Fighting Fate (Granton University #1)(17)

“Yes, of course you may.” Sam’s voice was soothing, which only made Logan feel worse. “Feel free to jump in whenever you like, Paige. We’re a very laid-back group.”

“I miss my brother’s laugh,” Paige said, her gaze still on Logan.

The pain on her face made his bones shudder with regret. He closed his eyes, unable to hold her accusing stare, wishing he could do something—anything—to take her anguish away, to take it all away.

“How long has he been gone?” Sam asked softly.

“Almost three years.”

It’ll be three years exactly on February fifth, Logan silently added.

“He was killed,” Paige said.

Logan flinched. Though the air conditioning had just turned on, blowing a cool breeze across the back of his neck, his body heated uncomfortably, sweat seeping from his brow. He opened his lashes to find Paige still watching him from her beautiful, hate-filled eyes.

He wanted to bolt, to dart away and never look back, but fear paralyzed him. He couldn’t budge, couldn’t even break eye contact as she kept talking.

“My brother died when I was fifteen and he’d only been eighteen for a week.”

He deserved this, Logan told himself. But, God, he felt sick. He wasn’t sure if he was going to vomit or pass out. Maybe both.

Though his body went into full panic mode, he stayed horrifyingly conscious as she continued.

“He was a basketball player and had just led his team in winning the most important game of the season against our biggest rivals. Afterward, he went out celebrating with his girlfriend and their friends, and ran across a couple members of the losing team.”

Shoulders lifting and lips parting, Logan sucked in an unsteady breath. He tore his gaze away from her and stared blankly at a spot on the floor in the center of the circle, lost in his own memories of that night.

“When he got into a fight with the captain of the opposing team, he was knocked unconscious and hit his head on a glass bottle when he fell. He died instantly.”

Instantly was right. It still traumatized Logan to realize just how instantly a person could die. How unexpectedly.

“I’m so sorry, dear,” Sam murmured. “It must’ve been tragic.”

Paige nodded once. “The boy who killed him never saw the inside of a jail cell. His father was some rich, fancy lawyer who got him off without a trial. He convinced everyone who was there that night, even a couple of my brother’s friends, to say Trace had started the fight and thrown the first punch. My poor dead brother couldn’t defend himself, so they made him out to look like some kind of hot-headed delinquent.”

Logan couldn’t decide what was worse: Paige Zukowski publicly condemning him to everyone in the group or his waiting for her to publicly condemn him. Yet, with each word she spoke, his name didn’t cross her lips, and he decided the anticipation would take him long before the revelation would.

Why wasn’t she pointing at him already and telling everyone he was the murderer?

“After that, my entire family fell apart. My father started drinking, more and more each night until he became a mean drunk. He lost his job within a couple months of Trace’s death. My mom disappeared into some dark place inside herself.”

She paused with a ragged shudder. For a brief moment, Logan thought she was going to start crying. He panicked. He wouldn’t be able to handle seeing her cry.

But then she fisted her hands and gritted her teeth before she snarled, “She killed herself. Two years after Trace died, she put a gun in her mouth and pulled the trigger.”

Say what?

Logan jolted, ready for her to laugh and say Gotcha, but the dull agony in her eyes, the icy whiteness of her skin let him know this was no joke.

He’d had no idea her mother had committed suicide.

Forget merely puking, he felt as if every particle of his being was going to explode.

But to learn he had not just one death on his conscience now, but two, was more than he could take. And there was no way he could deny culpability for the death of Trace’s mother. No way would she have killed herself if he hadn’t taken her son away first and destroyed her family.

Paige sat stone still across the circle from him, staring a hole into the back wall. He couldn’t imagine what she was going through. Losing two people so terribly in the space of three years was simply unbelievable.

Beside her, Kevin reached out to take her hand in a sympathetic squeeze. Logan stared hard at their connection, hoping she found some measure of comfort from the contact. But Paige politely slipped her fingers out from under Kevin’s and folded them in her lap.

Silence echoed through the large Crimson Room. Logan wanted to shout for someone to console her already. He couldn’t handle watching her hurt, knowing he was the reason.

“I sense a lot of anger still in you, Paige,” Samantha finally said. “You sound mad at your mother for deserting you as much as you sound upset with the boy who fought with your brother.”

Logan held his breath as he watched Paige meet Samantha’s stare. “I am,” she said simply. Her shoulders shuddered as if it took everything she had to contain her rage. He closed his eyes, unable to watch.

“And if this boy or your mother were here right now,” Sam pressed softly, “what would you say to either of them?”

Oh God.

Opening his lashes, he glanced up and found her looking directly at him, dooming him with her glare.