Page 96 of Because of Logan

“What about you? Are you okay? How are you holding it together?”

Her hands run through my hair, and I fight the urge to close my eyes and lean into her touch like a puppy.

“I was scared. Terrified. But not for myself. I was sure I’d be okay. I was afraid for you. I knew you had to be around. I just knew that as soon as someone called the cops, you’d be near, and I was terrified that whoever was out there was going to hurt you.”

“Oh, the irony. You were afraid for me and I was afraid for you. And neither one of us was concerned for our own safety.”

“A side effect of loving someone. You put their wellbeing before your own.”

I recognize the truth in her words even though I’ve never experienced it before. Certainly not from my parents. My grandparents, maybe. But thankfully, they never had to make that choice.

I think about it and how little I know about love. I loved my grandparents, but I only got to see them on breaks from school. And I love my brother, who I haven’t seen in a year. I have no idea where he is or what he’s up to. I wish he had come to find me when our father forced his hand instead of enlisting when he was eighteen.

I come from a family that always looked perfect on the outside. And I didn’t realize how broken and unhealthy my family dynamic was and is until I was in high school. I look at Skye and River and how they talk about their parents and the way they grew up, and it's so alien to me. I can’t imagine having that kind of upbringing.

Of course, I’ve seen loving families in movies, but it always felt like fiction. The way I grew up, the friends I had growing up, all reinforced the sterile way in which my brother Liam and I were raised. We were never kids. We were projects. Investments for the future of the family business.

It’s a miracle I can even relate to Skye at all. She fills a need in me I never knew I had. I can only hope to fill her empty spaces in the same way.

Chapter Forty-Nine

A week after the shooting,we make it home for Thanksgiving. Logan drives us in the Escalade he rarely uses. It sits in the garage most of the time. He prefers to drive the truck. But this is a much more comfortable ride than his old truck or my little Honda Civic, I have to say.

As soon as we walk up the veranda, the door opens and Mom throws herself at Logan in a tight hug.

“Thank you for saving my baby. Thank you for keeping her safe.”

He’s too stunned to react at first, but his arms find her and hug her back. Not as tightly as she hugs him, though. I come around to Mom’s side, and Logan’s eyes find me over Mom’s head. He’s shocked and speechless.

“Mom, you’re going to scare him off. And how about saving some of that love for the baby in question?”

She hugs me just as tightly. Dad comes out then. Logan gives him a hand to shake, but Dad pulls him in for a hug as well. A manly one, with lots of backslapping.

Dad hugs me next while Mom grabs River.

“We are a hugging family,” I say after everyone has been hugged.

“Better get used to it.”

Mom ushers us into the house, and Dad grabs River’s and my luggage. We don’t carry much. We have a lot of our stuff here anyway.

The smells of my childhood hit my lungs with a flood of memories. Apple pie, wood floor polish, and some kind of roast. One might think all those scents fight each other, but for me, it smells like home. Like bare feet on grass and cool nights reading by the wood-burning fireplace. It smells like laughs, tight hugs, and movie nights. It smells like family. It doesn’t matter that I came home just a couple of months ago. Every time we’re back, I’m reminded of how much I’m loved.

It’s easy to forget and take for granted those we care most about in the middle of the demands of life. This past week, with all that happened, being back home tugs at my heartstrings a little harder.

Logan looks a little bewildered by my family. I take his hand and he gives me a grateful smile.

“Logan, we’re so glad to finally meet you. The pictures don’t do you justice.”

I look at Mom.

“What pictures?”

“Oh, you know.”

Mom waves her hand like I do know. I have no clue what she’s talking about.

“The pictures River sent me. She’s right. You got yourself a Hot Cop, indeed.”

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