Logan Kade (Fallen Crest #5.5) (4 page)

She backed up at the same time Jason leaned forward in his chair. “Oh no.”

I looked. “What?”

“Move, assholes. I’m leaving,” the girl said. She wasn’t scared. She was annoyed.

Jason said to me, standing up, “That’s Samantha and those are Sebastian’s guys. This is so not good. Not at all. Hold on.”

“Who’s Samantha?” I asked, but he didn’t answer. I looked over and saw he wasn’t there.

As he disappeared around the house, a few people had followed Samantha to the front. Those people stopped, saw what was going on, and turned back to their friends. Pretty soon, more and more people started to come around the house. Soon a crowd started to fill in around her. I stood up, going over too. Maybe it was the beer in me, or maybe it was because of my own tragic douchebag ex-boyfriend, but I wasn’t going to let her stand there to be gawked at alone. My confidence that anyone would help was at an all-time low, so fuck it. I was going to help.

Damn the consequences.

I stepped closer, recognizing the girl now as Jason’s words clicked. This was the girl who came with Logan Kade. She stood now with her hands at her sides, her feet set apart. Her shoulders were back and ready as she watched the guys. She was ready to fight, and a nervous flutter moved through me, but there was an excited flutter right next to it. No. That was an angry flutter, but it was bordering on excitement. I was ready to fight, too, and remembering a time when someone who hadn’t stuck next to me, who should’ve, spurred me on.

“Get Logan,” someone yelled.

Another girl asked, “Where
is
Logan?”

I heard other people saying the same thing, but I focused on the girl.

She raised her chin, and a warning flashed in her eyes. “Touch me. I dare you.”

There were three of them, all tall and, not to be stereotypical, but they looked like preppy douchebags. Each was good looking, with bodies built like they rowed every morning for hours. They looked like money. It practically dripped from their clothes. Their jawlines were rigid enough to form glaciers.

Their eyes were icy, too, as they stared back at the girl. They weren’t backing down.

I broke from the crowd, planning to go stand next to her. But before I could move, the crowd broke in half. An actual opening formed, and Logan Kade strode forward.

My foot jerked back into its spot, stepping back as he brushed past me.

Kade stopped beside her, and the three guys turned their attention to him. They didn’t move or say anything, but the air shifted. It’d been dark and ominous before, and I still felt a battle brewing.

“
Kade starts fights, and he finishes them.
”

A low tingle went through me, warming me. I remembered what Jason said and the nerves/anger/excitement took on a whole other feeling. My mouth was almost watering. I wanted to see what would happen. I wanted to see this Logan Kade in action, and for some reason, I was thirsting to see this fight.

“Kade,” one of them grated out his name.

Kade glanced at the girl, and then settled back on the spokesman. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s a party. We were invited.”

“And that’s why you’re facing off with Sam?” He moved forward a step.

“We weren’t facing off...”

Samantha folded her arms over her chest. “Yeah, right. You were just walking past me? That’s why you wouldn’t let me get past you to the car. We just ‘happened’ to block each other and you didn’t hear me when I told you to move.”

A little laugh slipped from me.

Kade threw me a sideways look.

I should’ve clamped a hand over my mouth. I should’ve let them know I wasn’t involved, because really, I wasn’t. I didn’t know this girl. It wasn’t my place to say anything or join in, but I didn’t. A dark part of me had opened up, seeing that this girl might need help. I wanted something to happen. I was almost egging it on in my head and as Kade watched me, his eyes lingering, the dark part grew into something else. My body grew warm and my pulse started to pick up. It was like he knew what was going on in me, and I swallowed over a lump, because that wasn’t right. He couldn’t know. He didn’t even know me...

But I felt like he did. I felt like he knew exactly what was going on in me, and a flash of anger flared up in me. I turned away. He could see inside of me, and that was too much. I didn’t want that so I slipped back into the crowd. As I pulled further away, enough so I wasn’t on the front line, my insides were still charged up.

“Come on. Who invited them?” someone near me asked.

“Who are these guys?”

“Park’s lackeys,” another voice answered. “And they weren’t invited.”

More and more partygoers were talking. They were annoyed, and an excited buzz filled the atmosphere. People wanted a fight. They wanted to see some action.

The three douchebags scanned the crowd. Two stepped back. They seemed wary, but the third focused his attention on Kade. He moved closer, stepping so he was right in Kade’s face. His lip curled in derision, and his mouth moved, saying something I couldn’t hear.

Oh boy.
I swallowed.

I recognized the look in Kade’s eyes. His anger wasn’t fading; it was increasing. And then it didn’t matter.

Kade’s hand flew and punched the guy right in the face. Douchebag One’s head flung backward, and he stumbled a few steps before recovering. His two friends shared a look, seeming unsure what to do, but Douchebag One made the decision for them. He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, locked eyes on Kade, and charged.

The fight was on.

“No, no, no!” Jason shoved his way through the crowd. “Cops have been called,” he yelled. “Everyone scatter—”

Before he finished talking, sirens began to wail. They were faint, still in the distance, but he was right. They were coming.

Douchebag One reared back. He was going to hit Kade.

“Stop!” I yelled.

Kade heard me and turned to look. I pointed behind him. Before he turned around, he ducked, and Douchebag One’s arm went over his head. Kade caught it, twisted around, and rammed his elbow into the guy’s gut. He hit him with an uppercut, then bent over and tossed him over his back. The two other guys ran to their friend and pulled him away as they took off with the scattering crowd.

I watched, frowning. We weren’t in high school. We didn’t really need to worry, did we? But Jason grabbed my hand and yanked me after him.

“Come on,” he said. “There’s illegal shit here. We don’t want to get caught. Trust me.”

I was still revved up. I didn’t know what from: from Kade or from the fight, but Jason took off and I followed right behind. As we zipped past a car, Kade was right there. He was heading to a different vehicle and for a moment, our paths crossed.

Kade looked at me. His eyebrows furrowed together, like he wanted to say something, but Jason yanked on my hand and we were past him.

“Logan!” Samantha called from farther down the road.

She waved from an Escalade. Jason veered toward them, pulling me along. I wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he continued right past the vehicle. I glanced back and watched as Kade sprinted for it. He leaped, took hold of the top of the Escalade, and somehow threw himself into the front seat as Samantha clambered into the back.

Once inside, Kade reached out and pounded on the top of the vehicle. “Let’s go,” he barked.

The driver took off, and they were past us in two seconds, just as Claire pulled up.

Jason hurried into the passenger seat, and I threw myself into the back. Claire gunned the engine, and we turned off the block and onto another street as the cop cars began pulling up in front of the house.

“That was close.”

I wasn’t sure who said that, but it didn’t matter. We were all thinking it.

Then I grinned. I wanted to do it again.

SOC 101: MINDF*CKING A GROUP

TAYLOR

The house was dark when Claire dropped me off.

Empty wine bottles sat on the kitchen table, along with half-empty glasses and a platter with cheese and crackers on it. A few grapes remained in a bowl, along with some crumpled-up napkins and three beer bottles where I assumed my dad’s co-worker had been sitting. A couple of the glasses had lipstick stains near the rim.

I plopped down in a chair and surveyed the scene. Judging from the dirty dishes in the sink, the food was plentiful. And based on a few more empty wine bottles in the garbage, the booze had been flowing all night long.

Speaking of booze, some of the beer started to trek its way back up my throat. I grimaced and swallowed as I cleaned up the kitchen quickly. My dad wouldn’t have time in the morning, and I had no doubt he was already knocked out now, sleeping the booze off. When I finished and headed upstairs, I was surprised to hear the sounds of his television coming from his office.

But he was zonked out. I was right.

An old football game played, while my dad snored in his chair. His head was back, his mouth open, and another eruption sailed out. I shook my head; I’d found him this way so many nights— either this way or he was gone. When being a workaholic didn’t help with forgetting, he’d find other ways: alcohol. Strip clubs. I was pretty sure he’d had a brief affair with a married woman.

The house reeked of cheap perfume and cigarette smoke, and I’d found notes written on napkins in the trash. Most had hotel names and room numbers on them, but I didn’t have the heart to follow him to those places. I’d thought about it once. I’d had my phone ready to go. I was going to call Jason and make him go with me—Claire wouldn’t have understood. Her parents were still together, and alive. But Jason was different. He got it, but after I brought his number up, I couldn’t hit the call button.

So coming home and finding my dad here? I was okay with that. At least he was here.

I got to work. The television was turned off and I wheeled his chair down the hall to his bedroom. Thank God for wooden floors. Lining the recliner up next to his bed, I put his feet on the mattress, folded up the rug underneath the wheels so the chair wouldn’t go anywhere, and hit the controller so the chair folded down. He was next to the bed if he wanted to roll in there, or he could sleep the rest of the night the way he was. Either way he’d be hurting in the morning.

I grabbed a water bottle and a couple of painkillers and set them on the nightstand before heading to bed.

When I woke up the next morning, the chair was back in the office, and he’d taken the water with him. The painkillers were gone, too. After getting dressed and ready, I sat at the kitchen table drinking my coffee. It was peaceful. It was quiet. It was relaxing, but that didn’t last once I left and got to school. I was late. Really late.

The door to my first class was about to close as I sprinted around the corner. A guy was reaching for it, and when he saw me a frown appeared, but he waited. I sailed past with a breathless, “Thank you.”

I slipped into the first empty chair, which was in the front row. The door closed and the guy walked past me...right to the front of the class. Lovely. He could glare at me all through class. I snuck a look over my shoulder, but I didn’t see any other open chairs. I was stuck.

Note to self: Leave twenty minutes earlier tomorrow.

The guy cleared his throat. His hands rested on the podium, and his eyes lingered on me for a moment before sweeping the class. “Welcome to Abnormal Psychology. My name is Jeremy Fuller,” he said. “I’m Professor Gayle’s assistant, so I’ll be helping out with most of the teaching and testing for this class.”

He had striking features. Blue eyes, light blond hair that held a little curl, and an almost too-thin face, but he was handsome. He looked a little like Jude Law, which would normally have made me frown, but as far as I was concerned, this guy was my teacher. I’d be friend, not foe.

We got the syllabus, an explanation of everything contained in the syllabus, and when no one could think of a question to stall the arrival of our first lecture, we got that, too. The lesson filled the rest of the hour. He dismissed the class, but I was putting my laptop away when he came up to me, clearing his throat.

“You’re Taylor Bruce?”

“Yeah?”

“Hi. I’m Jeremy Fuller—” His lip twitched, and he pulled back his hand. “Sorry. Habit. We already did introductions, and I swear, I’m not a creepy teacher dude.” He paused, closing his eyes for a beat. Then he shook his head. “I’m coming across like an idiot. Okay. Let me try again. I knew your mother.”