Crush(34)

The pacing started back up. “And the fundraiser, did you go to that under the duress of a threat as well?”

I shook my head. “No, he asked me to go with him as a favor. I didn’t say yes until I got that first call.”

The muscle in Logan’s jaw twitched.

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you in the first place. I knew how you’d react.”

He stopped at the foot of the bed and ran his hand through his hair. “Knew how I’d react to the man you’re spending so much time with threatening you? Using an innocent child as a pawn? A man who might be a killer? How should I react? Sit down and have a drink with him?”

I threw my hands up. “Logan, stop it. You have to calm down. Michael has all the cards. I have to play by his rules. And if you do anything that pisses him off, makes him doubt my loyalty to him, he will cut me out of her life, I know he will.”

Hands on his head, he paced. After a few moments his breathing seemed to relax. “So you did what he asked. Has he done what he underhandedly dangled before you and named you her guardian yet?”

I shook my head. “That wasn’t something he actually said he would do.”

“Did he name his sister?”

“I’m not sure. We haven’t discussed any of this since that night.”

“Fucking son of a bitch.” His mouth quivered, that’s how angry he was. “You have to trust me when I tell you, he’s dangerous.”

My feet reached for the floor and I stood on the rug that used to belong to my mother. “No, he’s not dangerous. He’s manipulative. There’s a difference.”

Logan took the two steps between us in one stride and gripped my arms. “No, Elle, in his case, there’s not.”

I sighed in exasperation. “Please don’t start with the you think he killed my sister talk again. He might be many things, but he’s not a killer.”

Logan drew in a breath and huffed in frustration. “I know how important Clementine is to you and how important keeping her in your life is, Elle, but you have to start thinking more clearly.”

This conversation was going nowhere. “I have to get ready,” I said and started to walk toward the bathroom.

Logan grabbed my wrist. “I’m going with you today.”

Determination showed in my face when I spoke. “No, Logan, you’re not.”

With certain gentleness, he let go of my wrist and grabbed some clean clothes. “Fine. I’ll stay out of sight but I’ll be there, and then tomorrow I’m going to see Tommy to find out what the hell he, Lizzy, and O’Shea had going on.”

“Logan, no, you can’t go see him. It’s too dangerous.” My pleas went unheard.

The door was slamming behind him before I could even voice my concern. Two seconds later I heard the hallway bathroom door slam as well.

I hated this.

I wanted to talk reasonably.

But we both needed to calm down.

Listening to the water run, I knew he’d be showered and out of the house before I even took my bath.

Talking would have to wait.





LOGAN


I leaned down on the reception counter. “Where’s he at today?”

The nurse behind the desk pointed to my right. “Ahhh . . . big poker game in the rec room.”

My huff of laugher couldn’t be helped. “I hope he’s not taking everyone for all they’ve got.”

She laughed at that and moved her chair closer to the window. “I think its penny-ante, so you never know.”

Amusement still in the air, I glanced around. When I saw no one in the vicinity, I slipped her two C-notes. “Make sure he gets what he needs this week, will you?”

Without hesitation, she took the bills. Folded one and slipped it into her top. Folded the other and put it in the desk drawer. When they were both out of sight, she looked up. “I always do. Last week it was Jack Daniel’s for his chocolate ice cream and jelly beans to put on his pudding. God only knows what it will be this week.”

Standing straight, I thumped the counter. “Thanks for taking care of him, Judy. I really appreciate it.”

A slight blush crept up her cheeks. “It’s really no problem. I don’t mind at all. Besides, he’s a real sweet talker, that one,” she said before quickly turning back to her computer screen.

With a shake of my head, I headed toward the high-stakes poker game. The halls of Brighton House, the top facility for elderly care in Boston, were like any other nursing home in the area. White, drab, and if they didn’t smell like piss, they smelled like Lysol. The only difference, this place cost a f*ck-load more.

Having taken a shower, dressed, and given myself an attitude adjustment, I had an hour before the funeral, and decided it was time to stop avoiding my grandfather.

The room wasn’t that far from reception and I reached it quickly. When I did, I leaned against the door and couldn’t help but smirk at what I saw. The place was filled with people. Some playing chess, others watching TV, a few reading, and even a handful at the computer stations against the back wall. But Gramps wasn’t anywhere near those traditional forms of entertainment. Instead, there he sat, at a large round table with a bunch of women playing poker. Women had always been his weakness. My grandmother had been the love of his life, and when he lost her, he never remarried, but that didn’t mean he didn’t chase anything with a skirt, and even at seventy-seven he hadn’t changed.