Page 30 of Target Me
He had no idea what he was asking.
“I have one place I can go that’s mine. I would continue going there. Otherwise, my life wouldn’t be much different. You just wouldn’t be here.”
Logan frowned, his brows darkening despite the fact I still wore his cap.
“You don’t have friends you’d be hanging out with? I thought I’d have supervised at least one playdate by now.”
“I don’t have any friends.”
Logan chuckled but cut the noise short as he realized I was dead serious.
I didn’t want to talk about this… did I? Family secrets were kept locked up for a reason, but staring into the non-judgmental gaze before me, the knowledge burned in my throat.
“Every girlfriend I’ve had since my mom left has ended up in my dad’s bed.”
“What—”
“He fucks them. It’s some messed up game for him. I get close to someone, and if they’re male, he scares them off, pretending it’s to preserve my honor or some shit. If it’s a female, he seduces them. The last female friend I had is currently in Washington, servicing my father. Hell, for all I know, she was under his desk while I was under yours.”
The laugh that left my throat was bitter enough to burn, and the mouthful of ice cream I’d eaten churned in my gut. The look on Logan’s face was worse as he did the math I’d half hoped, half dreaded he’d make.
“Weren’t you fifteen when your mother left?”
Logan loved my father. Everyone did. I knew he wouldn’t have agreed to this screwy arrangement otherwise. Still, I couldn’t keep the truth from him.
“Yeah. I was.”
God, I couldn’t do this.
Surging to my feet, I gave him a tight smile and excused myself. I didn’t have a plan except to get out from under the eyes of the man who had just had the curtain pulled back on someone he’d idolized. I didn’t want to see the break that occurred when reality hit them. Or even worse, the mental gymnastics some people pulled to maintain the status quo.
The first time it had happened, it had been during a sleepover at our house. Samantha had been her name. I had woken in the night and found her missing from her bed. In the morning, she had strutted into my room and proudly announced she was no longer a virgin. When she refused to report it to anyone, I took it to my homeroom teacher, who gave me a week’s detention and a half-hour lecture on the damage rumors could cause to the reputation of others. Over the years, I’d been called petty, ignorant, and jealous more times than I cared to admit. Not once had anyone seen how wrong his behavior was.
A hand hooked around my elbow and momentum swung me into a hard chest I was getting to know quite well. Resisting the urge to seek comfort in it, I pushed away, only to have an arm wrap around my lower back, pinning me in place.
“I’m sorry he put you through that. It was a really shitty thing to do.”
I heard each word individually, but my brain was having trouble processing the sentence as a whole.
“What…?”
“He abused his power and isolated you when he should have been someone you could trust. In case you don’t already know this, it wasn’t your fault.”
“What…?” The next breath I took hitched as my vision blurred.
“Avery. Hen. It wasn’t your fault.”
A sob broke out of the depths of my chest, and I turned, ashamed of the emotional display. Logan turned me back into him and held me close, returning to the rhythmic stroking he had given me earlier.
“I had to protect them,” I whimpered through my tears.
“I know, hen.” He kept his voice low and soothing, never flinching in the face of my complete undoing.
As my sobs subsided, Logan stiffened and pulled me away carefully.
“Hen, I’m sorry, but I have to ask. Did he ever…?” The question hung between us; the fear of my answer not quite hidden in his eyes.
“No,” I said, and the way his body relaxed made me want to hide the rest of the answer, but I’d started, and I found the words wouldn’t stay put.
