Logan Kade (Fallen Crest #5.5) (21 page)

There it was. I put it out there. We’d been through too much shit not to be honest. I waited, and got my answer when she hung her head. I was right. I murmured softly, “She’s not going to hurt me, Sam.”

“That’s what you say now.” She shook her head, grimacing. “You’re the glue of us. Did you know that?”

I smirked. “When am I
not
the glue?”

“No. I mean it.” The haunted look was back. She didn’t even hide it now. “Things have changed even since I joined the group, but the glue’s not Mason. Not anymore. It’s you. Mason doesn’t seem to care. I think he likes Taylor, but I know Nate and I are worried. And we…just…we don’t want you hurt. That’s all.”

“I’m good, Strattan.” I winked for good measure. “I’m always good. You know that.”

Her shoulders lifted up in a slow and deep breath. “Yeah, well.” She bit down on her lip before looking away again. “You’re like me, Logan.”

“What do you mean?”

“You grew up being hurt, just like me.”

I felt her words in my gut, and I didn’t like it. I frowned. “Well—” A flippant remark was on my tongue, but she shook her head, saying over me, “Don’t. Okay? Mason got to see his parents happy at some point. I know you didn’t. Neither did I, and if I did, I can’t remember it anymore. I know that kind of hurt goes deep, tunnels inside of you like a cancer. You mask it, just like I did.”

Fuck. She went deep, but sorry, Sam. I wasn’t going to go there. Not yet, anyway. I changed the subject, trying for a smile, “You haven’t been running as much lately.”

A wry laugh came from her throat. She looked away again, then nodded to herself before finding my gaze once more. “Surprising, huh?” I relaxed. She was going with the topic change. She was a sister to me, but I wasn’t ready. I didn’t want to go there with anyone. I hadn’t, except Mason. Then she was saying, “Considering my mom’s been back all summer.”

“Well, since you brought her up, yeah.” My lip twitched up. What a fucking psycho.

Sam’s mom, Analise, came back into our lives last Christmas, but Sam had stayed away from her. She’d refused to go home for holidays, and when summer break arrived, Sam spent a month at her dad’s house. She’d been back here, staying at the house with Mason, once he started early training. He told me Analise had been calling Sam more lately, pushing to spend time with her, so I had a feeling the old days when Sam would run for hours would be happening again, and soon.

“You know...” Sam gave me a forced smile. The corners of her mouth lifted, but it didn’t extend to her eyes. They still looked dead. “Never mind about what I said before. I love you, but you know what you’re doing.”

“You sure?”

She nodded, turning back to the hallway. Her head lowered, and her voice trailed off. “Yeah…” She looked over her shoulder one last time before going back to her bedroom. “Fuck her brains out.”

I smirked. “That’s the plan. As often as I can.”

TAYLOR

I’d been staying mostly at Logan’s house over the last month. I hated to say it, but most everything and everyone went to the backburner. It wasn’t that I wanted to do that. It just happened. Jason was busy with friends. So was Claire. I saw them every now and then, and Claire for lunch a few times a week, but that was it. Logan was the same. We saw Nate at parties, sometimes going with him, but we always left on our own earlier. And for whatever reason, we hadn’t crossed paths with Logan’s brother and Sam that often. There’d been a few times, but nothing where we spent a lot of quality time together.

Last night had been one of those times, and like the other mornings, I headed to class before Logan without a plan for the weekend. I overheard other students talking about the away game. They hadn’t had one yet, which wasn’t normal. People were excited, planning on road tripping for the event. I wondered if Logan was going to go, and what that meant about us, but I got my answer later.

Hey! Sex Machine here. How’s your day? Can we meet up Sunday night? We’re going to the game this weekend so we won’t be around.

We
. He said
we
. My grin faltered. What did that mean?
We
.

Not
me
, as in
he
wouldn’t be around, but
we
, as in he and others, like they were all going to hang out together, like they were friends. Hearing my own thoughts, I rolled my eyes. I was being an idiot. I replied,
Sounds good. Have a fun weekend!

Sweet. Talk to you later, Bruce.

I sighed and scooted lower on the couch. I had to ask myself the same question again: What the hell was I doing? I typed back,
Will do. See you Sunday.

Figuring the conversation was done, I started to put my phone back on the table, but it buzzed again.

You’re probably going to get drunk text messages from me. Be prepared.

My grin returned.
They better be good.

Only dick pics.

I laughed out loud.
Promise?

I can send you one right now.

If you do, I can’t promise what I’ll do with it.

I suggest banners, maybe even fliers. Everyone should know it by sight. ;)

I typed back:
It should have its own fan group.

#Logansdick I’ll get Nate to be the admin for it.

We kept going back and forth, and it was late when we finally stopped, and my sides hurt from laughing, and my cheeks hurt from smiling.

And they didn’t really hurt, not at all.

Logan texted a few times during the next day. Cain won, he wanted to share with me. The rest were jokes throughout the day. I was drifting off to sleep when my phone lit up. When I saw the first text, I laid back, already smiling.

If I weren’t in a hotel with Nate, three hours away, this would be a booty text.

I typed back,
Are you drunk?

Yes. If I weren’t, I’d probably be driving to your house instead.

That’d be good with me. My dad’s gone tonight.

Shit. Because of the game, right? Fuck. See? I should’ve asked you to come after all.

I paused. He had thought about asking me? I sat there surprised for a moment.
That’s okay. I needed to get a lot of stuff done. I applied at Pete’s Pub after all.

You did? Did you get the job?

Trained tonight already.

Fuck yeah! Wait. Are you a server?

A bartender.

Even better. Shit, I gotta go. Nate’s going to take my phone away. I’ll call you tomorrow.

I typed out a goodnight and left the phone on the nightstand. Sinking into my covers, I didn’t even try to hold back the smile on my face. It felt good to have that excited feeling in my belly.

“Eric!” I would’ve screamed, but I couldn’t. Another gunshot sounded from farther down the hallway. I crouched on the floor and looked down the corridor, holding my breath. They hadn’t come around the corner. There was still time. I reached out my hand. Eric stood frozen over me. He’d started to bend down to help me up, but then that shot went off. He couldn’t move. He just stared right where they were going to come from.

“Eric,” I whispered. My hand reached for his.

He still didn’t move.

I was growing panicked. “Eric! Please.”

One more gunshot.

“Eri—” I started again, but he looked down. The fear in his eyes was stark.

I knew. Even before he started to shake his head, I knew. I felt it in my bones, and it chilled me. He was going to leave me here.

I tried to push myself up from the floor, but I couldn’t. My knee wouldn’t work. “Eric. Please.”

His eyes went flat. His head shook from right to left, and he began to move backward. He almost melted away from me. He moved so softly, like a ghost. I barely heard him when he said, “I can’t. I…I can’t, Taylor.”

“Eric!” I hissed, sitting up as much as I could. “Help me!”

He was my first kiss.

He still shook his head. He was so far away now, almost to the front desk.

He took my virginity.

He was the first guy to hold my hand, the first guy to take me to a dance, the first everything. He was the first one I’d loved.

“I’m sorry, Taylor.” His hand trembled. He paused at the door, just before slipping outside. “Please forgive me.”

He was the first guy to abandon me.

I woke up screaming. I’d thrown off my covers, and my entire body was drenched in sweat. I jerked up to a sitting position and grabbed my knee. I could still feel the pain there. But no, I was in my bedroom. I forced myself to look around. The window was open. A soft breeze whooshed through the room. I drew a shuddering breath as my heart pounded in my ears.

It was a dream.

My mind felt jumbled. It hadn’t been just a nightmare this time. There were other thoughts mixed in I rubbed my hands on my face and rocked back and forth for a moment. I needed to calm down. Pressing my forehead to the backs of my knees, I drew in air. I felt something cool against the backs of my hands. It wasn’t sweat. It was tears; I’d been crying.

No one was home. It was just me.

“Mom,” I whispered to myself. I wanted her here. I wanted to feel her arms around me. I closed my eyes, imagining the touch of her lips to my forehead. No matter the nightmare, no matter my age, she always took care of me. I turned to my side and grabbed the blanket. My hand formed a fist around it, and I imagined it was her hand. She sat next to me. She was still my mom.

But she wasn’t here. She was gone.