I nodded once more with a tight smile, then headed to the coat check. I was exhausted and ready to climb into bed—Logan’s bed.
Chapter Eighteen
Running
I woke up in Logan’s arms, inhaling his masculine scent and trying to ignore the pounding present both in my temple and at his front door.
“Shit,” Logan grumbled, then flung the blanket from his side of the bed and stood.
The doorbell rang not just once, but twice in a row. My head dug further into my pillow, blocking it out.
“Stay here,” he said, crossing the room. “I’m going to kick someone’s ass.”
The banging continued between the constant rings of the bell. Someone
has no patience.
One of Jax’s friends, I assumed.
I rolled my head slightly, enjoying the view of Logan slipping into his white pajama pants. I smiled, memorizing the magnificent sight.
After he’d thrown the bedroom door open and stormed into the hall, I snatched my phone from the night table. My head protested the movement, so I kept it down on the pillow. I’d drunk too much the previous night, and barely recalled the drive home. Hilary had been quiet the entire time. She’d dropped me at Logan’s, and he was there in the doorway to welcome me in. The rest was a blur of pleasure.
Focusing back on my phone, I sighed. It was a little after eight o’clock, and I had twelve missed calls from Caleb and one text from Hilary.
Panic set in, and I instantly regretted turning my ringer off at Haven. Despite my assailing hangover pain, I sat up straight.
Nervously, I touched the screen to open the text.
I’m sorry. Don’t hate me.
As soon as I read it, I heard Caleb’s voice, loud and angry, echoing up through the floorboards.
“Where the hell is she!? Tell Cassandra I want to talk to her—NOW!”
I couldn’t hear what followed next. Logan must’ve been speaking to him, and in an appropriate indoor voice. Trembling with uncertainties, I texted Hilary back, my fingers sprinting over the keys.
Where r u? Call me asap! Caleb is here!
Something crashed downstairs and I jerked up further, sweeping my legs off the bed. My pulse raced.
“Cassandra, get your ass down here!” I heard Caleb shout, which was followed immediately by another loud boom.
Like a child heading in for punishment, I slipped on my robe, tightened its belt, and made my way down the hall. I stood at the top of the stairs, my jaw dropping at the scene below me.
A vase from the foyer was shattered across the marble floor, picture frames scattered around it. Caleb charged toward the stairs, dangerous eyes pinned on me. I froze, panic surging, ready to bolt just as Logan intervened, throwing him back.
“Don’t!” Logan threatened, blocking the first step. Then he called out over his shoulder, “You know where Hilary is, sweetheart?”
Blood rushed to my ears, loud and spiteful.
She really did it—she left him.
My stomach churned, hands slipping inside the pockets of my robe as I shifted from foot to foot.
“Um, I—”
“For fuck’s sake, WHERE IS SHE!?” Caleb roared. “Something’s wrong—don’t you dare lie to me! What is it, huh!? TELL ME!”
“Watch your fucking tone, or I’ll throw you out and you can find her yourself,” Logan warned him, in a voice so hard and intimidating my skin flushed with goose bumps.
Caleb was panting with rage, fists pumping at his sides. “My girl up and takes off before dawn leaving only a note, and I’m supposed to be okay with that!?”
Logan moved closer to Caleb and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I get that you’re angry and worried, but you
will
back off Cassandra or you’re gone.”
Caleb shoved Logan’s hand away and stormed backward. It wasn’t just anger radiating off him, though—he looked lost, confused, and worst of all sad. I couldn’t stand it.
“I’m sorry,” I managed finally, barely above a shamed whisper. “She was fine last night. What did you say when she told you? You must have done something to provoke her to leave.”
“
Told
me? She didn’t say a word. I woke up to a Dear John letter explaining she had a sick aunt she was going to take care of and that she’d be back in a few months. Months! Who the hell leaves in the middle of the night for
months
? Something is up, and I want to know what!”
I stood there, baffled. “Wait, but then…” She hadn’t told him.
What the hell did I miss last night?
As far as I knew, she was planning to tell him about the baby that morning.
A door in the hall opened, and Oliver’s head peeked out. I started toward him, stopping when I saw Jax leaning against the opposite wall. He’d been listening. The moment he saw Oliver, he went to him, lifting him up and carrying him toward me.
“Look who’s up!” Jax broadcasted for everyone to hear.
“Morning, Cassie,” Oliver squeaked after finishing a yawn.
“Morning, sunshine.”
“It’s loud,” he complained, scrunching his nose.
“Don’t worry, Daddy’s gonna make it quiet,” Jax told him as he carried Oliver past me and down the steps.
Caleb shoved his hands in his pockets and dropped his head.
“It’s all right. Caleb accidentally knocked a few things over,” Logan explained, not taking his gaze off Caleb. “You want some scrambled eggs for breakfast?”
“Yeah, and chocolate milk!” Oliver looked down at the mess on the floor. “You ’kay, Caleb?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, buddy. Just clumsy.” Caleb managed a semblance of a smile for him. “My bad.”
“Come on, let’s get you fed,” Jax said through the unbearable tension, carrying Oliver into the kitchen.
I descended the steps with wobbly movements. My throat was parched and my head throbbed worse than before, but all I could see was the grim display on Caleb’s face. It wasn’t my place to tell him, but how could I not?
I stopped midway down, closed my eyes, and drew in a shaky breath, unsure where to start.
Damn you, Hilary!
“Why don’t you come have some breakfast, let Cassandra wake up, and then we can talk,” Logan said calmly. It was a statement, not a question.
“Please, Cassandra, just tell me where she is.” Caleb moved toward me as I reached the foyer, but Logan was there in front of me again, his protectiveness tangible.
“Is she leaving me? Did I do something?” Caleb’s brows pulled down as if he was scouring his mind for an answer—a spark of memory to mollify his fears.
“Come on! Breakfast time!” Oliver’s voice rang out.
Logan took my hand and led me away to the kitchen. Once there, he pulled me in close, our eyes connecting as his hands settled on my hips. He leaned in and whispered, “Whatever is going on, I want to know everything. I don’t do secrets, Cassandra.”
He was angry—or was it disappointment I saw flash in his eyes? There was no time to decipher it before he pulled away and went to the fridge, grabbing a carton of eggs.
I sat across from Jax at the table, scanning my brain numbly for the best way to tell Caleb the truth. He had followed us into the room and was leaning against the wall, typing on his phone. To Hilary, I presumed.
“How many eggs?” Oliver asked, then counted the fingers we all held up. Even Caleb held up two and shot Oliver a wink when he added them all up correctly.
Shit. Hit. Fan,
Jax mouthed in my direction. I narrowed my eyes but didn’t reply.
We all ate together with Oliver as the conversationalist of the group; no one else spoke. We were just finishing when the doorbell rang.
Logan cursed under his breath, then went to stand.
“I’ll grab it,” Jax said, dropping his plate in the sink on the way out.
I glanced at Logan beside me. He was staring blankly down at his empty plate. I’d never seen him so quiet.
Under the table, I reached over and placed my hand on his thigh. He didn’t move—didn’t even look my way to relieve some of my anxiety. He wasn’t making it easy, which pissed me off. I needed him to trust me and give me a sign of comfort, but instead he was blocking me out. Did he really think I had secrets from him? This was the only one—and it wasn’t mine to tell.
Irritated, I removed my hand and stood. As I walked to the sink with my plate, Jax reappeared.
But he wasn’t alone.
“Morning.”
“Mom!” Oliver flew from his seat and raced to her, his arms wide. She dropped down on her haunches and giggled when he reached her, squeezing tightly.
“Looks like I was too late. I’d been hoping to take Oliver to breakfast,” she explained.
“Then you should have asked yesterday.” Logan’s voice was harsh as he stood.
“Sorry, you’re right. Maybe I can take him to dinner tomorrow after school?” she asked, releasing Oliver and straightening.
“I’ll let you know,” was all Logan said.
“Well, maybe I can hang out now for a little while and play with him?”
“Fine, but he stays in the house,” Logan said. He turned to Oliver, his features softening. “Go get dressed, and make sure to brush your teeth.”
“’Kay! Be right back. Don’t leave—promise?” Oliver’s eyes were big and bright as he stared at Natasha.
She smiled. “Promise.”
Appeased, he ran out of the room.
Caleb was on his feet crossing the room in the same instant. He stopped in front of me.
“Now—let’s talk.”
I nodded, chewing my bottom lip. I had to tell him—and as scared as I was of how he’d react, he deserved the truth.
“Living room?” I suggested for privacy’s sake.
He headed in that direction without a word.
“Everything all right?” Natasha asked.
“Yeah,” I answered as I left the kitchen.
Natasha followed, but I didn’t realize it until we were standing in the entryway to the grand room and I heard her sharp intake of breath.
So much for privacy.
I’d turned to ask her to give us a moment when I caught the look of horror darkening her expression. Confused, I followed her gaze over my shoulder, my mouth open and heart swelling at the sight it beheld.
There, above the mantel in the center of the room, hung a new painting I’d never seen before. The canvas was massive, frame elegant and bold. And there in the center were Oliver and me, sitting in the dirt below my treehouse. Logan’s brush had perfectly captured the relaxed feeling and instant connection of that afternoon, as well as the cheerfulness in Oliver’s smile and adoration in mine. I was in awe.
I was in awe. When had he painted it? It wasn’t there the previous day, which meant he’d hung it while I was out at night.
One look back to Logan—who was now standing in the doorway, his head cast down in thought—reminded me it wasn’t the time to gush, or overanalyze what it meant that I was hanging on his wall as though we’d been together for years.
I blinked and refocused my attention on Caleb, who stood in front of me, waiting impatiently for answers.
“Can you guys just give us a minute?” I asked, peeking back at Natasha.
She tore her gaze from the painting to look at me, a tight smile twisting her lips.
“Sure. Oh, and Caleb, can you tell Hilary I had a great time last night?” Natasha asked. “She’s a sweet girl. It was great getting to talk to her.”
“Did she say anything to you?” Caleb moved quickly, sweeping past me straight to her, hopeful. “Anything at all?”
Natasha’s brows drew together, but her smile never wavered. “Like what?”
“Anything. She left this morning, and I’m trying to find her. I know you two aren’t close, but if she said something, I need to know.”
Her shoulders slumped, face puckering with fake sympathy. “Ah, I’m so sorry. She didn’t say anything. I can’t believe she’d leave. Especially considering…never mind.”
She knew; I’d seen it the moment she cut her gaze to me after seeing the painting. Natasha knew, and seeing me take up half a wall with her son in her ex-fiancé’s house meant she was pissed enough to spill the beans.
I shot forward and grabbed Caleb’s arm as I opened my mouth to speak, but his broken voice stopped me.
“Considering what?” His voice dropped dangerously low. “Tell me.”
“Look, I know I don’t have the best track record, but I could never have taken my child away from his father. It’s just not okay. I’m sorry, Caleb. It’s your baby, too—you have rights.”
My lungs stung; I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath. I blew it out in a giant puff, balling my hands into tight fists, wishing I was wearing actual clothing and not a robe as I struggled to watch the scene unfold. Caleb’s eyes went wide as he processed her words, the air thickening around him and igniting his rage.
One moment, Caleb was near Natasha, and the next, he was pounding his fist into the wall across the room. His words were incoherent growls that continued until Jax and Logan flanked him, yanking him back and trying to calm his rage.
It was useless. Natasha moved to leave the room, but I stepped around her.
“You know what’s not
okay
? Playing off someone else’s pain to weasel your way back into this family. I should have known better than to think we could ever be friends. You haven’t the first clue about what friendship means.” I stepped closer, but she stood impassive, my words ricocheting off her frozen heart. “Who told you?”
Her lips curled up. “
Told
me? I figured it out myself, and she all but confessed in the restroom last night. A shame, really—like you said, Caleb’s a good guy. I’m sure he’ll find someone he deserves.”
She moved around me, but I sideswiped her. “What did you say to her?”
“Nothing but the truth: That fatherhood changes a man—changes a relationship. But I didn’t know she’d up and leave after our conversation. That’s on her. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my son’s waiting.” Natasha shouldered past me out of the room.
I stood there watching Logan and Jax restrain Caleb, attempting to talk him down.
“I didn’t know she’d leave,” I said, walking toward them.
“Stay back, damn it, Cassandra!” Logan shouted.
I flinched at his cruel tone, but halted my steps. Caleb wouldn’t hurt me, would he? The look on his face frightened something inside me, though, and I moved back. If he was like this with me, what was Hilary in for? I needed to talk to her.