Logan Kade (Fallen Crest #5.5)

He began walking away, backward again, that smug grin still on his face. He lifted both shoulders. “Like I said earlier, I’ve been called worse. I’ll be calling later.” He wasn’t talking to Claire, and we both knew it.

He started to walk away, but his gaze held mine, and I was looking back. I shouldn’t have been, but I was...and I didn’t want to think about that either.





LOGAN


“What are you doing?”

I was walking to my next class, but swung around. Sam was standing there, her bag on her back with her hands holding on to the black straps around her shoulders. Her brown eyes were annoyed, and her mouth pressed into an irritated frown. She wasn’t looking at me, though. Her gaze was trained on the two girls I just left.

“Hey there, sister soul of mine.” I held a fist up. “How’s it hanging yourself?”

She ignored the hand and shifted, one of her hands falling to her hip. “I mean it, Logan.” She nodded to the girls. “What are you doing?”

“What?” I twisted around to look, too. The blonde seemed agitated, and the other one, Taylor, aka the hot one, looked...well, she didn’t look like anything. I paused and frowned, focusing on her even more. That was surprising. Girls usually liked it when I said I’d call them. This one didn’t seem too happy about it. “Huh.” I scratched behind my ear.

“Huh?” Sam punched my arm. “Huh what? For the third time, what are you doing?”

“What?” My hand fell to where she hit me, and I rubbed there, absent-mindedly. Why didn’t that girl seem to care? But then again, I remembered her at the party. There’d been something different, something dark about her. Something about why I sat next to her today.

“Logan!”

“Oh, yeah.” I cleared my thoughts. “You remember Delray from last year?”

“No.”

I shrugged. That didn’t matter. “He was one of Sebastian’s lackeys, and he turned me down for a job last year.” I gestured to the girls. “They’re his buddies.”

“You’re not.”

“What?”

The ends of her mouth pinched together in disapproval. Sam cocked her head to the side, giving me that slanted look of when she was really disappointed in me. “Don’t use them to get back at him.”

“What?” I furrowed my eyebrows together. That was the farthest thing I was thinking. Well, maybe not. “No. That’s not it. I’m using him to get the hot one’s digits. That’s all.”

“Since when do you need to use manipulation to get someone’s number?”

“Since it became fun, and besides…” I flashed her a grin. “Don’t worry. I’m not planning on using that girl for anything. She won’t get hurt. I promise. I’m just taking a few extra steps to make Delray squirm. That’s it.”

Her shoulders lifted up and slowly lowered. She continued to scrutinize me, but I saw the softening, and by the time her shoulders were all the way down, she was grinning back at me. She shook her head, rolling her eyes. “I like that girl.”

“You remember her?”

She nodded, her eyes hardening. “She was going to step in and help me last night. I don’t know her, but that’s not normal, you know. Not many people would step in when it’s one girl against three guys. People don’t help like that anymore.”

I nodded. I knew. We both knew how much I knew. Loyalty ran deep in our group for a reason. I held up my hands. “I’m not going to hurt her. I promise.”

“Okay.”

I smirked. “But I might bang her.”

“Logan!”

“If she’s down for it.”





LOGANISMS AND KAPOW!





TAYLOR


The house was dark when I walked inside with two bags of groceries. Hitting the lights with my elbow, I toed the door shut behind me.

“Dad? I got food.”

He didn’t answer, but he could’ve been in his office watching tapes. He always seemed to be there. Or else he was still on campus.

“Dad?”

I put a pot on the stove and put away the milk and orange juice. I unloaded meat for sandwiches, vegetables, fruit, and yogurt. After I pulled out the noodles and set them on the counter for dinner, I realized one thing: My coffee was still in the sink. I’d dumped it there this morning, and a small stain still sat around the drain. Dad hadn’t been home all day.

He still wasn’t home.

It was eight at night. Normal dads got home around six. My dad’s last practice ended at three on Mondays. He’d spent last Thursday, Friday, and Saturday with the football team. Sunday was church, then he’d had his friends over, and I went out.

But today was my day. This was supposed to be my night with him.

I moved to turn off the stove, but I paused. I imagined flinging the not-yet-boiling water across the kitchen. For a moment, one moment, I considered it. Who cared if water got over everything? Who cared how hot the water was? Who cared, in general, about any of it?

I did, but the need to do something crazy was there—

“Taylor?”

My breath hissed, leaving me. That wasn’t him, but I wanted it to be. Jason knocked on the door again as I turned.

He said, “Claire said I’m in deep shit with you.”