TWIN PASSIONS: (A Logan Brothers Novel) (21 page)

The nights events were repeating
in my mind as my eyes closed, the world growing dark and warm around
me.

Everything will seem better in
the morning. It always does.

Zack

My eyes slowly opened as streaks
of bright sunlight flashed across the room. I looked down to see
Gemma stirring on the sofa next to me, curled up into an awkward
position against my body. In the cold light of the morning she looked
so pale, so tender, so soft.

My mind was still burning as I
looked at a clock hung on the wall in the corner. It said 8 AM. What
time had I got here? I'd only been sleeping for a few hours.

But I was quickly wide awake, my
head still rocking from the previous evening. That picture...who would
do that? Someone who had something against me? Against Gemma? My mind
was blank in its search for answers.

I'd come over hoping Gemma might
know, but she was as in the dark as me. But what could I do? Keep
protesting my innocence? They wouldn't believe me.

And how innocent were we really?
How innocent was I? It was only the sound of the clock that stopped
me from kissing her. Maybe I did deserve what was happening to me.
Maybe it was all fair.

I stood up, carefully moving
Gemma onto the sofa, and walked into the kitchen to grab a glass of
water. Her place was small, but cosy. Unlike my own apartment it was
in pristine condition, everything in it's rightful place.

I heard a light coughing behind
me and looked over to see Gemma sit up on the sofa, stretching out
her limbs like a lioness under the morning sun.

“
Hey,” she croaked, rubbing
her eyes, “what happened last night.”

I filled her a glass of water
and walked over to her. “I guess we passed out.”

I handed her the glass and she
took a long sip, grimacing and rubbing her head. “I feel awful.
What time is is?”

“
Just past 8.”

“
What! It's too early for a
Saturday,” she moaned.

“
Yeah, look, I'd better go.
You should get some more sleep, we can talk about all of this when
our heads are straight.”

She nodded, in no position to
argue, and stood up. I walked towards the door, my body aching and
cold.

“
I'll come down with you,”
she said, “I could do with the fresh air.”

We walked together in silence,
an exhaustion in my body. My mind felt awake, alert, still battling
the previous nights events, but my body was weak and drained. The
sunshine was warm to my skin as we stepped out of the building, it's
rays giving me life.

“
It'll all be OK,” Gemma
said, noticing the strain in my eyes. “Things will work themselves
out.” I didn't have her optimism.

We stood close, face to face
outside the building, her eyes weary and consoling. She wore no
make-up, yet looked so pretty and pure. There was an innocence about
her that I'd always loved.

She put her hand to my face and
pulled me in for a hug, kissing my cheek. As she did I saw a flash
out of the corner of my eye and turned, quickly, to look at the other
side of the road.

There, ducking for cover behind
an old station wagon, was a hooded figure, wrapped up warm with a
camera in hand. He shot off as soon as I saw him, rushing off down
the street.

Without giving it a seconds
thought I gave chase, ripping myself from Gemma's arms and running
after him. I had no time to say goodbye, no time to stop and think. I
just ran after the fucking paparazzo.

I shot off down the street,
trying to make up the ground between us. He was fast, but I was
faster, getting closer and closer as my body burst to life. I could
feel the adrenaline pumping through me, giving me speed.
It was
him, last night. It was him in the bar. It was him who'd fucked
everything up for me.

The mystery figure turned round
a corner, moving down a side street. My lungs were burning as I
quickened my pace, desperate not to lose him. I turned round the same
corner, seeing him shooting off down the darkened alley. A fence
blocked the path up ahead, but he jumped and climbed quickly over it,
dropping to the other side. I followed, leaping straight to the top
of the fence, and flung my chest over.

I was gaining on him, cutting
the space between us, as the chase continued. There was a light at
the end of the alley, the sun shining and glaring off a series of
trash cans. The glint made it difficult to see as my target
disappeared around the next corner. I kept moving, bursting into the
morning light.

I looked desperately down the
street but couldn't see him.
Where had he gone?

I ran the way he'd turned,
sprinting off and looking for side streets he might have turned down.
The street was empty. I couldn't see anyone.

Then, suddenly, I heard tires
screeching as a car came shooting out of an alley just ahead of me. I
could see the hooded figure inside, hunched over the wheel as the
vehicle roared away from me. I ran, gaining on it briefly, but it
soon picked up speed, gradually stretching further away from me down
the road.

“
DAMN IT!” I roared.

I'd lost him. He was gone.

Present Day

Cade

I'd never ached so badly as I
did the morning I woke up after my fight with Agulla. That guy had
battered me for over 3 rounds before I finally managed to make things
happen. I'd gone through 12 rounds with guys without feeling these
sorts of effects afterwards. But then, I guess, this guy was second
in line for a title shot for a reason.

I knew, despite my win, that
that wouldn't change. I wouldn't just usurp his position and suddenly
become the second contender. No, that wasn't how things worked.

I would have made a real mark on
the major promoters, though. It wasn't just the fact that I'd taken
the guy down in style: it was the fact that the people loved me, I
had a cult following, and my own star power was beginning to grow.
Promoters wanted more than just good fighters. They wanted drama,
they wanted real animosity between two fighters. That's what sold
tickets, that's what drew in the biggest crowds. I could deliver
that, and, yes, I'd attract more women to the sport as well. That
wasn't something that promoters would overlook.

It should have been the greatest
night of my life afterwards, but that fucking betraying cunt, Zack,
ruined it all. The way he sat there, denying the proof in front of
him, was pathetic. He'd been sneaking around behind my back with my
girlfriend, lying to me every step of the way. It made me sick just
thinking about it all.

I tried not to care that Gemma
dumped me. Why should I? Why should I give a fuck about someone who'd
treat me like that, who'd lie to me through their teeth and play me
off against my own twin brother.

They were both as bad as each
other.

It wasn't until after she'd left
that I'd checked my phone. I had so many messages of congratulations
from people that I almost missed the one that really mattered. When I
opened it up to see a picture of them kissing I almost crushed the
phone I was squeezing so tight. I didn't know who sent it to me.
Frankly, I didn't care. All I wanted to do was punish Zack, and
showing him up for what he was in front of everyone was the perfect
way to do it.

Now I was lying in bed, some
random girl draped over me. At least now I could fuck other girls without feeling guilty. I
could really take advantage of my name, my power. Fuck Gemma and fuck
Zack. They're both dead to me now.

It was late afternoon and my
head had only just stopped spinning. God knows when I eventually got
to bed; God knows when I got to sleep. I couldn't remember a thing,
and had no idea who this chick was, lying on my cock.

I heard a beep and reached for
my phone. I didn't recognize the number. I opened up the text message
and my heart began pounding again. My breathing was rising, my body
beginning to tremble with anger. The girl on me began to stir and
looked up at me with a smile.

“
Heyyy baby,” she said with
this southern drawl, “what a night, huh.”

I didn't look at her. I just
looked straight at my phone.

“
Are you OK?” she continued,
her voice growing concerned, “you look kinda freaky.”

“
Get out,” I said calmly.

She giggled. “What?”

“
GET OUT!” I roared.

She jumped immediately to her
feet and slid off the bed. “OK, OK, I'm going,” she said,
grabbing her clothes and stumbling, naked, out into the living room
with a final word of “psycho” as she left.

My breathing continued to grow
short as I stared at the image in front of my eyes, and the caption
above it.

“
This morning,” it read.
That's all it said, there was nothing else. But there didn't need to
be.

Below it, was another image,
this time of Zack and Gemma hugging affectionately outside of her
apartment.

My hand was trembling as I
dropped the phone to my bed.

“
He's a fucking dead man! He's
dead!”

Zack

Oh God I felt awful.

Not just hungover and exhausted,
but mentally ripped to shreds. I'd had that hooded photographer in my
grasp and I'd let him get away. It was my one chance to clear my name
and it disappeared down the road in a shitty light blue Volvo.

And now I was at the club, yet
another Saturday night about to begin. It was the last place I wanted
to be right now. I just wanted to stay in my apartment and take a
breather for a few days, but no, duty called.

It was early evening and the
club would open in a couple of hours. I had to go through my usual
checks, meeting up with the bar staff and the bouncers and the DJ to
make sure they were all ready to go. Soon I'd go off and see out the
rest of the night in my office, drowning out the noise of the club
with some chilled music and a couple of glasses of whiskey.

But right now I was outside
talking with Brick, my head bouncer, and a couple of other doormen.
One of them was new so I needed to set him straight on the way things
were run around here. No shit from anyone or they're out. No second
chances, but no violence either. I'd seen enough candid videos on the
news of bouncers getting a little too physical with unruly customers,
and didn't want to get sucked into any sort of legal battle if things
went too far. I knew Crash would have my head if that sort of
negative attention came down on us.

“
I'm gonna be in my office all
night,” I said, “from start to finish. I don't want any fucking
disturbances, OK, not unless it's an absolute emergency.”

“
Yes boss,” said Brick.

I waited for the other two to
nod and say the same but their eyes were cast behind me down the
street. “Hey, you two,” I said, snapping my finger, “pay
attention will you.”

They both looked at me, but kept
glancing down the road. “Err, yes boss.”

“
What the hell is so
fascinating?” I asked, turning around and looking down the street.

Oh shit, here we go.

Storming down the sidewalk was
Cade, this ferocity burning in his eyes. The street was busy as
people all looked at him passing, a murmur beginning to grow as they
all asked each other the same question: “is that Cade Logan!”

I could hear people beginning to
shout and cheer as he stormed forward towards me.

Yo, you the man Cade!

Great win last night Crusher!

The city's proud of you Cade!

People were coming and slapping
him on the back, trying to get close to touch him, but he kept on
marching, taking no notice of them. He looked like he did when he was
entering the ring for one of his fights, his eyes set on his
opponent. Only this time it wasn't in the ring and I wasn't watching
from the outside. This time, the opponent was me.

I could see his fists clenching
as he approached, this madness in his eyes, but I stood my ground.
Adrenaline began surging through my body, putting all of my nerves on
edge. I stepped back slowly as he got nearer. I could hear Brick
behind me: “is everything all right boss?”

I didn't answer. I didn't have
time. Cade didn't stop moving, he just kept storming in and then
swung straight at me. I managed to duck away as he stumbled forward
past me. He seemed like he was still drunk from the night before,
massive dark bags under his eyes.

A crowd began gathering around
us like it was a scrap in the schoolyard. They were chatting
excitedly at the thought of seeing their favorite boxer fighting up
close.

“
Is that his brother?” I
heard someone shout. “That's Zack Logan!”

I stepped back into the middle
of the throng as Cade turned around. I could see Brick looking at me
as if to say “what should I do? Should I help?” but I had no time
to respond, not even with a look.