Page 13 of All Roads Lead to You

“What happened? You two have been planning this trip since you were in middle school.”

I scowled at my dad. “No shit.”

“Don’t take that tone with me. I understand you’re hurt and angry right now, but that’s not my fault.”

“It is when I know you won’t let me go on this trip alone.”

Dad’s eyes softened because I knew what his words would be before he even did. “You’re right. I don’t want you driving nearly three thousand miles alone. You can wait until we all drive there together to get you boys moved into your dorms.”

“Figures…”

I stood to go outside to smoke in secret before Dad stopped me. “Sit down.”

I sighed and sat, folding my arms over my chest as Nick sat next to me with empathy on his face. I didn’t need or want his fucking pity.

“Why did Hunter back out of this?”

I shut my eyes for a few seconds to stop them stinging. With a deep breath, I said, “His mom has breast cancer. They don’t think she’s going to make it since the cancer has spread. And don’t say anything to them. They don’t want people knowing.”

Mia rested a hand over her heart and looked at Dad. “Oh, god. That poor woman. Surely, there’s something we can do to help or anything.”

“I’ll ask Hunter if it’s okay that you know and want to offer help. Anyway, he told me to go on this trip without him. He needs me to do it.”

Dad shook his head. “I’m sorry, Logan. I know how much this means to you, but I can’t let you drive out there alone.

“Whatever.”

I shoved myself out of the chair and went outside, pulling a pack of smokes from my jeans pocket, ignoring Dad calling me back to talk more. Once I reached the side of the house, I lit one up.

“Fucking hell.”

Chapter 4

Logan

“Where the fuck is it?”

I tore my room apart in search of my record—my missing fucking record.

My entire body thrummed with agitation at losing my chance to travel, all that wasted time working my ass off to save money just so I couldn’t fucking go. All the while, my mind kept playing tricks on me like a cruel bully, telling me possibilities that were fucking impossible—my stepbrother was now single.

I shut my eyes for a second to breathe and remind myself that I hated Nick. I wanted nothing to do with him, and he was nothing but trouble for me—dangerous. I’d spent years carefully constructing my walls. No way would I allow him to knock them down, intentionally or not.

“Fuck!”

I needed to hear it. I needed her record. Whenever I got like this, which was often, I would listen to Rubber Soul by The Beatles. That was the only thing that would soothe me right now, and I couldn’t fucking find it!

Out of breath, I stood in the middle of my room with shit strewn everywhere, grasping my hair. A tornado hit the place—a tornado called Logan. My breath came in gasps from exertion and the rising panic.

“Jesus, what the fuck happened in here?” Nick said, walking in and looking around my room.

It wasn’t his presence that drew my attention, but what he held in his hand. I’d recognize that record anywhere.

My muscles eased, knowing I hadn’t lost my record, but then the red rage filled me. “You fucking stole my record?” I snapped, yanking it from his hand.

“Borrowed,” he corrected, as if that made a difference.

He looked up at me through thick eyelashes, half smiling and half wincing. His guilty expression made me breathe harder and my heart pump even faster.

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