TWIN PASSIONS: (A Logan Brothers Novel) (25 page)

Mrs Banks' head slowly arched up
from the files on her desk, every movement so purposeful, so
arrogant. She had such an air of superiority about her, as if no one
else meant anything, as if the fucking ground she walked on was
sacred. Well that ground would soon start crumbling beneath her feet
if she didn't do what I wanted.

“
What is it now Gemma?” she
asked, her voice taut. “Did we not cover everything earlier?”

I looked her dead in the eye. “I
want you to drop the story.”

She looked at me for a moment,
her expression hard, before her facade broke down and she cackled
like a witch. It was such a fake and cracked laugh, rusty and put on.
It sounded like she hadn't laughed for real in years.

“
I'm afraid not Gemma. I've
already told you how important this story is to me,” she said
dismissively, turning her eyes back down to her work.

I began nodding, accepting her
answer. “I did think you'd say that, Martha,” I said casually. “I
know why you want to cause such a stir in the Logan family.”

Her eyes narrowed and turned
back on me, sizing me up. “And what do you mean by that?” Her
voice carried a more sinister edge now.

“
Well, it's common to want to
get revenge on those who wrong you, isn't it? God knows that's why
I'm here.”

“
Wronged me?” she hissed.
“No one has wronged me Gemma, I think you're mistaken.”

I smiled and reached into my bag
as I slowly walked forward towards her desk. “Really? I guess I
must have got things wrong then?” I said, with a hint of sarcasm.
“I mean, I'm no Sherlock Holmes, but I really thought I'd cracked
this case.”

I pulled an image out of my bag
and slowly placed it onto her desk. I could see her eyes light up at
the sight of it as I pushed it towards her.

“
Where...did you get this?”
she growled, her voice shaking slightly.

“
Well I suppose I can thank
you for that Martha. It was you who always urged me to be more
ruthless, go to places other's weren't willing to go. You know,
that's just what I did, and it paid off handsomely.”

Her eyes were looking intensely
at the image as I spoke, deep memories inside them. I could almost
feel the hatred boiling inside her at the sight of her and Charles
Logan, hugging and smiling happily on the beach.

“
You know,” I continued, “I
just might have found the sort of scandal you wanted from me Martha.
Is this good enough? Will I get that promotion now? Martha Banks,
happily married and trusted editor, shared a secret relationship for
years with Charles Logan, himself married and with children. Correct
me if I'm wrong, but a story like this will damage your reputation
severely, will it not? Surely it's something that you want to keep
under wraps?” I was enjoying this now, toying with her as she'd
toyed with me. The hag had had it coming for years.

She looked completely on edge
now, her cool and calm exterior breaking down and showing her for
what she really was: a lonely, broken-hearted old woman, still
clinging to hatred over the man who chose his family ahead of her.

Her lips cracked open, her eyes
still on the picture. “What is it that you want?” she asked, her
voice almost a whisper.

“
Don't play dumb Martha, it
doesn't suit you.” I said. “I've already told you what I want.”

I watched as her mind ran
through her options, looking for a way out. “How about I give you
that promotion....it's what you've always wanted. All of this
business with the Logan twins will blow over in no time. People are
fickle – they go from one scandal to the next. But this promotion
could mean big things for your career...”

She really was a scheming bitch,
always looking for an angle. I stood for a moment, pretending to
consider it, seeing her eyes grow in hope. It all told me one thing:
how desperate she was to keep the truth about her and Charles Logan
from the public eye. I knew, now, that I had her at my feet.

“
I'm sorry Martha, but as
tempting as that offer is, I'm going to have to decline. There's one
thing I want, and one thing only.”

My expression made it clear that
I couldn't be bought, that I wasn't willing to relent. We stood there
for a few seconds, staring at each other. I had the bitch by the
fucking balls now, and I was squeezing, hard.

“
Tell Tara to drop the story,”
I said. “Tell her to delete those photographs she took. Tell her
that if she doesn't, she'll not only lose out on the promotion, but
she'll lose her job as well. You know, just like you did with me.”

Her eyes were growing smaller
and smaller by the second now.

“
Do all of that, and make sure
that this story doesn't come out, and I'll promise to keep your
secret. If, however, anything get's out, I'll take my entire story
straight to the press. I've got a whole write up just waiting to go,
complete with pictures and love letters and everything else in
between. I'm sure they'll be a lot of editors who'd love to get their
hands on a scandal like that.”

I kept my gaze on her, my voice
growing ever more triumphant. “Does that all sound fair to you Mrs
Banks?”

Her thin lips remained tightly
pursed, her eyes burning, as she nodded slowly, reluctantly.

I smiled and walked casually
over towards the door, turning back just as I put my fingers to the
handle.

“
Oh, and one more thing....I
quit.”

Present Day

Zack

It was Tuesday morning when I
stood outside my apartment, packing my car. I wasn't taking much
stuff, only clothes really. I didn't need anything else, this wasn't
a permanent move. No, it would be temporary, although how temporary
it would be I didn't yet know.

I'd spoken to Crash on the phone
later on Monday after I'd got back home from hospital. There was a
sympathetic edge to his voice, as though he felt guilty for telling
me to leave. But I didn't care. After what had happened, I wanted to
go, I wanted to get away.

He said he hadn't told anyone
else I was leaving, and that was fine by me. I didn't want to say
goodbye, I didn't want to look upon any more judging eyes. I just
wanted to turn my back and leave. I didn't know if I'd ever want to
come back.

I hadn't even told Gemma exactly when I'd be going. I told
her that I'd only be gone for a while, but I knew that might not be
the case. She'd begged me to stay, but her words fell on deaf ears. I
loved her, but I couldn't be with her. Not here, not now.

I heaved another bag into my car
and slammed the boot shut. I felt strangely empty, like all of the
strings of my life were being detached, leaving me with no direction,
no plan. I'd always lived my life under orders: at my prison-like
high school, under dad, and now under Crash. Everything I did was
within a structure, part of a plan laid out by someone else. But
now... now I was looking down the open road, no plan in place, no one
directing me.

It felt scary, and yet
liberating. I'd never gone out on my own before, never traveled,
never seen the world. I'd lived my entire life in Branton, growing up
as part of dad's master plan to stretch his influence further and
further. Now I was free - if only for a fleeting time – to be my
own master.

A smile crept up my face at the
thought.
Maybe now my life was only just beginning?

I took a deep breath and opened
the door to the car. This was it, time to leave everything behind. I
didn't know when I'd be coming back, I didn't know what I'd do, I
didn't even know in which direction I'd drive. All of that, all of
that freedom, that uncertainly, made my heart beat harder and
stronger than it ever had.

With one foot through the door I
heard the sound of a car rush up behind me, smashing through the
silence of the street. I turned, more through curiosity than anything
else, to see a cab pull up. When the door opened I felt an immediate
surge in my chest. It was Gemma.

She jumped from the cab and
rushed straight towards me. Her arms wrapped over me tightly, her
breathing heavy and fast. She looked up and spoke hurriedly, her
voice hurt.

“
You'd leave without saying
goodbye? Why didn't you tell me you were leaving so soon?”

I looked down at her wide eyes
and spoke calmly. “How did you know?”

“
Crash told me. I tried
calling you yesterday but you didn't pick up. I called him and he
finally admitted that you were leaving this morning. Why wouldn't you
say something Zack?”

“
Because it's hard Gem. I had
to say goodbye to you once before, remember, and I hated it. I...I
didn't want to go through that again. I thought it would be easier
like this.”

There were tears building in her
eyes now. “But it's OK Zack, you don't have to go. The
story....it's not going to go to print...no one's going to know about
it all. You don't have to worry about that. I tried to tell you
yesterday but you didn't pick up. I even came to your apartment,
Zack, but you weren't in. You don't have to leave.”

I shook my head and put my hands
onto her shoulders to calm her. It didn't matter that the story
wouldn't get out. That wasn't what I really cared about. Nothing
would convince Cade now...that's what really mattered. No, I wanted
to leave, I wanted my life to change.

“
It's not enough Gemma. I have
to leave....I want to leave.”

A tear began sliding down her
cheek now, her brown eyes shining brightly under the morning sun.
“But what about me,” she said, her voice hurt. “Did you mean
what you said yesterday...when you told me you loved me?”

I nodded slowly, my voice low:
“of course I did.”

“
Then why would you leave me?”
she said, her voice beginning to rise, “without even saying
goodbye!”

I took her by the hands,
steadying her eyes on me. “I do love you Gemma....but nothing can
happen with us here. I know that now. I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye,
but I have to leave...I have to go.”

Her eyes started to change,
lighting up as a smile appeared across her face. “You really do
love me?”

I nodded again.

She turned and walked back
towards the cab, still rumbling quietly behind us. I watched on as
she climbed in, waiting for the door to shut, waiting to see her
drive off for the last time, once more disappearing from my life.

But she didn't. No, she climbed
back out again, pulling a suitcase out of the car as she did. She
looked up at me, a beaming smile now flashing across her face, and
walked forward towards me once more.

“
If you're leaving....then I'm
coming with you. If we can't be together here, maybe...we can be
together somewhere else?” Her words were confident, but remained
unsure as she looked wide-eyed at me, awaiting my response.

I didn't need to respond with
words. I stepped forward, sliding my hand onto her cheek, still
streaked with drying tears, and kissed her. I heard her drop the bag, her arms and legs wrapped around me as she jumped into the air.

I leaned my head back and stared
into her sparkling eyes. “So which way to you wanna go?” I asked,
her smile growing even wider.

“
South," she said, "let's go South.”

8 Years Ago

Gemma

I sat in the yard outside school
on a bench, the warm summer sunshine settling comfortably on my
exposed shoulders. Beyond the yard was a wide wood, with glowing
green trees and a tranquil, beautiful lake, nestled deep within. It
was Friday and the end of another week, and Zack and I were doing
what we often did at this time: we were going swimming.

I could hear the sound of other
kids behind me, all shouting and chattering loudly as they were
picked up by their parents or hurrying off in groups in search of
trouble. Maybe Zack would get into trouble later, but not yet, not
until we'd had our customary swim.

I felt a pair of hands suddenly
descend over my eyes, blocking out the light of the sun, and a smile
creased my lips.

“
Guess who?” came the voice
behind me. It was bright and breezy and so full of life.

I turned around quickly and saw
Zack standing there, his backpack slung over one shoulder, his face
tanned and beaming in a wide, white smile.

“
Well come on then!” he said
excitedly, “we're not going to get to the lake by sitting on a
bench!”

He ran around the side of the
bench and grabbed my hands, pulling me up to my feet. We began
walking together, his arm hanging lazily over my shoulder, into the
woods. The sound of swaying branches and rustling leaves filled the
air, with birds darting this way and that, stopping to chirp and sing
in the foliage above our heads.

We spoke as we went, catching up
on the week just passed. It was my favorite time of the week: a time
when we could walk and talk, alone, with no one else around. Soon I'd
have to go home, my time restricted by my parents' draconian curfew,
but for now it was just the two of us, and I loved every minute of
it.