Fallen Crest Alternative Version (Fallen Crest High #2.1)(86)

Can we talk?

Where are you?

Please call me?

I knew Mason had sent similar ones, but there’d been nothing about Mason’s manipulation. Nothing. There had only been questions from us about where he was, if he could call us, etc.

Oh my god.

I lifted horrified eyes back to him. He had no idea. Miranda had been telling the truth.

“Logan,” I choked out. My voice was hoarse. “Wha--what did she say to you?”

He frowned and anger flashed over his face for a moment. “You mean that bullshit about Mason manipulating me? She didn’t tell you?”

I could lie. I could cover everything. I took a breath. “What did you say to Miranda? She hasn’t said anything to me the last few weeks.”

“Because I f**king told her not to touch you.” He grew heated. “I threatened her, if she didn’t leave you alone, I’d tell everyone her secrets. Trust me. She’s got them. She did some dirty shit with me.”

I grew sick. “You recorded it?”

“Fuck no,” he snorted. “But I remember. I have a photographic memory, so does Mason. I remember every little detail. People would believe me because she told me things about all her little friends too.”

“Secrets about them?”

He nodded, looking away. His hands went back to twisting around each other. “Yeah. I have enough baggage on all them. If it came out, they’d go ape-shit on her. She won’t say a word. I promise, Sam.”

Logan hadn’t believed her. He made her not believe herself. I bit my lip, wondering if that was true, but it didn’t matter. Miranda did know. She was silenced, but she still knew. So did we. I didn’t know what Mason would’ve told me to do, but I knew what to do. With the decision made, I knew what else I’d have to do afterwards.

My stomach shrunk. I grew nauseous. I wanted to throw up, but I couldn’t. My hands started shaking, but I heard myself speak, “Logan,” I paused. This would change everything.

He asked, “Yeah?”

I started saying goodbye to them in my head. I had to prepare myself. Then I said, “She was right.”

His eyes narrowed and his eyebrows furrowed together. “What do you mean?”

My throat was dry. “She was right.” Shit. “About everything. About Mason, about Nate. I knew.”

I stopped and waited. The storm would come.

He grew still, eerily still. A minute passed. Another, then a third. He jerked forward. “What are you saying, Sam? What exactly are you saying?”

“Mason wanted her to be shut down. He used you to do it.”

“Nate? You said Nate?”

My voice started shaking. “Nate told you to date her. He--”

“He set me up?”

My neck was stiff, but I jerked my head in a nod. “Yes.”

“Mason set him up to it?”

I couldn’t say it again. I sat and waited. I couldn’t do anything else.

“And you knew?” He stopped, scowling now. He sounded confused. “But...my feelings?” His gaze swung to mine again. They were piercing. “You knew?”

“I,” stopping, I swallowed. I couldn’t talk. “I think I always knew.” It came out as a whisper.

“My god,” he murmured. “My god. Mason. You. Who else knew?”

I shook my head. “We didn’t talk about it until Miranda. I don’t know who else knows.”

“Nate?”

“I don’t know.” That was the truth. “I didn’t know he did it because of your feelings until Miranda said it. It clicked then, but I knew it was the truth. I knew he was worried because of Tate. He didn’t want me to come in between you guys.”

I stopped and heard my own words in my head. He didn’t want me to come in between them. Mason hadn’t been right to manipulate Logan, but I understood why. I was already coming in between them.

“I’m sorry, Logan.” I couldn’t come between them.

He started to shake his head. “No. No, this can’t be happening. My brother doesn’t do this, not to me. He wouldn’t. There’s no way.”

He had.

Logan fell silent. Then he cursed. It was low and soft.

I jumped from the sound of it. “I’m so sorry, Logan.”

“My own brother…”

I started to stand up, but my legs weren’t working. I fell back to the couch and took a deep breath. Work. I willed them to work and then I started to stand again. It was slow and unsteady, but I stood upright.

Logan wasn’t looking at me. He was bent forward, his head was cradled again in his hands. “My own brother.” He repeated those words.

A tear slid down my cheek. I had done this. I couldn’t undo this. “I’m so sorry, Logan. I am. I really am.”

He didn’t hear me. My voice was a whisper. I left him there, like that. Going to my room, I began packing in a blind rush. Logan’s voice, the hurt in it, was on repeat in my head. I did that. I was the cause of it, and I had to fix it.

I didn’t know how long it took me, but I packed enough. Throwing my books and laptop into a bag, I took a breath and scanned the room. I felt like I was dying inside, but I only knew one thing. I couldn’t be the cause of them falling apart. After scribbling a note and leaving it on the kitchen table, I left.