Soda almost spattered from my mouth. I swallowed, wincing at the burn as it slid down my throat.
“Sold?”
His jaw dropped, eyes widening. “Oh, darling, I’m sorry. I thought your mom told you.”
“Told me what!? She’s selling the house!?” I nearly shrieked.
Can this week get any worse?
That house was as much a sanctuary as my grandparents’. Why would she want to sell it?
“We talked about living here together, but thought it best to make a fresh start in our own place—build new memories together, in a place to grow old in.”
“Right,” was all I could say. A change of subject was needed as the cruel sting of bittersweet tears hit me. Before they could fall, I decided to go for the giant elephant in the room.
“Any word on Kurt’s case?”
The look on his stunned face served exactly the purpose I needed, settling my blossoming tears. The man worked at the prison where Kurt had died. He had to know something.
“Ah.” He swiped his cheek with his hand, his eyes looking everywhere but at me. “I can’t really talk about that.”
I sat up straighter in the chair. He did know something.
Flipping to the doe-eyed expression my grandfather could never turn away from, I batted my eyelashes. Sad eyes got a lot out of a man—especially one planning to marry your mother.
George’s lips quirked despite his grunt of disapproval at my tactic. “This is strictly off the record, and if you repeat
any
of it, I’ll deny ever telling you. Got it?”
My head bobbed, a grin firmly in place. “Got it. Lips sealed.”
He took a second before he spoke, worrying me that he was having second thoughts.
“The DA has nothing but the cellmate’s statement, which claims Kurt told him that if anything happened to him, Logan West was behind it. A few of his buddies inside corroborated that as well. But those ones won’t stick; it's just hearsay. The cellmate’s is the focus.”
My frown was instant. I already knew all that. But before I could tell him so, he continued.
“I’m sorry, but between that, Logan’s priors, and the rumors spreading that Kurt’s trip to the infirmary during his last stint was somehow related to Logan, it looks like the DA is moving forward.”
“Forward?” I gasped.
George nodded once, his eyes soft. “Not sure when, but they’re about to announce your boyfriend as an official suspect and bring him down to the station.”
I couldn’t breathe. “Priors?”
He nodded again, the movement disturbing me further. How could he sit there so calmly while I was a bundle of kindling, doused dangerously with lighter fluid?
“Logan has a couple arrests on record for assault. One was with a deadly weapon—he beat a man with a baseball bat.”
“What?” The word escaped as a soft, unbelieving whisper that hung between us.
“I’m sorry, but I’ve already told you too much.”
He stood and I leapt up, blocking him from leaving the room.
“You love my mother, right?” I demanded, my voice cracking.
He hit me again with that damn nod, although this time it was slow. His features were wary; he was unsure where I was going with my question.
“Going to buy a home together probably means you’re planning to marry her, yeah?” I continued.
“Cassandra—”
“That makes you family.” I raised my chin, demanding his full attention. “I know we’re practically strangers, but family helps each other out and sticks together. And if you’re going to be part of mine, that makes you part of Logan’s, because he’s
my
family—my world. And there’s a precious little boy involved that depends on his father. So please tell me everything.”
George’s posture drooped, and his sigh was troubled. I wasn’t sure what his next move would be. He stared at me a moment more, then moved back to his seat, looking conflicted. The relief I felt when he sat back down was overwhelming.
I followed his actions, sitting up straight on the edge of my seat, my watery eyes on him.
“Your mom looked into him when you two got close.”
A memory of her mentioning this suddenly usurped my thoughts—or maybe it had been more of a warning. Regardless, I’d brushed it off at the time.
“And?”
“One was just a bar fight—something about Logan hitting on another man’s girlfriend. Both of them were drunk, fists flew, cops were called. Simple as that. The other one, though…Logan went after a man for no apparent reason—attacked him outside of a gym, broke his hands. Used a baseball bat and shattered his ribs.”
My breath caught. There wasn’t a single place in my head where a violent image of Logan could reside. It wasn’t possible.
“Why would he do that?”
“That’s the thing: Neither Logan nor the victim would explain. Weirder than that, a few days later, the victim dropped all charges. It’s still on file, though. Something like that doesn’t go away.”
“That’s everything?” I murmured, almost afraid of the answer.
“Yeah, that’s all I got. Again, I’m sorry, Cassandra. Anything I can do to help, I’m here. Your mother went to talk to Logan last Saturday. She wouldn’t tell me what he told her—she said it was personal—but whatever it was, she’s on his side. And that’s all I need to know to trust the man.”
Unsure what else there was to say and not wanting to face my mother right then, I stood on wobbly legs. My voice was distant when I spoke.
“Thanks. Tell my mom I stopped by, please.”
I never heard his response. Dazed, I walked outside, inhaling gulp after gulp of cool air to stop the sputtering of my errant thoughts.
Operating on autopilot, I drove a few blocks ahead and pulled off into a small park, then dialed on my phone. There was one person who knew Logan even better than I did.
It rang multiple times before it went to voicemail. I dialed the same number incessantly until Caleb’s angry voice shouted back.
“WHAT!?”
“Why did Logan nearly beat a man to death!?” It was a hell of a greeting—not that his was much better. But it was clear I was interrupting something.
“Shit, one sec.” I heard rustling, and his voice dissolved into the background. “Don’t even
think
about moving that ass, understand? Good. I’ll be right back.”
Another moment passed before he spoke again—this time to me. “What’s going on, Cassie?”
“Logan’s in trouble.”
“Yeah, I heard. Good news is he’s innocent, and your man has more connections than anyone I know. He’ll be fine.”
“No, he won’t. It’s not official yet, but…he’s going to be named the official suspect.”
There was a long pause. “Shit. All right, listen to me: Logan will get through this, okay? Just give him some space to work it out. Now, I gotta go.”
“Are you
kidding
me!?” I snapped, no longer able to keep it in. “He’s supposed to be your best friend! He’s running the paper, raising a son, and dealing with possible murder charges all on top of handling
your
shit at Haven! Real good friend you are!”
“Damn, don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear before. Bet Logan loves that.” He sounded impressed, which only sent my rage higher.
“You need to come home, with Hilary, and man up!”
“I don’t have time for this. Logan knows where to find me, and if he needed me, he’d call, which he has. As far as Haven, you’re right, but I called in two good buddies the other day to come down and watch over the place. We good?”
Now he just sounded bored, which pissed me off even more.
“No! Tell me about the fight. The Logan I know wouldn’t attack an innocent man with a baseball bat.”
“That’s because he didn’t,” he snapped.
“Oh,
right
, so someone else did it?”
“Oh, no, that was all Logan. I was there. He wouldn’t let me do anything other than watch, and it was a hell of a show. But the guy was far from innocent.”
“Keep going.”
He blew out an agitated breath. “Look, this isn’t my story to tell. Talk to Logan.”
“What’s wrong? Don’t want to spill a friend’s
secret
?” I hissed.
“Cassandra.” It was a low warning—and one I ignored.
“No, you stormed into my boyfriend’s house, screaming and pointing fingers, not to mention scaring a four-year-old all because I kept someone
else’s
secret. You owe me!”
Feeling proud for laying it out there, I was hit with a slug to the gut when Caleb had the gall to burst out laughing.
“First of all, Oliver has never and
will
never be afraid of me. Second, you’re right, and I owe you an apology. I lost my cool; Hilary does that to me. But I already paid up for that.”
“Paid up?”
What the hell does that mean?
“You really think Logan let me out of that house without adding to my suffering? Bastard left me walking away with a black eye and split lip.”
“What? Why?” Logan knew Caleb was hurting, desperate to find Hilary, yet he fought him? Whom exactly was I dating?
Caleb chuckled again. “Cassandra, I know Logan, and I knew before I even arrived that morning that he’d make me regret my decision. But I didn’t care. I took both hits and a cheap knee to my gut all while listening to him explain what I already knew: Nobody comes at his woman like I did. It’s why I respect the man.”
“Because he kicked your ass?”
Caleb snickered. “No, because he protects what’s his. And you were doing the same for Hilary: protecting her by keeping that secret. I get it, and I respect you for it. I’m sorry. It’s water under the bridge. So we good now? ’Cause I got some things going on here that need my attention.”
How the hell could he sound so calm? It didn’t matter, but one thing did.
“So you won’t tell me about Logan’s fight with the baseball bat?”
“No, but I’ll help you out.” His voice was friendly, yet impatient. “Talk to Julia.”
“Julia?” That caught me by surprise.
“She’s one of the few people he’d kill for—you should know that. She’ll have your answers. I need to go.”
“No, you
need
to come home and support your friend when he needs it most, like he’s done for you. If you and Hilary are fine now, don’t leave the rest of us
un
fine. And tell Hilary to call—
soon
. She doesn’t get to throw a tit fit, get me verbally attacked, and run off only to be chased and punished with your penis when I haven’t had five minutes with my man in over a week!” I rushed out before he could hang up.
“Not gonna be for a while, but she’ll call.”
The call disconnected. I sank back against my seat, watching kids laughing as they went down the slide one after another. It was tempting to follow suit as I remembered how much easier life was when I was younger. Even with a single mother who worked too much, I at least knew what to expect on a daily basis. Now, I was at a loss.
My world was rocked once again. But at least I’d gotten a few things off my chest.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Control
I walked around the park for over an hour, circling the grounds and even enjoying a hot chocolate with extra whipped cream from the vendor who passed through.
I’d messaged Julia, asking her to meet me, and by the time the sun was setting I was sitting next to her on a bench outside Haven. I’d refused to meet her inside; I wasn’t quite ready to involve Logan, whom I could see sitting at the bar, oblivious to the fact that I was near. I spotted only a broad back covered in a grey T-shirt and short hair with a slight wave, but I recognized him instantly as I stared through the large window in front of the sidewalk.
“So what’s up?” Julia asked, too cheerful for the conversation I was about to explore. But that didn’t stop me. Without peace of mind, I was practically crippled with ‘what if’s.
“I need to ask you something. And I know it’s not my business, but I just…I just need to understand.”
Her smile faltered but didn’t drop. “Sure, what is it?”
“I know about Logan being arrested for attacking a man with a bat. Do you know why he’d do that?”
Julia’s smile vanished that time, a tight frown its gloomy replacement. She was no longer relaxed and jovial; her entire posture had changed. From the look of it, I’d struck an unfriendly chord. She didn’t speak, staring down at her lap and fidgeting with her gloved hands. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, as though neither position was comfortable, then finally cleared her throat and looked over at me with a slight pink hue to her cheeks that wasn’t there before.
“Cassandra, I don’t want to go there. The charges were dropped. I just want to move on.”
My thoughts ran rampant, straight to my worst fear. The image of Kurt holding me down flashed across my mind, and my heart sank.
She’d been hurt. Attacked, maybe—raped?
“I’m so sorry.” Moisture struck my eyes as I spoke, my tone soft and sympathetic. Whatever had happened, Logan was obviously protecting his sister or making the guy pay for hurting her, which were both good-enough reasons for me. “I understand wanting to move on—”
“Wait!” she shrieked, her expression filled with horror. “Stop looking at me like that. I wasn’t hurt or anything. It wasn’t like that.”
“Oh, I just assumed—”
“Logan was pissed because I was sixteen and got a tattoo.”
“What?” My entire face scrunched.
She blew out a long, embarrassed groan. “It was in a back room at some lame party, and I ended up getting an infection. The tattoo artist was like fifty and brought everyone beer and pot. He did a bunch of work that night and said there was no charge for girls.”
“Sounds like a sleaze,” I mumbled.
Her cheeks flushed brighter. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Anyway, I had to go on antibiotics…which led to me having to tell my parents, who told Logan, who went apeshit.”
She lifted her jacket and shirt to reveal a bright-purple shape of what I guessed was supposed to be a butterfly, with crooked wings.
“Did he do it in the dark?” I blurted without thinking.
She dropped her jacket and puffed out an insulted sigh.
“Sorry,” I said, but my apology was too late. I couldn’t help it—that was the worst so-called butterfly I’d ever seen, and definitely qualified for some cover-up work.