How did I even begin to tell him that his own son murdered his best friend?
I have no clue what to do.
My mind returns to everything that’s happened tonight as I try to come to terms with it all. How did I not sense that there was something going on with Logan? But then he hid it so well I never suspected he was in so deep. I just wished he felt he was able to tell me, I would have helped if I had known.
I reach for my phone in my back pocket and type out a text to my mom telling her I’ll be home in the morning, the thought of coming face to face with her has my stomach doing flips. Should I lie and pretend I know nothing? But how will I explain the car disappearing?
The car.
The last thing I had of my dad and it’s gone, along with the letter he wrote me still in the glovebox.
Tears sting my eyes but as much as it hurts me about the car, I don’t think I could have stood losing Logan today or seeing him hurt even worse. In reality, he means more to me than anything, and just having him here by my side, having him tell me he loves me too makes everything hurt a little less.
We’ll get through this. Together.
Chapter 29
Amy
Iwake the next morning to the sound of soft snores at my back, and a thin stream of light filtering in through my curtains. The weight of a heavy arm around my waist has me pinned to the bed. I let out a long yawn, attempting to stretch out my limbs in what little room Logan’s body allows me. My head is still thick with sleep. It was a deep sleep, one that was uninterrupted all night despite everything that happened yesterday. The events of yesterday pass through my mind and I have to wonder to myself whether all of that actually happened.
I crawl out of bed, careful not to wake Logan and silently pad my way to the bathroom, and when I return, I find Logan sitting on the edge of his bed and I come to stand between his spread legs. I run my fingers through his hair as his head drops forward to rest on my chest and his arms band around my waist.
He takes a deep breath in and a long sigh. “This would be a lot more fun if you were naked,” he comments and I can’t help but laugh.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
He touches the wound to his side. “Like I got trampled on by a horse, but I’ll survive.” I let my eyes wander over the top half of his body, the bruises are turning a deep shade of purple and appear larger than they did yesterday. His hand cups my face. “Don’t look so worried, baby. I’m fine, really.”
“I just hate seeing you like this.”
“And I’m still grateful that it was me and not you.” His mouth meets mine in a delicate kiss, before resting his forehead against my own. “I’m gonna go take a quick shower, care to join me?” he asks with a smirk, and I take his hand and he leads me into the bathroom.
He strips off his boxers and steps into the shower, and my eyes are immediately drawn to the man stood under the hot water that cascades over his beautiful but bruised body. I remove my own clothes and underwear, leaving them in a pile on the tiled floor, and follow him in and without hesitation, he pulls me into his arms and I lean into him, dropping my head to his chest, closing my eyes and letting the water wash away everything from the past day, wanting to forget all of it and go back to normal.
We take time washing each other, and I take care around his injuries, not wanting to make them worse, and I can’t help but run my hands over his body, trailing kisses over the bruises and cuts, wishing that with every kiss they would disappear.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” I say, dusting my lips over his left nipple then flick it with my tongue playfully.
“You and me both, babygirl.” He reaches up and traces his fingers over my jaw, touching my face with his thumb tentatively before turning off the water.
He steps out first, wrapping a towel around his waist before holding one out for me. Once we’re dressed, we head for the kitchen where I offer to cook us breakfast. We eat in silence, mostly on my part. It’s the first time since last night that the full weight of what happened has hit me.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, his brows furrowed.
“Just thinking… about yesterday.”
He sighs softly. “I’m so sorry, baby. I tried so hard to keep you out of it.”
“I know. I just keep thinking about David. I can’t believe him. He and my dad were always so close, how could he kill him? I just…” I trail off, I’m at a total loss for words.
I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that David, a boy I grew up with, a boy I shared baths with when I was a baby, a boy I considered a childhood friend, was the one who killed my dad.
Logan’s face falters slightly at the mention of David’s name, and he tries to cover it but it’s too late. “What?”
He rubs his forehead. “I need to tell you something.” His words send a shiver of dread through me, knowing I’m not going to like what he has to say.
“Okay…?”
