Never Look Back, page 9
It was December 2nd.
Clarity moved through my consciousness, this whole thing coming to make sense. Except for the part of why he’d brought me with him.
“Okay.” I stared at him, my response not quite a question but begging him to fill in the blanks.
“My family is the only thing that matters to me. Everything I do, I do for them. I will sacrifice anything for them. Reject anything that might bring them harm…or crush it before it has the chance.” A warning lit behind it. His chest vibrated like he was dealing with his own dread.
I knew his statement was his truth.
“I understand.”
“Do you?” That ferocity pierced me in the heart.
I swallowed down the disquiet.
“I do.”
Because he was supposed to be mine, and I’d been living that stark, gutting truth for the last seven years. Sacrificing it all to protect the one that mattered to me.
He gripped the side of my face, so out of the blue my mouth dropped open at the blaze of his palm against my skin. “And here you are.”
I guessed the reality of what I was asking of him had finally penetrated his hardened exterior.
I gulped the trepidation down. “My father promised time. Promised he would allow me this. Here. With you. I have until the New Year. Thirty days. He told me he would order Jarek to stand down.”
Logan let go of a disbelieving sound. “You don’t actually think that pompous prick takes orders from anyone?”
“From my father, yes.” My spirit shook, hoping it was the truth. “Why don’t you take me back to the apartment, though? There’s no reason to drag your family into this.”
Logan leaned farther over the console. All menace and power, the words razors that cut through flesh. “Is it wrong I don’t want to let you out of my sight?”
“You don’t have to protect me.”
His hand spread farther across my cheek. “I might hate you, Aster, but I see your fucking pain. I know you’ve been hurt. So don’t fucking tell me you don’t need protected, even if what you need protected from is yourself.”
My breaths were ragged when he suddenly pulled away and climbed from the car. I was still stuck in the same spot when he opened mine and extended a hand to help me out. “Come with me.”
I obeyed, tried not to whimper when he pulled me against the hot, hard planes of his body as I was struck with a blast of frigid cold.
He balanced me on the slick, frozen ground. “Are you good?”
No.
Not even close.
I gave a quick nod, and he returned his hand to the small of my back as he guided me to the main doors.
Logan dug into the inside pocket of his suit jacket, pulled out two tickets, and presented them to the man accepting them at the door.
“We’d better find our seats.” Logan took my hand and hauled me inside. He wound us through the crowd, and I struggled to keep up as we moved across the lobby and through another set of double doors into a multipurpose room.
The second we stepped inside, the overhead lights dimmed, and people rushed to find a place to sit.
Metal chairs had been set up in long rows, and one aisle ran down the middle leading to a stage at the base of them.
Strings of twinkling white Christmas lights were strung from the ceiling, casting the huge room in a festive ambiance. Decorated trees lined the walls, carols played overhead, and a buzz of excitement filled the air.
Every once in a while, I could hear the squeal of a child from backstage.
Logan’s hand twitched on my back, as if he felt the sting of it, too. But I knew he didn’t come close to understanding what that pain really meant.
How I had to guard myself from getting swept into a fantasy I would never get to live.
A speaker squelched, and a spotlight lit the black curtains that shrouded the stage that was elevated by three feet.
An older gentleman walked out in front of them, a microphone in his hand and a smile on his face.
Logan continued to lead me down the middle aisle as the man began to speak.
“Welcome to this year’s holiday performance. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Gary Murphy, the owner and director of the school, and I cannot tell you how excited we are to have you here this evening. The children have been working incredibly hard to put on this wonderful show for you, and I know you are going to be wowed.”
Everyone clapped.
Anxiousness tightened my lungs as Logan moved all the way down to the front row before he ducked to avoid the spray of a spotlight as he angled for two remaining seats about five chairs in.
My head was lowered like I could hide, too, and I almost breathed out in relief when Logan plopped me onto a chair and slipped onto the one next to me on the left, only that breath hitched in my throat when I saw who sat on the other side of him.
Trent Lawson.
I’d caught sight of him only for the barest flash this morning when I’d been following behind Logan, but I’d ducked out of view so I wouldn’t be discovered.
The man had always been terrifying. A cold current running through his blood and hardening his nearly black eyes. He came with a reputation.
A ruthless one.
Tatted from head to toe, the colors swirled out from beneath his clothing to cover his throat and hands.
Only now, those hands held a newborn baby tucked in a swaddled bundle against his chest.
Every cell in my body shivered. I tried to rip my attention away, but my eyes traced the precious form, my spirit aflutter, my heart in my throat.
Finally, I managed to jerk my eyes from the child only for them to tangle with Trent’s.
Obsidian eyes were wide with shock.
They turned to daggers when he focused them on Logan.
“What the fuck?” he mouthed.
Discomfort blazed.
I wasn’t surprised by the warm welcome.
I knew my name.
I’d worn it like royalty, when really, it’d been nothing less than a cattle brand. Burned into my flesh. Nowhere to go, nowhere to run, not until the day I was slaughtered.
“What’s up, man? You look happy to see me,” Logan whispered back like a razzing to his brother. “Do you remember Aster Costa?”
He hugged me to the side of his chest like we’d remained the best of friends. “A real long time, right?”
“Not long enough.” The grunted words left Trent on a growl.
Nervousness chattered my teeth, the freezing cold from outside dropping by thirty degrees.
This was bad.
Still, Logan just smirked the biggest smirk I’d ever seen and sat back in the chair, looping his arm farther around my shoulders and kicking an ankle onto the opposite knee like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Arrogance rolled from him in waves.
Crashed into me as heat.
I itched, shifted on the hard metal chair.
He pressed his nose into my hair and breathed out, “Relax. I’ve got you.”
“This is a bad idea,” I mumbled back.
He laughed a cocky sound. “All of mine are, Aster.”
He pointed at the older man who was still giving his welcome, Logan’s voice held just for me. “That’s Gary, Eden’s father.”
A question furled my brow.
Logan almost laughed like he was just catching up on the fact I knew nothing about anyone he was talking about.
“Eden is Trent’s wife.”
“Oh.” My lips formed it almost silently. There I sat, taking in the details as if I were the unwelcomed, second wife at her first family dinner.
Gary continued his introductions. “I just want to say how much we appreciate everything you do for this school and this community. We couldn’t do what we do without you. Most of all, we couldn’t do it without my daughter, Eden, our show director and producer.”
An affectionate chuckle left him as a blonde head peeked out from between the part in the curtains and waved.
The crowd cheered and she ducked back in.
I peeked back Trent Lawson’s way. My pulse thugged when I saw who sat on the other side of him.
Jud Lawson.
Logan’s other brother. He had always been a beast of a man, but different than Trent. Softer, maybe, easier to laugh, though it would be a mistake to believe he wasn’t every bit as savage.
It took me a second to notice he had his hand twined with another on his lap. A woman sat beside him, her attention rapt on the stage.
“Now, without further delay, enjoy the show…” Gary waved toward the curtains and the spotlight blinked out.
A second later, it flashed back on to the curtains sweeping open. It revealed a set made of painted cardboard, a winter wonderland of white paper confetti and silver stars that were strung from the rafters.
“Here we go.” Logan murmured it at my ear as if I were in this with him. As excited as he.
I shouldn’t be.
I should guard myself.
If I were smart, I’d get up and leave.
Because I thought maybe I was in more danger than ever when my spirit lightened in a wash of Logan’s joy when Eden showed from the right side of the stage, wearing a black tutu, tights, and pointe shoes.
A row of little angels followed her out.
They spun around, trying to hide their giggles and shy giddiness as they looked out on the audience in hopes of seeing their families.
People oohed and aahed as Eden led the children through a simple dance.
Mostly the Lawson brothers who shouted and cheered when an adorable little girl with two-black buns on the sides of her head came forward and did an off-balance pirouette.
“Go, Juni Bee,” Logan shouted. “That’s my girl.”
He tapped my thigh, whispered close to my ear, “That’s Juniper, Jud’s wife’s daughter. His too, really, even though not by blood.”
“She’s beautiful.”
“Prettiest girl in the room.” Then his voice dropped, turned wicked, wrecked me in an entirely different way, “Except for you.”
I wanted to beg him to stop. To tell him I couldn’t deal with this. That this push and pull was killing me. The gravitation and the disgust. The hatred and the echo of a star-crossed love.
The little girl giggled and blushed and skipped back to the line before three drummer boys joined the group on the stage, marching and beating toy drums.
My spirit did that erratic thing when I saw Gage, the same boy from earlier today, so proud as he drummed to his own beat.
I tried to hold back the rush of affection I felt just witnessing the scene.
An outsider who wouldn’t last dipping her toes into the impossible.
This was so incredibly foolish.
So perfect and so uncomfortable.
So right and so wrong.
I had to wonder if it was just another way Logan had in mind to punish me. If he wanted to toss in my face what I’d missed.
Didn’t he get it?
I already understood I’d missed out on everything.
The loss was profound.
Deep and dark and perpetual.
One class would go out only for another to enter, the performance a mesh of ballet, carols, and small acts.
Each time, Logan seemed to draw me closer. As if in the whimsical fantasy, in the enchanted darkness, he’d forgotten that we were supposed to be enemies. As if he’d slipped back to the time when loving him was a sin but the only thing I’d ever done right.
The show was endearing. Filled with simple joy and Christmas spirit. I did my best not to get swept in the simple triumph of it. In the sweet innocence.
Impossible.
It was bottled in my chest like a shaken concoction. A chemical reaction.
Logan and family and regret.
Hope and warmth and joy.
It grew thicker and thicker with each minute that passed.
It was funny that I’d all but forgotten that Christmas was less than a month away, that it hadn’t mattered, not any of it, not until right then.
“Sweet, isn’t it?” he murmured, though it was tinged in sadness, and his hand slipped free of my shoulder only to thread with my fingers on my lap. He squeezed so hard I had to wonder if he needed to make sure I was real. “That right there, Aster. That’s what I was talking about. That’s what matters.”
He glanced at me.
I got stuck there.
In the man who right then looked so familiar.
My heart panged, and by the time the children piled out onto the stage with their teachers, Eden and her father in the middle, all of them taking a bow, tears clouded my eyes.
The crowd was on their feet for a standing ovation.
I was on mine, too.
Luckily it was expected because there was no chance I could remain sitting. I doubted I could remain standing there, either, not when the overhead lights flipped on, and I suddenly felt as if it were me who was standing in a spotlight.
Once the applause wore off, Trent and Jud both looked between me and Logan.
What did Logan expect me to do now?
Play along that we were old friends?
That we’d kept in touch?
What did they even know about us?
Discomfort shifted my feet as I stood under the force of Trent’s glare and the uneasiness of Jud’s watch.
Logan wrapped his arm around my waist and cinched me close, his smile all easy cockiness and no shits to give, as if the man had stepped into a different persona in front of his brothers.
But I felt the undercurrent of severity in his hold.
“All I’ve got to say is my niece and nephew are superstars. I mean, we know they get it from me, but still, superstars. Both of them are going to grow up to be just like their uncle Logan. Awesome knows awesome.” Logan grinned wide as his ridiculous claim flooded out.
Trent gently bounced the infant against his chest, kissing the top of her head as he sent a grunt at his youngest brother. “In my worst nightmare,” he grumbled.
Logan cracked up, pulling me tighter like I was his lover and not his enemy. “Hey now, that’s just rude. Why you gotta be so mean? I’ve obviously rubbed off on your kid. Did you see him up there? You know he didn’t get that shit from you.”
He pressed a kiss to my temple right after he said it.
My knees knocked. Clammy discomfort clashed with the warmth.
What the hell did he think he was doing?
Trent’s gaze followed Logan’s attentions, his eyes narrowing in speculation. “Aster Costa. Have to say, I’m surprised to see you.”
We weren’t friends.
We weren’t even acquaintances, really. I’d known him from a distance and his reputation and the love Logan had for him.
That was true for all Logan’s brothers.
Both the two still living and standing in front of me and the one they’d lost.
Logan laughed again and shook me around. “Seriously, can you believe it? I ran into Aster here last night, and I thought she should stick around so we could catch up. What luck, right?”
He sent me an overzealous smile.
“Hmm,” was all Trent managed as he lifted the baby higher and pressed his mouth to her head.
Jud cast a cautious glance at Trent before he rounded him and came my way. Nerves shook the ground below before a surprised squeak left me when he suddenly curled me in his massive arms.
At first, I wanted to fight him, but it took only a flash to recognize his embrace was kind, though somehow filled with reservation. “It’s good to officially meet you, Aster.”
“You, too.” I had to force the words out around the lump in my throat.
He tugged the woman who’d sat next to him up to his side.
She was stunning, curvy with a black bob that touched her shoulders. She wore a fitted sweater dress that went all the way to her ankles, a slit up to the knee on the side.
Jud slipped his hand around to her waist, his other going to the tiny bump that barely showed on her belly. “Aster, this is my wife, Salem.”
She stepped forward and shook my hand like we were going to be the best of friends. “It’s really great to meet you.”
She gently smacked Logan’s chest. “Tell me what you’re doing with this guy?”
“Hey, now, hey. Is that any way to treat your favorite brother-in-law? So rude. And here I thought you loved me.”
Laughing, she curled her arm around his waist. “You’re lucky I do, that’s for sure.”
Her smile was playful when she shifted her attention to me. “This one, I tell you, you have to watch out for him.”
“Oh dear Salem, what is this nonsense you say? We all know there’s no looking away from me.” Logan gestured at himself, all tease and arrogance.
The undercurrent of the vapid grin he sent me knocked my knees again, one that promised he was right there, that he wasn’t looking away from me, either, that he knew this was difficult, but he was asking me to do it with him, anyway.
The why was what I didn’t get.
Why not just hide me away for thirty days? But the newfound glint that speared me from that gaze made me wonder if he were contemplating how much it might cost to keep me.
“Ah, here come our superstars.” He gestured toward the side of the stage.
Trent’s wife, Eden, all but floated our direction. She held Juniper and Gage’s hands.
“Holy cow, that was amazing!” Logan shouted as they let go of Eden and came bounding our way. “Like, seriously epic. I see Tonys in our future. Broadway, baby.”
Logan shook his arms in the air like he was catching a dream.
“Right, Uncle, right? I was the best drummer in the whole wide world, right?” Gage bounded across the floor, words flooding from his mouth the entire way.
“Heck, yes.” Logan swept him into his arms. “Seriously, so good. Or maybe it’s a rockstar I see in our future. Those were some wicked drum skills.”
“Wicked?” The little boy scrunched his nose.
My fingers tingled while my feet itched.
Trent grunted again. “Keep it up, man, keep it up.”
