Crush(54)

I had to swallow, hard, before I could force myself to speak without my voice crumbling. And even then, “I’m so sorry, Logan. I’m so sorry,” was all I could manage.

“I knew something wasn’t right when I went there yesterday. I should have pushed him more. I should have seen this coming.”

I shifted to sit beside him and I drew him to me. “It wasn’t your fault.” I stroked his hair the same way he stroked mine when I was upset.

“Yeah, it was,” he said, his voice flat and sounding very far away.

“No, it wasn’t.”

“I told you how it—” he started to say but before he could finish, he bolted off the bed and ran toward the bathroom, slamming the door in his wake.

In a rush, I hurried after him. When I turned the knob, it was locked. The sound of solid splashing against liquid could be heard through the door. A flush. More splashing. Another flush. Dry heaving.

I knocked lightly. “Logan, let me in. I want to help you.”

Silence.

“Logan, please, let me in.”

The sound of water running.

I flattened my palm to the door and pressed my forehead against it. “Logan, please,” I said softly.

“I need some time, Elle.”

I closed my eyes. “Oh, Logan.”

A soft shuffle on the other side of the door made me think he was standing directly opposite me.

“Open the door, let me help you,” I whispered again.

Time passed, seconds, minutes, I wasn’t sure.

I spoke again. “Let me help you, Logan, please,” I pleaded.

Finally, slowly, the door creaked open. So many emotions cascaded over his expression as he looked at me. “He’s dead because of what I did.”

I flung myself at him and threw my arms around his neck. “No, Logan. That’s simply not true.”

When I pulled back to look at him, I could tell my words weren’t even registering. His mind was somewhere far off in the distance.

I smoothed his hair back. “Does your father know?” I asked, wondering if I should take charge.

He blinked as if he just remembered something. “Yeah, he met me over at Brighton House earlier. I should go. He’ll be alone at the house until my uncle arrives.”

“We’ll go together, but first you have to take a shower.” I attempted to take his arm to lead him through my bedroom to the hall bathroom where the shower was.

“I’ll do it.” He flared his palms out.

“I want to help you.”

His eyes gained focus as he looked down at me. “I don’t want Tommy’s blood on you.”

“What?” I asked, my throat going tight over my own surge of nausea. For some reason I just assumed it was Killian’s blood on him. My eyes roamed over his shirt again as if the spackling that coated him might have been altered in some way. “Why is Tommy’s blood on you?”

He was watching me and I knew he noticed my reaction. “Because he’s the one who told me what my grandfather had agreed to.”

There was no need for him to explain any further. I nodded in understanding, my voice stolen by emotion I wasn’t sure I was ready to face, and questions I wasn’t ready to ask. Like, what else did he tell you?

Death seemed to be all around us. I felt like we’d just gone through this, and we had. I didn’t want to know anything else right now. Besides, I had pushed Logan away from me by not allowing him to accompany me to my sister’s funeral. I wasn’t going to let him do that to me. I wasn’t going to let anything like that happen again between us. I was his, and he was mine, and that meant we took care of each other. It had taken me some time to realize that, but I did now.

I reached out my hand, “Come on.”

His eyes questioned me.

I didn’t hesitate as I grabbed his hand.

My towel was still around me as I took the lead and walked us to the hall bathroom.

Twisting to turn the water on, I took a deep breath and blinked away the tears that had formed in my eyes. Once the blur cleared, I focused on the buttons of his white shirt and avoided looking at the red stains.

One. Two. Three. Four.

He stood stoic as I opened the flaps and pulled each sleeve down. Balling the shirt up, I tossed it into the corner. I’d get a garbage bag and throw the clothes away later.

Next, I undid his belt and then the zipper of his slacks. I got on my knees to slide them down, urging him to lift his feet so I could remove his shoes and socks at the same time.

Logan watched me the entire time, every move, every breath. He was stiff, uncertain, but still he let me. And when he was naked, he stepped into the already steaming shower and hung his head.

The defeat I’d witnessed in his body when I first saw him on my bed and that I saw right now frightened me. He was the strong one. The one who always had a plan. The dauntless warrior I could only hope to be.

When he pressed his palms to the wall, it occurred to me that it was my turn to be the strong one in our relationship. He’d taken control and protected me from the very beginning. This would not crush him; I’d make certain of that.

Sensing how much he needed me right now, I took my towel off and stepped into the shower with him. At first I only wrapped my arms around him and settled my cheek against his back. It struck me that the biggest difference between Logan’s loss and mine was that Logan had an incredible bond with his grandfather. In fact, if I had to guess, I think Logan was closer to Killian than he was to his own father. I found myself whispering to him. “He loved you, Logan, remember that.”