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Everyone was silent for a moment. I could hear Robbie and Logan’s labored breathing as their heart rates slowed, and watched as Abby shook her head and backed out of the room. Logan nudged Knox to follow her and he did, disappearing around a corner and calling out to her.
The five of us stood there quietly as Robert looked back and forth between his two sons. He looked disappointed, but more than that, he looked confused. “Logan, I think it’s best you go home. Everyone just needs some time to process things.”
“I’m being excused?” Logan looked shocked, but even he couldn’t mask the hurt on his face as he wiped the blood from under his nose. He came here to be honest and he was being shooed out because he didn’t tell everyone what they wanted to hear.
“I’ll call you later.” Robert spoke through gritted teeth.
“Don’t bother. I don’t have anything to say to you. And as for you,” he jerked his chin toward his brother. “Your head is clearly so far up your ass that you’re acting just like our old man. Always throwing a tantrum when you don’t get your way.”
Logan walked over to me and gave me a hard look, clearly trying to mask his hurt the only way he knew how; with sarcasm and vehement anger. “Let’s get out of here, babe.”
I nodded my head, but he was already out the door and moving toward his car. I was following him, was nearly out the door, when I heard Genevieve say, “We always knew that boy was up to no good.”
I don’t know why I did it, don’t know why my fierce protectiveness for Logan decided to rear its head now, of all times. But suddenly I was turning and fixing her with the coldest glare I could possibly muster. “Up to no good? Seriously? Your son is helping young women get clean and sober and you call that no good? He’s risking his own safety for people he doesn’t know just so they can get a second chance at life, but that isn’t good enough for you?”
Some mean, sinister part of me was satisfied when I saw the shock cross her face. “I don’t know who you think you’re talking to-”
“I don’t know who I think I’m talking to either. Because I think you’re supposed to be his mother and love him unconditionally. I think it’s wrong to accuse your son of being a junkie because of his behavior. And I think it was so wrong of all of you to trap him here like this. Logan was honest about his life and his health, and instead of showing support you shun him even more than you already have.”
Genevieve, who was red faced and getting more pissed off by the second, squared her shoulders and cleared her throat. “Get out, Ms. Foster. You are not welcome here.”
I smiled, but there was nothing sweet about it. “Yeah, apparently your son isn’t welcome here either.”
The harsh wind blew my hair across my face as I jogged to the car, throwing myself into the passenger seat as Logan reversed out of the driveway. The tires squealed against the pavement and I was sure it would leave black tracks on the pristine driveway, but some petty part of me was happy about it.
The drive back home was quiet and I bounced my knee, jittery. For whatever reason, I found myself tearing up at the fact that Logan was so alone. Because I knew how awful it felt. I knew how all consuming that loneliness could be and I didn’t want that for him. Not having a family to turn to and going home to an empty house every night. Not having someone to call when something exciting happens. Hell, not having someone to call when something bad happens. Logan was secretive and spent most of his time with a guard up, but he was a good person. He was someone who didn’t deserve to be shunned by his own blood. Truthfully, I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Well, except Conlon. I was wishing a lot of bad things for him.
“Hey,” he said softly as he parked the car in his designated spot. “J, you alright?”
I nodded and smiled, but my chin quivered and I looked down at my hands folded in my lap.
?
??Talk to me.”
I shook my head.
“Juliette.”
“They’re so mean to you!” I finally howled, tears streaming down my cheeks. I angrily tried to wipe them away. “Your mother… she… she’s so…”
“Bitchy?” he offered.
I only cried harder, brokenhearted for him.
“Jesus, hey, come here.” Logan unclipped my seatbelt and pulled my arm until I crawled over the center console and sat in his lap. “It’s okay. It really is. It… it doesn’t bother me the way it used to.”
I sniffled and wrapped my arms around his neck, uncertain as to whether I was crying for him, me, or both of us. He slid his hand under my jacket and then under my shirt, his warm palm rubbing my back. I had to admit that the skin to skin contact was soothing, keeping me grounded and calming me down.
We stayed like that for a while with his arms around me and my face pressed to his neck, inhaling his scent. I felt his heart beating against my chest and it was some comforting that I could have fallen asleep then and there. But even I knew we’d be much comfier in bed.
“Let’s go inside,” I said when I pulled back, tracing his mouth with the tip of my finger. “I’ll make dinner.”
Logan’s eyes met mine and he licked the tip of my finger before grabbing my hand and kissing my open palm. “You know, I think I lucked out with you.”
“Oh, yeah?” I asked as we got out of the car and walked down the dock. “Why is that?”
“You want to make me dinner. You make sure I take my meds when I need to. You give the best head I’ve ever had.” He laughed and then stopped, pulling me against him. “And you’re the first person who has ever stepped up to Genevieve Ashford.”
