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 unfine. 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.