Logan Kade (Fallen Crest #5.5)(82)

“—roommates?” I supplied.

He stopped, and his shoulders slumped. It was like I’d taken whatever oomph he’d had in him. My father was gone.

I was staring at a husband who’d lost his wife, and seeing him that way, I understood the grief still there. They’d been best friends and soulmates. He lost his other half. I could see the battle and how it weighed on him. A knot formed in me, and seeing my father as a man, not just as my dad, made it even tighter. It was bittersweet, and it was necessary.

“I’m sorry, too, Dad,” I whispered.

His eyes lifted, haunted. “I’m so sorry, Taylor. I really am.”

I had to say some things, and I knew they were going to hurt him, but if I held my feelings in, they would never leave me. “I’m angry at you.”

“Oh, honey. I know. And you have every right to be.”

I shook my head. I wasn’t done. “I’m angry at you for so many reasons, but mostly I’m angry at you because you haven’t been around.” I flinched, remembering what I’d said. “Your daughter shouldn’t be your roommate. Ever.” He was supposed to be here. “You were supposed to hold my hand at the funeral.” He made sure someone else sat between us. “You were supposed to hug me when we buried her.” He stood on the other side of the casket. “You were supposed to tell me everything would be okay.” Never. I hadn’t known if it would be or not. “I get it. You’re mourning her, too, but so am I. I wanted to mourn with you, beside you, together. Instead I lost you too. I’m not supposed to lose both of you—not when one of you is still walking, talking, breathing. Not when you’re right here in front of me.”

“Taylor,” he whispered, tears falling down his face.

“We don’t talk. I don’t talk. I learned that from you and Mom dying, we need to talk about that. We have to talk about her. We have to just talk, Dad.”

“I know. You’re like me. Your mother was the talker. She made everything better for us, but you’re right. We need to talk more.” He tried to smile, but couldn’t. He nodded instead.

“Are you going to be okay?”

At that question, a ragged breath left him, and he shook his head. I was staring at a battered man. I saw the bags under his eyes, the wrinkles I never noticed before. There were extra lines around his mouth, and his entire face seemed to hang loose. The skin sagged where it had been tight before. He aged ten years.

“I’m going to try,” he finally said. He looked at me. “For you.”

I nodded. That was the best answer I could have received. “Okay.”

We stood there together, and nothing more needed to be said—at least, not for a while. I could feel her. She stood with us, smiling. I knew my mother wanted us to be a family again. It’d happen.

Love you, Mom.

Love you back, Firecracker.





LOGAN


Mason’s head appeared over the roller coaster as he made his way to where I sat in the car at the top of the track. So much for this being a secret. He finished his ascent, I could see him looking around, a slight frown on his face.

I had to laugh.

Mase called and said our dad wanted to meet up for a later dinner. The favor he wanted had to be done in-person and that meant it was a big one, one we wouldn’t be happy about. That was like issuing a challenge. Usually I’d pounce on that shit like a starving lion. Challenge accepted. A month ago, I would’ve shoved through those doors, walked into the room like I owned it, and ripped into our dad. Fuck. A day ago I’d have had the same response. But not today. Today I came here.

This day…was so much not like the rest.

“What…” Mason paused next to the car door. “…the f*ck are you doing up here?”

I grinned, leaning back. “I usually come at night.” I gestured to the view. “The entire city’s out there.”

“It’s dangerous, Logan.” He eyed the empty seat next to me. “That’s safe, right? I mean, you wouldn’t be up here if it wasn’t…right?”

I scooted over and patted the seat. “All warm and cozy for you.”

He groaned, but climbed inside. “Tell me I’m the best big brother you got.” He grimaced. “I f*cking hate heights.”

“You’ll never jump out of a plane.” I cocked my head to the side, teasing. “You’ll never experience a high-ropes course.”

He frowned. “Fucking A. I can’t even think about some of that shit.”

I was just getting started. “You’ll never go parasailing. You’ll never zip-line anywhere…ever.” That one did suck. “Holy shit, Mase. What the hell are you going to experience in life? You may as well shrivel up and die now.” I laughed and slapped him on the back. “Does Sam know?”

He gripped the bar in front of us, but threw me a half-smile. “That I’m your big brother?”

“That you’ll never be an extreme sports junkie. Her dream of making love on the side of a cliff will never come true.” I patted my chest. “You know, a year ago I would’ve offered to fill in for you, but—” The joke died. I didn’t have it in me. I liked to get a rise out of him, but my spark was gone. Taylor had snuffed that out. Pretending to hit on Sam no longer gave me joy.