Surrounded (Unsettled Series Book 2) (18 page)

“Did you hear what I said?” Alex squawked into the phone. I had no idea what she was talking about because I was far too busy trying to figure out how the hell I got so lucky. Logan had, charm, brains, and the most delicious moves in bed that any girl could wish for.

“Uh Alex, can I call you back?”

“
Ugh.
Yes. Get back to…
whatever
it is you’re getting back to.” As if she didn’t already know.

“Hey,” I murmured, tossing his phone on the nightstand. He sauntered over to the bed and peeled the sheet back, uncovering my naked body. I felt his gaze scorch every inch of my exposed flesh.

I flung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up. “I should probably wash all this frosting off now.”

Without answering me, Logan bent down, grabbed me around the knees and tossed me over his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” I squealed.

“Helping you out of a sticky situation,” he responded innocently, walking quickly towards the bathroom where I could hear the shower water still running.

“Are you sure that’s the only thing on your agenda?”

“I never lie to you, so no, that’s not the only thing on my agenda.” He ran his fingers down the back of my legs and made me shiver. Ten minutes ago I was tired, but now, with the promise of hot water and Logan’s hands on me, there was no way I was turning him down.

Surprisingly my parents didn’t give me too much flack about cutting my visit with them short to go to San Francisco. After I told my mom and dad about Logan’s grandparent’s tragedy, they were very understanding. After doing some shopping and me buying a new phone, we spent most of Sunday relaxing with my family out on their back deck since we‘d decided to leave the next day.

"Yes Mom, I’ll call you as soon as we get back to DC.” It was time for me to say goodbye to my family and at the moment my mom wasn’t doing a very good job of reining in her emotions in front of Logan. I was now supposed to call her on my way to San Francisco, while there
and
when I arrived back in DC. Typical mom stuff. My dad rescued me from my mom’s grip and pulled me into one of his own. “Have fun in San Francisco and be careful.”

“I will D
ad. We’ll be fine,” I said against his chest. As soon as my dad let me go, I was pulled right back in by Danielle. “I’ll miss you sis,” she murmured. “And don’t forget to follow your heart, not your head.” I had every intention of following her advice this time. I didn’t know how long I’d feel guilty about how I’d handled the pregnancy bomb, but I had every intention of making it up to Logan. He really was a good man.

Now that we were going to San Francisco, I hoped Logan would open up to me more about everything that happened. We’d never really had the chance to talk about his grandparents or how it really impacted his relationship with his father. Most of the time he clammed up before we could ever get to the root of the problem. Maybe us taking this trip together would be an opportunity for me to try to help him work through some things. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried that the guilt Logan felt would one day consume him completely. He had such a good heart, but the guilt that he carried around would be too much for anyone to bear. I doubted I could ever comprehend the depths of his pain, but I was determined to be there to support him any way I could.

Brooklyn

Eight hours later Logan pulled the car up near the perfectly manicured grass. We’d finally made it up the coast and I was all too eager to stretch my legs. Instead of flying, we opted to drive so I could take pictures as we made our way up the coast. We actually got really lucky and found a cool little place on the water to have lunch.

As happy as I was to be freed from the confines of the car, as soon as my feet hit the pavement somberness washed over me. I watched the cypress trees planted around the cemetery swayed in the distance.

“They’re over here,” Logan said solemnly, grabbing my hand. This place was much nicer than any cemetery I’d ever been to. Trees hovered over individual gravestones in a protective stance.

Logan led me across the grass to a small archway. The playful version of my Logan—the one I’d driven up the coast with—was replaced by a sadder one.

“Logan, you know you can’t blame yourself, right?”

“Yes, I can” he said, kneeling down and brushing dirt off the top of Sheila’s gravestone.

“Why would you say that?”

“Because it
was
my fault” he said, looking up at me.

“Natural disasters are nobody’s fault.”

“The reason we were even on the bridge was my fault.”

“I need you to stop being so cryptic. What are you talking about?”

“The day of the quake, we were running late.”

“Okay.”

“We were running late because of me. Pépé told me and Scott to be ready, but that day I couldn’t find my baseball glove. If I’d done as he asked, I would’ve been ready, and we would have never been on that bridge at that time.”

My heart cried for the man I loved. I knew none of this was his fault, and it was time for him to know it too. It wasn’t rational the way he kept holding on to this guilt. He was just a little kid—and kids run late all the time.

It wasn’t his fault.

I knelt down beside him and forced him to look at me.

“You can’t do this. You can’t play the blame game. Everything happens for a reason. You’re one of the most thoughtful, caring and kind people I know. You can’t continue to live your life blaming yourself for something that you had no control over. You were ten, Logan. You’ve seen things that no child should ever have to see or experience, but you survived. And I’m positive your grandparents would be so happy and proud to know that you and Scott are thriving. Babe, you can’t possibly expect to move forward if you’re always looking back to what should have been.”

I hated seeing him like this. He didn’t deserve to feel like the weight of their lives rested on his shoulders. In that moment I hated Logan’s father, for making his son think what happened was his fault—could’ve
ever
been his fault.

Logan nodded but didn’t say anything. He just turned back around and focused all his energy on the miniscule amount of dust layered on Lucas and Sheila’s gravestones.

“Hi, Pépé.” Logan whispered. “Nana. Seems like they’re taking good care of you guys here. I’m glad to see that.” We sat down on the grass in front of their headstones. I hadn’t been to many cemeteries. I guess we just didn’t have many deaths in my family. The idea of talking to someone who was in the ground made me curious. I believed in God, and Heaven and Hell. I had to believe that there was some place better…where my baby girl ended up. I think it was the whole talking to the dead thing—it threw me off a little bit. Who knew if a person’s soul could hear you or not? I didn’t.

“Why do you call him that? Pépé?”

Logan chuckled, “Because that’s his name. That’s all I ever knew him as. My grandfather was half French so I assume that’s where the name came from. Come to think of it, I was the only one who ever called him that. Scott just called him Grampa.”

Logan and I sat quietly for a few minutes. I didn’t want him to feel rushed to say whatever it was that he felt like he needed to say. My fingers pulled at the grass blades next to me as I looked around the grounds until I
realized that I was defiling someone’s resting place. I abruptly slammed my hands into my lap. I didn’t know why I was so nervous. I guess it was because I didn’t spend much time at cemeteries.

After what seemed like an eternity, Logan began to speak again. “Well Pépé, I have someone I want you to meet.”

My ears perked up in surprise. I had no idea this was why he wanted to bring me to the cemetery. I thought he just wanted to pay his respects. “This,” Logan grabbed my hand firmly, “is Brooklyn, or B for short.” I brushed my fingertips over his skin. I wished that they were still around for him. They were the key to the whole mess between him and his father. “Nana, I think you’d like her, too. She actually knows how to make a great Lasagna, just like you.” The warm smile that appeared across his face made me clutch his hand tighter.

Logan turned to me. “Can you keep them company for a couple minutes? I forgot Nana’s flowers in the car.”

I turned to him in surprise. ”Um, okay.”

“I’ll be right back.” Logan stood and walked back towards the rental car.

Keep them company?
What was I supposed to say? When Logan was out of earshot, I decided to give the whole speaking-to-the-dead a shot because surprisingly, there was something I wanted to say. “Mr. Colton. It’s nice to meet you,” I whispered. Using a low voice didn’t make me feel any less awkward about talking into the open air.

“You both have an awesome grandson…but he misses you every day, with every breath. So if you can hear me, please heal his heart because I can’t repair him alone. So if you’re there, just send some good vibes his way so he knows it’s okay for him to move on without the guilt.”

The sound of grass being crushed made me turn around quickly to find Logan standing behind me. I brought my gaze up to meet his. He didn’t have to say anything because his eyes told me everything. He’d heard what I told his grandparents.

“Hey” I said, wiping my eye swiftly, “Got the flowers?”

“Yep,” he said, kneeling down and placing the purple Lilacs into the vase connected to the gravestone.

“Were you listening to me?”

“I just heard the end,” he answered honestly.

“I didn’t mean—
“Logan brought his sad eyes to mine with acknowledgement. I could tell he knew I was right, but would he listen? Without another word he helped me up from where I was seated on the grass.

He gently brushed a few tendrils of hair away from my face. I needed him to understand why I said what I did.

“Babe—I know what pain feels like. When I lost my baby, I thought I would never breathe again.  I know what it’s like to be cut wide open and have a cattle iron brand your heart—forever…but because of you I‘ve had the chance to learn about forgiveness…and love.” I reached out and cupped his face.

“Nothing you do will ever bring back your grandparents, no matter how badly you want it to.”

His sad green eyes, met my own. “For all the things I know how to do right, I don’t know how to let them go. I feel like moving on would mean forgetting…and they mean too much to forget.”

“There
is
a difference between forgiving and forgetting. “ I softly caressed Logan’s cheek with my palm, “You have to forgive yourself, Logan. I love you too much to see you not. We both have things we will probably always struggle with…but we both have to be stronger than the anger or guilt because love is always greater than any loss.” Logan pulled me to him and hugged me tighter than he ever had before. I clutched his shirt and held him tighter, too because no matter how far either of us fell, I promised him I would never walk away. And that was exactly what I meant.

Logan caressed my face and smiled weakly. “You want to get out of here?”

“Are you sure?” I hadn’t intended to say anything that would make him feel worse than he already did.

Without looking at me he answered, “Let’s go.”

“Where are we?” I asked. Logan had been quiet ever since we left the cemetery. I didn’t know what to do to snap him out of his funk. My conversation with his grandparents wasn’t meant to force him to not care about what happened to them. I just hated seeing him drag the guilt with him everywhere he went because he was too good a person for that.

“Presidio Heights.” He said the name like those words were supposed to mean something to me.

“Okay. Are we almost close to the hotel?”

“We’re staying at my grandparents’ house. We’ll be there in a few more minutes”

I couldn’t hide my surprise. “The house is still in the family?”

“Yeah, my Mom insisted we keep it. It was supposed to be a vacation property but nobody ever comes out here, except the cleaning lady who keeps it up for times like this.”

“Oh.” Before I could tell him that I didn’t think it was a good idea for us to stay at the house after what happened at the cemetery, he was turning into a driveway that ended in front of a beautiful stone-faced home.

“We’re here,” he said, cutting the engine. The house was not what I was expecting at all. The tan one story sat directly across from the Golden Gate Bridge. People would kill for that kind of view. Seeing this lay out made me think that Logan’s family was much more well-off than what I’d ever comprehended before. Not that it mattered. But still.

“Babe,” I started, “Are you going to be okay with staying here?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Um….” I bit the inside of my lip. “I’m sure this place holds a lot of memories for you. I just don’t want the guilt washing over you again.”

“Again? It never leaves, Starburst.” He opened the car door and climbed out, ending our conversation. I got out and waited for Logan as he grabbed our things from the trunk. I could tell this was not the time to bring up what happened at the cemetery, but knew that was a discussion we needed to have. Logan wanted me to be able to move on from my past hurts, so at some point he was going to have to take his own advice and do the same.

We stopped at the front door and Logan grabbed a key from underneath a potted plant.

“Sneaky.” I didn’t even attempt to hide my sarcasm.

“Best security system, ever!” he joked and slid the key into the lock. He pushed open the door. “I know I don’t have to tell you this, but make yourself at home.”

I stepped past him into the wide open living room, with big beautiful windows overlooking the property. “This place is beautiful.” I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the perfectly landscaped garden with San Francisco as its backdrop. The view was gorgeous, but what made my breath catch in my throat was the family portrait hanging over the fire place. I could only presume those were his grandparents with the rest of his family. I heard the thud of our luggage on the wooden floor and then felt Logan behind me.

“That was so long ago,” he whispered.

“Yeah, how old were you?”

‘Six or so. I can’t remember exactly.” Logan looked so young. He still had the same piercing green eyes that made my insides sing and the same mesmerizing smile on his face. Even as a child.

“You were a very handsome six year-old,” I observed.

“Sounds like someone’s trying to rob the cradle.”

“Uh, excuse me! That’d be you. I’m three years younger than you.”

“Guess you’re right. Let’s get unpacked. Our room is downstairs.” I was surprised to find that hidden away on the side of the kitchen, there was a set of stairs that led to a spacious master suite that opened up onto a private garden patio. I walked over to the sliding door and stepped outside. It was so peaceful and quiet. The patio was like a miniature oasis.

“Me and Scott used to hide over there whenever we were trying to freak out Pépé when he was supposed to be watching us while my grandmother went out.” Logan pointed to a small patch of bushes in the corner. “In the beginning it took him forever to find us, but then he got smart and we had to find a completely new spot. Scott always gave up our hiding spot way too early.”

I giggled as he recounted the story. Me and Danielle had similar stories, but ours always revolved around hiding my dad’s car keys. Dad wasn’t happy the time I admitted to flushing them down the toilet. It had seemed like a good idea at the time.

At that moment, I found myself wondering what types of things my kids would do to make me want to pull my hair out and ship them off to Antarctica. My thoughts caught me off guard. I hadn’t really considered having a family after my miscarriage. I didn’t know what made me think about having a family. I guess it was being surrounded by all of Logan’s memories. I wondered if one day we’d have some family memories of our own.