me. They’ve showed it in different ways. Like, my mom moved back to Fallen Crest, and I lived with her for a year before graduating. If we ever need her, she’ll always fly in, no questions asked. That’s nice. And my dad, he’s been trying more lately. He’s committed to Sam’s mom, so I know he loves her, and he’s helped me a few times. He bailed me out last year so I didn’t get expelled, and he’s helping with… Well, he tries to show his love, so maybe that’ll come in a few years. I don’t know. I don’t have much hope for a real relationship with my dad, you know?”

I listened to him, and the more he said, the farther my heart sank, even though Logan sounded almost cheerful.

“I remember one time when I was little,” he added, his voice wistful. “It was Christmas Day, and this was at the end so Christmas was a joke. My mom usually passed out by the afternoon. My dad was always at the office, or with some woman. And Mason was usually pissed off. I always knew he was mad at Mom and Dad, but he was mad at what they were doing to me, too. That’s the part that always gets me: He was mad because of me. He worried about me. I might not have grown up with a happy or loving mom and dad, but I grew up with him. He loved me. He was like my mom and dad all together, and he never treated me the way a regular brother might. Some older siblings don’t want shit to do with the little brother. Mason was never like that.”

He shook his head. “In some ways, I think I had it better than him. If Mom and Dad did love each other once, he experienced that. But he lost it. I never had it. I’m only a year younger, but I guess that year makes a different. I don’t know if I’m making sense. I just—I had him to raise me, and he had no one to raise him. Mason raised himself. It’s why he hates adults so much. He’s gotten less angry since Sam came into his life. She’s helped ground him, and she loves him back. They’re good for each other like that.”

He trailed off again, lost in thought. I slid my hand into his and prompted, “You started to say something about a Christmas morning?”

“Oh, yeah.” He squeezed my hand, resting his head on top of mine. “It was weird, now that I’m thinking about it, because it wasn’t normal. I was up early. My mom was sober. Mason was sleeping in. Our dad must have been already gone. But there was this peaceful feeling in the house. It was like we got a break, just for that morning. No one was mad. No one was hurting. No one was lying. There was no anger. I mean, it came in a few hours, but not that morning. I remember going to look at the presents. I sat down in front of the tree, just looking. I thought it was so pretty. I liked looking at them because it made me feel normal—like I had a normal family, a normal holiday. I knew it wasn’t real, but I liked to escape there. My mom came into the living room with me that morning. She brought hot chocolate and cookies, and she sat down with me and looked at the tree.”

I moved so I could look up at him. A smile played over his face as he spoke.

“She asked what I was doing, and I lied. I said I was planning which present to steal. Usually she’d get mad, send me to my room or something. I never cared. It was better to be alone than hear the anger take your mom away, you know? But that morning, she didn’t believe me, or she chose to ignore me, and she nudged me and pointed at one of the ornaments. ‘What do you see there?’ she asked me.”

He shook his head, as if he were back in that room talking to his mother. “’It’s a baseball ornament,’ I said. And she replied, ‘No, it’s one piece.’ I didn’t know what she was talking about, but she pointed to another ornament and said the same thing. That one was a picture of Mason in a frame, but she said it was the second piece. She kept going until she’d pointed out all of them. When she was done, she turned to me and asked, ‘When you put all those pieces together, what do you see?’”

He laughed, shaking his head. “I thought I was so smart. I answered, ‘A bunch of stupid-looking ornaments?’ But she said, ‘A life. Each of these ornaments signifies a memory. Look at them individually and you only see a small section. It’s like a puzzle. But when you put them all together…’” He raised his hands. “And she lifted her hands up like this, showing me the entire tree, and said, ‘This tree is our life story. All together it’s a masterpiece. And some day, you’ll go off and start your own tree. You’ll start making a whole new masterpiece.’”

“Logan,” I said softly.

He shook his head, his eyes hooded. “She told me she liked to stare at our Christmas tree, too, because it reminded her of our family’s story, and that always helped her. I didn’t know
what
it helped her with, and I don’t know if it
continued
to help her—I’m guessing not—but that morning, I had my mom. And it felt damn good. I got a little glimmer of what it’s like to feel a mother’s love.”

He looked at me then. “I don’t really know what you’re going through right now. You lost your mom, your ex-boyfriend is a jackass, your dad’s MIA, and I know your two best friends have left you high and dry. One left you in the literal sense.”

I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to see the pain on his face. It was hidden in the deepest places where only someone who felt a similar pain could sense it. I did, and it brought up all my turmoil once again.

“Taylor,” he said.

He’d never felt his mother’s love except for that one morning. I’d felt my mother’s love so many times. So many mornings she’d woken me with pancakes for breakfast, made me a sack lunch even when I didn’t want it, proudly displayed my school pictures on the wall, went to any competition I was in. The tears were starting. I didn’t fight them anymore.

“I’ve heard people talk about you, and your ‘family’,” I told him. “Your brother, Sam, even Nate. I overheard some girls in the library talking about you, and they were jealous. You guys are so close, so tight-knit, and your walls are so high. No one can break ‘em down, and no one can climb over.”

His hand squeezed mine.

“I heard those girls saying that stuff, and I thought, even though I’d just lost my mom—and dad in a way—I was lucky. I had Jason and Claire, even though I know Claire isn’t that great of a friend, but I was actually kinda happy. You and I became friends—maybe more than friends—and I felt good. But now…” I clung so tightly to his hand. “I feel like I only have you, and I don’t even know what this is. Jason left, and I lost one more person in my life.”

He didn’t say anything, and I wasn’t looking at him anymore, but I felt him turn to me.

“I can’t cling to you,” I said.

“Taylor—” he started.

I shook my head, forcing myself to let go of his hand. “I’m in a place right now that’s not good, and I’m not going to be one of those girls who pretends this is more than it is.”

“Wait a minute—”

I had to be strong. I had to shut it down, shut him down. “It’s like I’m in a tornado right now, and instead of having something solid to cling to, I’m holding on to a tree branch. It’ll break, and it’ll be destroyed, and I will, too. Whatever this is, you and me, I can’t destroy it. I can’t.”

“You want space? Is that what you’re saying?”

“I want…” I would not break down. That was all I could focus on, but I forced myself to say, “I don’t want space, but I need it.”

I finally looked up and saw a stricken look in his eyes. I’d surprised him.
Good,
I thought. There was no hurt. I hadn’t made him feel pain. “I need—I can’t hold on to you right now,” I continued. “I can’t destroy whatever we have. I can’t do that, Logan.”

He turned away and gazed out over the city. After a beat, his jaw hardened. “That’s bullshit.”