Logan Kade (Fallen Crest #5.5)

So, going back to my dramatic goodbye here (So dramatic! Can you feel the thick sarcasm?), for real, I love you. You were my family when my real family kicked me out.

I know I told you things with Claire fizzled last year, but it really happened long before that. I don’t really know what happened, but I never fought for it. As long as I had you, I was okay. I really was. You were my rock for so many years. It meant the world to me that I was able to be your rock this last year. You’ll never know how much I loved being able to support you, even though it was because of a seriously shitty situation.

Please don’t worry about me. I took enough to get by for a while. I’m not telling where I’m going, but some of my friends have friends who can help me out. I’ll be fine. I really will. I may even seek treatment for my problem. I’m told it doesn’t stick well, but I’ll try. Maybe we can figure out some secret spy way to send coded messages. Probably not, though, because I’m sure I’d forget the code and all would be lost.

Okay. My ride is here. I have to sign off. Oh, hey, you should know that Claire is going to be a mess when she’s done reading my letter to her. It’s filled with a lot of “I’m sorry. I wish we had fought to keep our closeness.” And “I’m so glad we were a united front for Taylor this past year.”

I love you, Taylor. I’ll always be your best friend. No matter where I am or where you are, we’re still family. Physical distance can’t hamper our bond, and since I’m not there, do not let a certain someone hurt you. If he does, let him know that I’m coming back to kick his ass. I’ll get bigger guys to do the deed for me. I got your back, Taylor.

(But having written that, I did see how much he was worried about you that night. I may have to eat all my words. I think the guy does care for you, and if that’s the case, you have tamed the beast. Good luck. I’ve heard some of the crazy stuff he’s done. It’ll be a wild ride for you, so have fun with him.)

Okay. Shit. They’re honking. I really have to go.

I LOVE YOU, Taylor Laurelin Bruce. (I’ll be seeing you again, so this isn’t a goodbye letter.)

SEE YOU LATER— Jason

PS I made a call on your behalf. Please don’t be mad, and if you are, you can chew my ass out the next time we see each other. Because there WILL be a next time.



Using the back of my hands, I wiped the tears from my face. Claire was still reading her letter. Jason’s roommate (ex-roommate) handed us the two letters earlier, both sealed in envelopes, and mumbled something before taking off.

Once we got back into the car, Claire ripped into hers. I only held mine. I listened to her sniffling for a full minute before I had the strength to open it. And now, feeling gutted, I waited for Claire to be done as well.

Jason wanted me to burn the letter, but that wasn’t happening. I folded it up neatly and put it back into the envelope. When I saw him again, I’d burn it. Until then, this letter would never be destroyed.

It was my last contact with him.





A PSEUDO KIDNAPPING.

NOT REALLY.

REALLY.





LOGAN


Taylor’s ex-douchefriend’s head had started to bob up and down, back and forth, before the first moan came from him. I put him on a couch in the garage and kept the lights turned off—except for one spotlight trained solely on him. The only door was locked, and I stood right in front of it. The dipshit wasn’t leaving without giving me some answers.

“Wha…” His head raised from his chest. “Huh?”

“You good?” I called over to him.

“What?” His eyes opened, but shut again right away. He groaned and coughed before asking, “Where am I?”

“You and me.” I walked over to lean against my Escalade. “We’re going to have a chat.”

“Wait.” He still seemed so confused. Looking around, he lifted his hands and touched his face. “I was at the bar. I wanted to talk to Taylor, but this guy—” He stopped and squinted at me. “Was that you? Did you knock me out?”

I didn’t see the point of lying, so I shrugged and walked out from behind the light. As soon as he could see me, his head fell back against the couch. “You.”

“Me.” I smiled.

“Who are you?”

My smile switched to a frown. “I thought you’d recognize me.”

“No.” He blinked a few times before focusing on me again. “Who are you?”

“I’m the guy screwing your ex-girlfriend.” I leaned down in his face.

His eyes jumped to mine, and a flare of anger appeared, but he didn’t say anything.

“Now.” I went back to smiling, though I knew my eyes weren’t showing it. My eyes were saying a whole host of other shit. He should be scared of me. He should be scared of Taylor. He should leave and never come back.

A wary expression flickered over his face, and I knew he’d registered each and every one of those messages.

“You’re going to tell me why you came to see Taylor,” I said.

“Why I—no.” He shook his head, his voice growing stronger. “No, I won’t. That’s between her and me. I don’t care who you are.”