Page 40 of Keepsake

Dash was spread over the couch in the media room, still in his uniform. He didn’t even look at me when I came in and said hello.

His eyes were on the screen, completely ignoring the screams coming from upstairs.

“What’s happening?” I asked, looking up like I could guess without going to see for myself.

“Vienna.” He shrugged and then turned to me. “Logan can handle it.”

He didn’t smirk, but I knew what he was doing. Vienna was having a tantrum, and he was punishing Logan for wanting to be with Lachlan.

“We need to talk.”

“Can’t wait,” he replied, already bored with me.

I couldn’t remember if I was this obnoxious growing up, but I would bet my ass I was. At fifteen, almost sixteen, I was as tall as Dash but also big. Training every day, I was at the peak of my talent. MMA was it for me and everything that got in my way was the enemy, my parents included.

They were wrong. I got a career out of it. I was in the game until I got too old for it. Still, at sixteen, I thought I could do no wrong.

I wanted to compete in the sport I liked. Dash wanted to raise his siblings. As plans go, his sucked, but it was still his plan, and his heart was in it just like mine had been.

Before I lost my temper, I headed upstairs. I immediately wanted to go back down.

“It is not fair! Not fair!” Vienna screamed and went back to crying.

I walked right onto the landing, where it was all happening. Logan was sitting on the floor, her back to the wall beside Vienna’s door.

She was wearing heels for some reason, when I knew she stayed at home with Lachlan, dark pants, contouring her shapely legs, and a simple top.

“What’s going on here?” I asked.

Logan’s head whipped up. She was chewing on her lip, but dropped it as she took me in.

We were so different, Logan and me.

She was delicate and soft. I was not. I was wearing my worst jeans and a stained T-shirt. My heavy boots weren’t made for her floors. My temperament was not good for her life.

Still, the resistance came only from me. When Logan looked at me, she never stared at the stains on my clothing or the brute way which I moved.

It hit me like a ton of bricks that I wasn’t very different from my mom. I decided who Logan was without ever asking her.

“Vienna is having… a day.”

I sighed, coming over I knocked on the door. “What’s going on, Vienna?”

“I WON’T EAT IT!” That was my answer.

I arched an eyebrow and looked down at the woman sitting on the floor.

“Broccoli.” She shrugged. “And peas. Or anything I tried to negotiate. I told her she’s allowed to have likes and dislikes, but she needs to eat proper food.”

“I can’t believe you tried to give her peas. You are an awful caretaker.”

Logan blanched before she realized I was teasing. My lip curved and her shoulders relaxed.

“It’s more than that, of course. I just can’t figure out what.”

Logan had her legs bent, her knees under her elbows, but as she talked, her legs stretched in front of her, revealing yet another parenting book.

Of-fucking-course.

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