Page 74 of Consuming Logan

Logan jerked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ve been drinking.” That was true, but he’d only had two shots at Drury’s before making the drive from the city to the beaches. “Which means you’ll probably say or do something that’s damn near impossible to take back. Go home, Logan.”

“Don’t lecture me. All these years you’ve been pretending to be about family. Are you divorcing mom because she won’t accept your bastard sons?”

Robert Lee came to his feet. “Of my three sons, you hold the title of bastard,” his father shot back.

“Me! Have you looked at mom?” Logan said, refusing to lose ground. “She’s hurting.”

“About time she joins her own club. You and your mother are drowning in your own illusions. You are selfish and blinded by ambition. You and all your great plans. How’s that working for you? Get the hell out of here,” he spat. “If you still have her, go take care of your wife-to-be.”

Logan stiffened at the insult. He wouldn’t lose Ava. Not like his father had done. Approaching the solid wood table with six upholstered chairs, he faced off with the man he called dad.

“I take care of Ava just fine,” he rasped.

Robert Lee pulled the half-moon glasses off his nose. “So, you noticed how tired she looks?” Yeah, he had. She was pregnant. Most women complained of fatigue during pregnancy. “She’s what,” his father questioned, “seven and a half months pregnant? You’re a doctor…has the woman carrying your children gained enough weight? I can tell you I took care of both my wives when they held a piece of me inside them. Can you say the same?”

Logan swallowed, not liking how the conversation had somehow turned to his failings.

“Ava is fine,” he growled. She would have told him if she wasn’t alright.

“And, you know this to be true how? You finally stopped whining about your hand and gave her some support.”

Robert Lee’s fist connected with the table. Utensils tumbled to the tile floor, clanging loud like a gong. Logan stood paralyzed. Having never witnessed his father’s wrath, he wasn’t sure how to react. “Or how about you wrap your head around the fact that you have two children on the way. Two human beings who are totally relying on you to chart a path for them beyond what’s in your plan.”

Whoa, when had his father started throwing punches? He couldn’t remember a time when this man wasn’t in his corner. In the back of his mind, Logan questioned if he’d taken the right course of action. This felt wrong, but he wanted answers. As the eldest son, he should have been told about his father’s indiscretion. Logan steeled his resolve.

“I came here to talk to you about Tyson and Maximus.”

Just then Maribelle burst through the door.

“What’s going on out here?” Then her gaze shot from his father to him. “Logan,” she breathed. “You know about your brothers?”

“Yes, I know about Tyson and the blood transfusion.”

Logan stared at his mother. How had she learned the truth about her unfaithful husband? Had she caught him in the act? Or had one of the country club minions taken pleasure in gossiping about her humiliation? Probably the former. Was this the fuel for his mother’s explosive temper and chronic drinking? When he and Darwin were boys, his mother missed nothing when it came to their exploits. As they grew into adulthood, time had changed little. She’d known of her husband’s sin, yet she’d stayed. Logan thought of Brooke Tyler, a shard of pain sliced through the memory. He’d often compared her calloused treatment of his love, to Maribelle’s open hostility with Robert Lee. His father had earned a woman’s scorn. Logan had not.

He turned hard eyes on his father. “So, about your sons?”

He knew the answer, but he wanted to hear his father’s acknowledgment. See the, what…remorse at having another son.

“Your brothers,” Robert Lee hissed. “You afford them the same respect they have always afforded you.”

“And their mother?”

“Came before I met your mother. She remarried after Maximus’s birth. Her husband gave the boys his last name. But they have always known they are mine.” Logan watched as pride, not remorse, glimmered in his father’s eyes. How could he betray his family this way? “Tyson is my firstborn.”

Logan felt the blow like a headshot from Iron Mike Tyson. He physically stumbled, the hit so devastating it rocked more than his balance. The very foundation of his existence tilted. It was all gone. He was the first son of Doctor and Mrs. Robert Lee Masters, who was he?

“He’s the oldest?” Logan heard himself ask.

How could that be? Logan held the mantle as the firstborn son. He held the responsibility of securing the Masters name. “How?”

“You know I studied abroad for two years. I met and married, Therese. The marriage didn’t last, but they are not bastards. If anything, you and Darwin were the secret babies.”

A shaky breath escaped Logan’s heaving chest. He was a damn secret baby. His father had remained true to his mom. So, why had she lied to him? Anger replaced outrage.

Logan turned to Maribelle. “You knew…all this time that I had an older brother? You let me believe I was first.”