Black Light: Charmed (Black Light Series Book 15), page 18
He’d need to go look at that to see how much damage he did there.
Mostly, he kept remembering the look on Cassandra’s face. The way it had changed from shocked to hurt to angry. All the warmth and joy just draining out of her, because of him. He’d always worried that he’d taint her with his darkness, his negativity, but he never thought he’d lash out at her.
Cassandra was everything he wasn’t. Kind, warm, optimistic… happy. If he was less of an asshole, he’d just walk away. Let her go on with her life.
But he couldn’t.
He couldn’t let her go.
Swiping out of her message, he went back to his contacts and tapped a name he never thought he’d actually call. It rang twice before he heard, “Wyatt Strickland speaking.”
“Hey, it’s Logan. Logan Chisholm, we met at—”
“I know who you are, Logan,” Wyatt said, rescuing him from the awkward introduction.
“Good. Well, I…” Clearing his throat, Logan turned in the kitchen, leaning back against the counter as he tried to figure out what the fuck he was doing. “I know we don’t really know each other very well, but I fucked up.”
“I heard.” Wyatt’s crisp response had his stomach dropping. “Wanna tell me your side of the story?”
Logan let out the breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding, rubbing a hand over his face as he nodded at his empty kitchen. “Yeah, thanks.”
At first he wasn’t sure how much he wanted to tell Wyatt, but as soon as he started talking about losing the clients at work, how stressed he’d been the past few weeks as Berringer Holdings continued to cut the legs out from under him… he just couldn’t stop. He told Wyatt about what the losses meant to their bottom line, and how it might mean lay-offs in the first quarter, which would only jeopardize his company’s position further. And then he talked about the drinking. How he knew it had been getting worse, but he’d thought he was handling it… until Cassandra showed up last night.
“What’s worse is I can’t even remember what I said to her that made her leave. I just remember her face, and her saying something about choosing to be happy — but, fuck, I was so drunk. I don’t even remember her getting here.” Logan turned back to the kitchen counter to brace his hand on it. “She’s not taking my calls, or responding to my texts, and it’s not that I even blame her. I just think I really fucked up here, Wyatt. No, I know I really fucked up, and I know we don’t know each other very well, but you’re the only person on the planet that I can even sort of call a friend who might be able to help me dig my way out of this shit.”
The silence stretched on the phone, and while Logan had appreciated Wyatt listening without much commentary and only a few small questions about the work shit, now he needed the guy to talk.
“Wyatt?”
“I’m here, Logan, but…” Wyatt blew out a long breath. “You definitely fucked up. Bad.”
“I know,” he groaned, clenching his jaw as he stared up at the ceiling.
“Just so you’re aware, Cassandra and Vanessa have already talked, and the version of events I got was that she tried to help you with the trouble at work, and you called her an idiot.”
“WHAT!” Logan shouted, not believing he’d ever say that to her. Not even if he was plastered.
“I think the phrase had something to do with her ‘just being a model,’ but Vanessa was pretty pissed when she told me about it, so who knows. This is a pretty miserable game of telephone to be involved in, if I’m honest.”
“I don’t think she’s an idiot. At all. I swear.” Growling under his breath, he muttered a curse. “I mean, I’ve been keeping all the work shit to myself because I didn’t want to burden her with it.”
“You mean you didn’t want to explain it to her?” Wyatt asked, and Logan felt the stab of truth in the statement.
“It’s just complicated.”
“You didn’t seem to have any issue telling me about it,” Wyatt pointed out, and Logan felt his temper rising, but he shoved it down. Wyatt wasn’t the bad guy here. The man was helping him, and if anyone was the bad guy… it was Logan.
“You’re right. I should have just told her about it.”
“Probably would have kept you from this situation. At least… maybe you wouldn’t have called her an idiot. But, apparently, you’re not a very friendly drunk, so before you do anything else, maybe you should start by putting the liquor away.” Wyatt sighed, and Logan could tell he was waiting for him to agree.
“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. I’ll do whatever I can to fix this, Wyatt, but right now she won’t even talk to me.” Shoving a hand through his hair, he gripped it in his fist, fighting the urge to just start screaming, or breaking shit. “How the hell am I supposed to make this right if she won’t even talk to me?”
“Look, Logan, I don’t know if I can help you. I’m not going to make any false promises here, but… I’ll try. Okay?”
“That’s more than I deserve,” Logan muttered.
“You’re not going to get any arguments from me,” Wyatt replied, but there was no humor in his voice. “Cassandra is a sweet girl, and a very good friend of the love of my life. She deserves to be treated better than that, and if you can’t—”
“I can,” Logan said. “Wyatt, I promise you, I will never do something like this again. I can be a better man than this. I will be.”
“Good. I’ll see what I can do. Work on getting your shit together today, Logan.”
“I will. Thanks, Wyatt.”
“Bye.” The call ended before he could reply, but Logan didn’t blame the man. He’d crossed a lot of lines in one night, and the only reason Wyatt was likely even talking to him was that he hadn’t tried some insane BDSM session while he was shitfaced and angry.
No, instead he’d apparently just called Cassandra an idiot and let her walk out of his life.
Leaving his phone on the counter to charge, Logan returned to the living room and sighed.
The bottle of Elijah Craig bourbon had been unopened yesterday, but it just had a couple of inches left in the bottom now, which explained just how plastered he’d been before he finally passed out. Grabbing it, he walked over to the bar and upended it into the sink.
For once, the smell of it didn’t even tempt him.
As he emptied bottle after bottle down the drain, all he had to do was remember how hurt Cassandra had looked and the urge to take a swallow disappeared. He wasn’t thinking about the cost of the liquor, or the way each of them tasted… no, he couldn’t think about anything except whether Cassandra would ever give him the chance to make this up to her.
The shit going on at his company was a nightmare, but the idea of losing her was definitely worse.
She’d tried to get him to understand that so many times. That there was more to life than working, that he needed to enjoy his life. Hell, one of the only things he could remember her telling him before she left was that he needed to choose to be happy. To focus on the good things in his life, and as he emptied another fancy bottle into the sink, he looked around his house and started to understand what she’d meant.
He was fortunate, and although he’d always known that on some level, he’d been raised to focus on everything wrong in his life. To analyze every failure, every misstep, every error, and ensure it didn’t happen again.
To not embarrass the family name.
But, in the end, that shit didn’t matter. His job was an obligation, a requirement, a way to support himself — but Cassandra was his future.
The only future he wanted or cared about, because there was no other option.
For the first time in his life, there wasn’t another woman waiting on the sidelines that he could see himself with, no other possibilities for what could be ‘next’ for him. There was only Cassandra. The only one he wanted to be with today, tomorrow, or ten years from now. She was the only woman he’d ever felt this way about, this strongly. The only woman he’d ever—
Fuck.
He loved her.
The word appeared in his mind, but it didn’t send his heart racing. There wasn’t the slightest hint of panic, but the weight of it still hit him like a punch to the chest, knocking him down another peg. He’d been an asshole to the only person who actually believed in him, who truly believed he was capable of more… of being a good man.
Being better.
Being happy.
It wasn’t even a choice anymore. No matter what it took, no matter what he had to do… he was going to show Cassandra he was sorry. He’d do whatever he had to, anything, as long as she believed he’d never speak to her like that again, that he’d never violate her trust the way he had.
Because he loved her, and at the very least he wanted the chance to say that to her face.
And he wanted to be worthy of her love in return.
Chapter 22
Cassandra
“Your dad is putting up another inflatable out front,” her mom said through a laugh, and Cassandra felt herself smile.
“What’s this one?”
“A big abominable snowman. I swear it’s ten feet tall!”
“The kids are going to love it though,” Cassandra replied, remembering how much her niece and nephews loved the huge collection of Christmas decorations her parents put up every year.
“Oh, Zach and Kiera are already here, so their boys have been having a field day. They’re outside right now helping him put up this massive beast!” Laughing, her mom said something away from the phone, and then came close again. “Apparently Zach has to speak with—”
“Hello, little sister!” Zachary shouted into the phone, and Cassandra rolled her eyes.
“Hi Zach, are you behaving yourself?” she asked, knowing he’d probably been driving their mom crazy all day by trying to help.
“Me? I’m the good one, remember? You and Terrell were the troublemakers,” he argued, but he couldn’t hide the laugh.
“Riiiiight.” Smiling, she leaned back on the couch, enjoying the sound of her mom laughing in the background. “Listen to that, not even Mom believed that lie.”
“I’m reformed,” he retorted, and she could imagine her oldest brother’s broad smile. “When are you going to be here anyway?”
“Just four more days, I promise.”
“Too busy being a world-famous model to hang out with us? I get it.” He was joking, and she knew it, but other than the ‘world famous’ part… it wasn’t far from the truth. Her job kept her away from her family more than she’d like.
“I’ll be there soon enough to keep you from driving Mom crazy. She’s not that old, you know. She can do things for herself.”
“See? This is just more proof that I’m the best kid.” Zach laughed, and then there was a commotion in the background. “It’s Aunt Cassandra. Okay, okay, here’s Alex.”
“Aunt Cassandra! Papa got the biggest decoration EVER!” Alex shouted into the phone, as unable to control his volume as her brother, but at least Alex was cute. Five years old and already more than a handful.
“I heard! Nana said it’s the abominable snowman.”
“YES! It is HUGE!” Alex yelled. “Oh, Nana says I can have a cookie. I love you, bye!”
The phone fumbled for a second, and then her mom came back on the line. “Hey sweetheart, it’s me again.”
“Sounds like you guys are already busy,” Cassandra said, wishing she were already there. Just a few more days.
“We are. Darian and Alex are already planning some last-minute requests for Santa, and they helped me bake cookies today. Terrell should be here tomorrow with Sarah and baby Layla… and then we’re just missing our baby girl!”
“Mom,” she groaned, but she couldn’t suppress her smile.
“What! You will always be my baby girl. I don’t care if you’re taller than me!” Her mom laughed a little, but it faded along with the background noise. “Okay, so I’ve stepped outside for a minute. What’s going on, Cassandra?”
“Nothing!” she answered, sitting up straight.
“You sound off, honey…”
“I’m okay, I promise.” Cassandra tried to put as much energy into her voice as she could, but it didn’t work.
“You’re not okay. What is it?” her mom pressed. “Did something happen with the stuff Roberta was working on? The jobs with the Elite Management people?”
“No! Everything is good, really. I just miss you guys.” Cassandra sighed. “I’m definitely looking forward to being home for a bit… and eating your cooking.” She laughed a little, but her mom didn’t return it.
“Are you sure you’re doing all right?”
“Mom, I’m fine!” she said, but the guilt ate at her instantly. It was a lie, a total lie, and she was sure her mom knew it.
“Okay, honey. Well, we’re looking forward to having you home for Christmas again. Maybe you can come again for your dad’s birthday in March?”
“I’ll definitely tell Roberta about it so we can try and plan a gap for me to fly back. Let’s talk about it when I get home, okay?” Smiling, Cassandra tried to sound normal, but she wasn’t sure what normal sounded like. It had been days since she felt normal.
“That’ll work, honey. I love you very much.”
“I love you too, Mom. Please tell Dad to be safe and that I love him too.” Cassandra smiled, but it felt bittersweet. “Oh, and I guess tell Zach he’s okay before you give my love to Kiera and the kids.”
“There’s my baby girl!” Her mom laughed. “We’ll see you soon. Don’t forget to text me your flight info before you leave L.A.”
“I won’t. See you soon, Mom. Bye!” Cassandra tapped the end call button as soon as her mom said goodbye, and the little voicemail button on the screen taunted her. Glancing at Abelita in the kitchen, she tapped it and picked the latest voicemail Logan had left for her, holding it to her ear so her roommate couldn’t hear.
‘Hey Cassandra… I know I don’t have any right to keep calling you, and it’s probably not helping my case any, but I just want you to know that I really am sorry. For all of it. I was an idiot, and I should have just told you about all the shit at work. I know it doesn’t mean much now, but — fuck. I miss you.’
Hearing his voice was hard, because as dumb as it was… she missed him too, and a big part of her wanted to call him back. He’d been a complete asshole. Shut her out and then blown up at her like it was somehow her fault.
But all the feelings were still there.
Lurking just under the surface, just on the other side of her lingering pain and anger.
Without thinking about it, she tapped the next voicemail on the list.
‘I know I fucked up. I know it. I poured out all the liquor in the house, and I… I don’t want to be like my father. I won’t be. Just call me back, let me explain the shit at work. It’s not an excuse, I’m not making excuses, I— I’m sorry. I never meant to lose you.’
The tears were burning her eyes again, and she bit down on her lip, trying to hold them back, because she wanted to believe him. Hell, if she were honest with herself… she already believed him. He sounded sorry, and Logan wasn’t the type of man to apologize even when he needed to, but he’d called and texted again and again to say he was sorry.
But he’d also shut her out. Assumed she wouldn’t understand the issues he was having at work. Insulted her when she’d tried to help.
And she was still going to be traveling most of the year.
His job was obviously too stressful, too consuming, and it wasn’t like hers was any better. She didn’t get to choose her schedule, or the locations. If Roberta landed her a job, she had to go… and Logan was going to be here in L.A. Dealing with whatever shit was going on at work, and even after this issue went away, there’d be more. He ran a fucking company, and that wasn’t going to change.
No matter how much she missed him, or the way he made her feel, her thoughts always came back to the first one she’d had when he surprised her outside Runway.
They weren’t going to work, because their lives were too different.
And it wouldn’t matter that his touch set her blood on fire if they never got to see each other.
Cassandra wiped at the tears on her cheek, idly scrolling through the list of voicemails, and she went back to one before everything had fallen apart.
‘Hey gorgeous, I just wanted you to know that I’m keeping count of every bratty comment you send over text, and you’re already at eleven. Eleven what? Well, I’m not going to tell you that until I see you, but I’m going to make sure you remember what happens to naughty brats.’
That tingling rush ran over her skin, focusing between her thighs with a needy pulse as she remembered him spanking her before they’d watched Die Hard. By then she’d been up to seventeen, and he’d made every single swat count, leaving her ass stinging when he let her sit up—and then he’d told her to watch the movie. Refused to touch her, kiss her, anything… at least for a while. His willpower had wound down before the movie ended and they’d started making out on the couch.
The memory was bittersweet now. So damn tempting, just like the low purr in his voice when he’d threatened her with a punishment, but she couldn’t—
“Cass!” Abelita snapped at her, smacking the phone out of her hand, and it bounced off the edge of the coffee table before landing on the floor.
“What the hell, Abelita!”
“You were listening to his fucking voicemails again, weren’t you?” Her roommate seethed, crossing her arms as she glared down at her. “I told you to erase those. It’s just dragging this shit out for you.”
“I’m not talking about this,” Cassandra muttered, picking up her phone to set it on the table, relieved that it wasn’t cracked.
“He broke your heart, Cass! That asshole doesn’t deserve a single minute of your time, or the space on your phone he’s taking up with all of his stupid voicemails.” Abelita pointed at herher expression serious. “He’s not worth it, and you know it.”
