“Look, you have everything all wrong, but to be honest, I’m too tired to deal with this. I’m going home, alone!”
“Cassa—” Logan began but what followed was an earth-pounding thump. I turned in a panic. Logan was stumbling forward, his hand holding the back of his head. I watched in horror as Kurt charged at him again.
“No!” I lurched forward. “Stop this!” The moment I stepped in between them, I caught Kurt’s fist, straight in the face. My head flew back and I lost my balance, sending me hard against the sidewalk. Pain radiated through my lip, blood filled my mouth. Tears sprung from my eyes and my hands covered my injury as I sat there shell-shocked.
“Son of a bitch!” Logan roared, his voice raw and unhinged and in a flash he tackled Kurt to the ground. His fists crashed into the man’s face over and over until the sounds of police sirens and Caleb’s voice rang out.
Chapter Twelve
TLC
Logan fell back at Caleb’s feet as the officers jumped out of their squad car and raced to the scene. I sat on the grass watching, my head buried in my knees, my back against a tiny tree.
“You’re under arrest!” the officer barked, pulling Logan to his feet and yanking his hands behind his back.
“Wait, this was all Kurt. Logan was only protecting Cassandra,” Caleb explained, still catching his breath from running over.
“Cassandra?” The officer looked to me expectantly.
“Yeah, it’s true,” I replied, wincing at the pain when my lips moved. I ached everywhere, but cringed at the realization I’d be sporting a nasty bruise the next day.
“We knew it was only a matter of time before this one lost his temper again,” the other officer said, standing over Kurt’s unconscious body. “Two previous assault arrests on his record before his last stint in prison, for attempted murder.”
I exhaled, and glanced up at Logan. He had been telling the truth, just trying to look out for me and I got him hurt, ruined his night. All I wanted was a night as an average twenty-two year old, but had I taken Kurt back to my house, hidden in the woods where we’d been practically alone, who knows how that would have ended. He was a ticking time bomb. I recoiled imaging the terrifying possibilities. This was the exact reason I never drank. So much for lowering my inhibitions for a night.
“Holy shit!” Caleb muttered looking down at me. “I swear to God, Cassandra, I had no clue. I knew him from a friend. We hung out back in the day and he told me he was in jail, but that it was all a misunderstanding.” Caleb ran both his hands through his hair and rested them on top of his head. “He said some guy was sleeping with his fiancée and attacked him when he confronted him. Kurt told me he messed the guy up pretty bad, but that he didn’t start it.” Caleb sighed, and dropped his hands and head. “Damn, I should have had him checked out.”
I shook my head in disbelief. He walked closer, leaning down in front of me.
“I messed up, but I swear I never thought he was capable of hurting you. You have to believe me.” His hooded eyes filled with concern and regret.
“The officer needs a statement,” Logan said, tapping Caleb on the shoulder.
Caleb let out a deep sigh and turned away, shoulders deflated, to talk to the officer.
Logan crouched down in front of me, and gently pulled my chin up to examine my face. “The medics need to check you out. Make sure nothing’s broken,” he said lightly brushing his finger down my nose and over my top lip.
I hissed through the pain.
“I wanted to fucking kill him,” Logan murmured, more to himself. “I shouldn’t have let you get between us. You should have left. Went back to the bar and got Caleb or something.” His voice grew louder, angrier. “Why the hell did you step in—”
“What’s this?” The officer snickered, gaining our attention. He bent down pulling a vial peeking out from Kurt’s pocket. “Cocaine. Looks like he’s violated parole in more ways than one tonight.”
An ambulance pulled up and paramedics appeared moments later, lifting Kurt onto a gurney.
“Will you be pressing charges, Mr. West?”
Logan turned to look at me, his jaw working hard as he took in my appearance. I shook my head once causing his frown to deepen.
“No,” he answered, looking away. “The coke should be enough to lock his ass back up.”
“What about you, Cassandra?” the officer asked, holding his pen and notepad.
I shook my head again.
“All right, then. If you change your minds, just stop into the station.” He smiled, and after taking a few notes, he climbed into his squad. “Have a good night and put some ice on that pretty face, Cassandra.”
After the scene was cleared and the crowd had disappeared, I sat on the sidewalk, leaning against a fire hydrant, feeling the weight of tonight. It was eerily quiet. I refused everyone’s offers to drive me home. I just sat there watching and waiting until I had my chance to speak with Logan.
“You okay?” My voice was so soft, nothing more than a breath in the wind.
He was leaning against a car rubbing the back of his head. He said nothing, just stared down at the patch of grass in front of him.
“You should get your head looked at. You might have a concussion,” I said louder, noticing the dried blood on his hands. Kurt had hit him pretty hard but Logan refused to go to the hospital. One of the paramedics did however manage to get a quick look after Logan made sure I got a damn near full physical. Logan was relentless and it took everything I had to prove I’d be fine. Luckily, it wasn’t a broken nose. The maniac’s fist caught more of my lip and the pressure there was already building beneath the skin.
I sighed, growing agitated, when he still didn’t answer me. “I’m sorry, but how was I to know the man was a psycho? You should have told me before watching me drink so much tonight.” The alcohol was long gone from my system between the rush of adrenaline earlier and the pain from a grown man punching me in the face. I was stone-cold sober.
“And you would have believed me?” he snapped, looking my way for only a brief second before dropping his head. I hugged my knees closer against my chest, and rested my chin on them, watching Logan shake his head in thought.
He looked at the grass, and then tipped his head back, staring at the full moon. Finally, he pushed off the car and offered a hand to help me up from the grass.
“Probably not,” I mumbled, honestly. I stood and stepped back to see his face under the glow of the street light. “But that’s your fault. You’re always hitting on me or making me feel…I don’t know…all right. You just get in my head. I never know what’s real and what’s a game.”
Our eyes locked for a long moment before he spoke. “You’re right.” He softly wiped at the blood on me cheek. “I’m sorry.”
His arm wrapped around my waist, and he helped me down the sidewalk to his car.
The ride to my house was painfully quiet. I wasn’t sure if he was angrier that I got hurt, or that I didn’t listen to him earlier and let him take me home before things got out of hand. Either way I could tell he was pissed. His hand was tight around the steering wheel, grinding into the leather.
The moment he switched off the ignition Logan was out of the car and opening my door for me. He caught me off guard, when he swooped me up in his arms and carried me to my front door.