Reckless Secrets (19 page)

It felt like my heart stopped for a second. When it started beating, it thudded way too loudly in my ears. What did Logan suspect?

I fixed my face in to a casual expression, trying to look like I hadn't really thought about it. "Close? Maybe closer than we were now that I've been in the office all semester."

Red headlights flashed in front of us in the fog. Logan hit the brakes again, cursed, and pounded the steering wheel. "Enough of this shit." He leaned next to his window, looked out, and pulled into the oncoming lane.

The fog was still so thick, I couldn't see a thing in the fields next to me. "Logan, no! You can't see." My heart raced.

Logan ignored me and hit the gas like he was angry. We surged forward.

I begged him. "Pull back in."

"Now that's what I like to hear a girl say."

"Logan, stop kidding." I grabbed his arm. "Get back in our lane."

"There's no one coming." He grinned and accelerated until we were going sixty miles an hour past the line of cars crawling along beside us. Five. Ten. Fifteen cars. Twenty.

"Logan!
Please
."

When he finally slowed and signaled, no one wanted to let us back in. I covered my eyes. Logan laughed and his eyes were lit with excitement.
 

"Shit!" He became suddenly serious. He veered to the right and wedged his way in as the car behind us laid on their horn.
 

Seconds later, a semi truck cruised past us the other way, missing us by way too close a margin.

I was shaking. "Do you have a death wish?"

"Maybe."

"Logan!" My mouth fell open.

"Just kidding," he said. "We were completely safe. I could see better than you think. I have good reflexes."

"But no one wanted to let you in."

"I made them, didn't I?" He squeezed my leg. "I'd never put you in danger."

"I think you just did," I said.

"I was showing off for my girl." He spoke playfully.

"I wasn't impressed.
Don't
do it again."

We fell uncomfortably silent. I couldn't stand the weekend getting off to a bad start. "Kind of hard to play I spy with my little eye in this weather."

Logan looked at me out of the corner of his eye. "I'm sorry, El. You're right. I lost my temper back there and got impatient and took a chance I shouldn't have. I do that sometimes—take risky chances." He smiled at me. "That's why I need you, you ground me. And remind me to use caution when it's important. I wish I'd met you earlier. Before—"

I turned in my seat to stare at him, knowing exactly what he meant. He couldn't know how on target he was. "Yeah, me too." I stroked his cheek. "Me too."

Seven hours later, it was dark, but the fog had burned off. We sped west on I-90 toward Seattle, but stopped short on Mercer Island, meandering down a maze of suburban streets, down a private driveway, and came to a stop in front of a well-lit, gorgeous house on the water.

"Home sweet home." Logan shut off the engine.

I gaped at the house. A house, any house, even a crappy one, that sat on the waterfront on Lake Washington was expensive. This one must have been obscenely pricey.

"Ready?" Logan reached for his door handle.

"No. Will you take me home?"

"I just did." He laughed. "Come on, El. They don't bite." He hopped out of the car.
 

I reluctantly got out. He grabbed my hand and held it as we walked beneath the stars and the light pollution of the city to the front door. It was quiet and I could hear the lapping of the lake against the docks. But the peaceful sounds did nothing to quiet my nerves.

Logan squeezed my hand. "Lighten up. It'll be okay." As he reached to slide his key in the door, the door swung open.

A tall, striking, athletic-looking woman opened the door. I recognized her as his mother from her picture in Logan's room. She was smiling happily and proudly.

"Ma!" Logan dropped my hand and grabbed his mother in a bear hug, huddling around her.

"You finally made it. I was getting worried," she was saying as I stood off to the side, forgotten.

Before Logan could speak, he was attacked from behind by a guy I assumed was Caleb. Logan had to release his mother to fend off his brother. But his mom laughed as she watched them wrestle and struggle for supremacy, reprimanding them only when they threatened to knock over a vase on the entry table. "Enough horseplay, boys."

Caleb and Logan finally released each other. I got my first full-on look at Caleb. In person he was more magnetic than in his picture. I still thought Logan was way more attractive than Caleb, but Caleb was hot, too, and just a little bit more—an inch or two taller than Logan. Shoulders that much broader. Features that much more chiseled. And practically reeking with the confidence of a professional athlete.

Harlan stood off to the side, watching his sons and me. His expression was not one of joy like Logan's mom's. In fact, it may have just been me, but I thought he looked angry.

Caleb shot a glance at me and caused a chain reaction. Logan grabbed my hand and squeezed it possessively, pulling me closely next to him away from Caleb. "Everyone—this is Ellie, Elizabeth, Martin. El, you've met Dad. This is my mom—"

"Call me Sue." Her voice was smooth, but—maybe, again, it was my own insecurity—I thought I detected an unenthusiastic, not exactly warm undertone.

Logan didn't seem to notice it. "This is my baby brother Caleb." He seemed determined to one-up his brother.

Caleb was undeterred. He flashed me a smile I was certain never failed to charm girls out of their panties. "Nice to meet you, El."

Logan stiffened and squeezed my hand so tightly I thought it might turn blue. "Ellie."

Caleb ignored Logan. "What is a gorgeous girl like you doing with this guy?"

"Can it, Two." Logan's voice was icy hard.

Harlan looked on with interest. Was I the only one who hated the tension in the room?

"Two?" I said, and laughed, trying to lighten the mood and wondering if Logan was putting Caleb down again. "What kind of a nickname is that? Is it for number two son? Who's One?" I smiled at Logan. "That must be you."

Four pairs of eyes turned to me and stared at me like I'd made some kind of major mistake. Like calling Logan One was almost heresy.

Logan came to my defense. "Forgive her. She's not the baseball geek we are. Two is the catcher's number."

"Oh." I blushed, but I kept smiling. "What was your number?" I realized I didn't know. I'd never even asked or bothered to look it up in an old yearbook.

"I was the pitcher—number one, of course."

So I was right, even though it was for the wrong reason. But no one seemed to care or acknowledge that.

"That's only in the numbering system used to record defensive plays." Caleb snorted. "Stop bullshitting her. We affectionately call him Twenty-six. That was his jersey number. But he should have been Sixty-six."

I didn't get it, but it was obviously a putdown. I turned to Logan. His jaw ticked. "Players with numbers larger than sixty are usually cut from the team," he said, staring at his brother.

I had to bite my tongue to keep from making a snarky comeback. How dare Caleb poke at Logan's tender spot! He had to know what he was doing.
 

Caleb laughed. "Lighten up, Logan. I'm just teasing."

I took Logan's arm. "It was a long, tiring drive," I said, making excuses for him. "Foggy across half the state. We're both a little tense and tired."
 

It was the wrong thing to say. Logan stiffened, making it obvious he didn't need me to come to his defense.

Sue came to the rescue. "I held dinner. It's on the table. Let's not let it get cold."

Chapter Twelve

The Walkers' house was built and situated just like you'd expect from a house on the water—it was long, all windows, with a stunning view of the water from every room and Seattle sparkling in the distance. Designed to catch and maximize the view. Every inch of the living area was expensively and tastefully decorated for Thanksgiving: glass pumpkins, ceramic turkeys, fall wreaths, and floral arrangements.
 

We sat at a spacious kitchen table in a room with curtain-less windows that showcased the view. Lake Washington calmly sparkled with lights from the houses around it. Sue and Harlan sat at the ends of the table. Caleb on one side, Logan and me across from him, with Logan nearest his dad and me next to Sue.

Conversation bounced around the table. The boys and Sue laughed and joked. I sat quietly by, answering politely when someone remembered to ask me a question. And Harlan contributed only minimally.

It wasn't until dessert that the focus shifted to me.
 

Sue set a plate of warm gingerbread and cream in front of me. "Tell us about your family, Ellie. What are they doing for Thanksgiving?"
 

Her question was so innocuous it was calculatedly dangerous. She knew exactly what she was asking. In fact, I was sure she knew the answer.

I smiled and looked directly at her. "Thank you. This looks delicious." I grabbed my fork. "My mom's on a cruise with her latest boyfriend."

"Any other family?" Sue set a plate in front of Logan and sat down.

"Not really. I'm an only child. I don't know my father." I almost stumbled on that lie, but it was the accepted story. "I don't even know who he is. That cuts out one side of the family." I laughed like it was a joke.
 

"Mom has never gotten along with her family. It has always been pretty much me and her and the stepdad of the moment. With her on a cruise, it's just me. Thank you so much for inviting me here for break. You're lifesavers."

Harlan answered for her. "We're glad to have you." His voice was seething with something unsaid. He turned to Logan. "What's this I hear about you testifying against Dr. Rogers?" The words burst out of his mouth with the force of having held them in for so long.

Logan froze with a bite of gingerbread on his fork. He set it down. "You heard right. It's the right thing to do." He stared his father down.

Harlan glared back at him. "I told you I have things under control—there's no need for you to get involved."

"I want to, Dad. It's the right thing to do." Logan's tone was surprisingly calm, but it was clear he wasn't going to back down.

Harlan pounded the table with his fist. I jumped.

"Damn it, boy! You will not drag this family's name through the mud. You won't make a public spectacle of us." Harlan's face turned rage red. He took a deep breath. "As long as I'm paying your bills, you'll do as I say. And I say you won't."

Logan's face was set and hard. He tossed his napkin on the table and pushed back. "Delicious dinner, Mom. I'm going to bring our bags in." Logan looked at me, sending me a signal to come with him.

"Yes, wonderful dinner. Thank you," I said to Sue, and rose from the table. "I'll help Logan."

Sue and Caleb looked unfazed, like these kinds of dinner explosions were more the norm than not. Sue looked a touch sad and resigned more than anything. "I put Ellie in the green guestroom, Logan. You can take her bags there." She wrapped her hands around her coffee cup.

Logan nodded and stormed out. I almost had to run to keep up with him. It was cold outside. I stood by the car and ran my hands up and down my arms as Logan opened the trunk.

"I'm sorry," I said.

He shrugged. "It's typical. Someday I'm going to be out from beneath his control. Someday soon." He sounded defiant and adamant.
 

"You can be out of his control now," I said. "We don't have to stay here. Let's get a hotel." The idea was highly appealing to me.

He shook his head and smiled sadly. "And hurt Mom? No. It'll blow over."

But I had the feeling he was lying. There was another fight brewing.

Logan took a deep breath and forced a smile. "You want to hear something funny? Mom put you in the room that's farthest from mine." He grinned and pulled me to him. "She must think you're a real threat to my chastity."