Page 10 of The Rookie
She gives me a warm look. “Thank you, honey. Thirty-two years, we were married. I loved him with my whole heart,” she says with a faraway look in her eyes that pinches my heart.
“That must have been hard on all of you.”
“It was. Hardest damn time in my life. Some of the boys took it harder than others.”
“Like Logan?” I ask, rinsing a mixing bowl.
Jillian’s about to respond when footsteps draw our attention.
Logan is standing in the kitchen doorway, wearing a look of fury.
He overheard everything.
Shit.
And he doesnotlook happy.
5
LOGAN
Forget. This.
Furious, I storm out the back door with Summer hot on my trail.
“Logan, wait!” she calls out after me.
But I don’t wait. I don’t even slow down.
Summer’s been here for less than twenty-four fucking hours, and she’s already talking about me with my mother. If that’s not an invasion of privacy, I don’t know what the hell is. I should have kicked her out on her ass yesterday because she has no right to be here.
And now she’s pretending like she cares about me and the family, and bringing up my father? Fuck that. She doesn’t care about me or this family, despite what she wants my mom to believe. This is herjob.
“Please, let me explain,” Summer calls out. “I’m sorry I brought things up with your mom.”
Scowling, I turn and face her, waiting for her to catch up. “This isn’t going to work. You need to pack up your shit and go back to Boston. You don’t belong here.”
“Logan, please. I was serious when I said I wanted to help you.”
“Yeah?” I scoff. “I don’t see how it’s going to help me to have some psychologist dredging up the past and talking to my family about me.”
She chews on her lip and looks down at the ground for a moment before meeting my eyes again. “I know what it’s like to lose someone, so I have some kind of idea of how you might be feeling.”
It’s not what I expected her to say, and for a moment, I’m speechless. “Who?”
“My mom,” she says quietly. “She was my best friend. Her death devastated me and still does.”
My stomach tightens, and I swallow the sour taste of regret. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
Summer nods. “It’s not something I announce when I meet new people.”
“How long ago?” My tone has softened significantly, and when Summer looks up, she gives me a small, sad smile.
“Two years.” She swallows and takes a breath. “But sometimes it feels like so much longer. I can barely remember her laugh, and I hate that. It kills me.”
A pang of emotion wells inside me. “What about your dad?” I ask, suddenly more interested than I wish I were. She’s supposed to be packing and leaving, but instead I’m asking about her family. And I have no idea why.
“I never knew him.”
