Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
“Are you or aren’t you Logan’s soul mate?” Carter asks.
I look at Logan, who looks equally stunned and ready to strangle Carter.
“I want nothing to do with this circus. I’m going home,” Logan says. “I can’t believe I left our dying mother for this crap.”
Logan turns to leave and doesn’t bother asking what I think. Too bad, because I’m in complete agreement. I want nothing to do with this.
I look at Sofie. “You made me think your life was on the line. I thought they were hurting you or that you were possibly dead.”
“Mila, this wasn’t my idea. I just thought—”
“No.” I point a finger at her. “You went too far.” I turn to leave.
“But in your heart, you knew I was okay. Didn’t you?” Sofie yells out. “Because maybe Carter, as crazy as he is, is right. You’re like a sister to me. Our bond told you I was okay. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have come here. You would have talked yourself out of it.”
I think she just called me a coward.
I don’t bother turning around to reply. Screw her. Screw Carter. Screw these Gusano guys.
CHAPTER THIRTY
This time, Logan and I are seated together in first class. Mostly because there were no other seats available, and I wasn’t about to spend eight hundred dollars on a one-way ticket to Dallas. Logan apparently flies a lot and was able to get some sort of last-minute special fare with his miles.
“Thanks again,” I say, downing my third glass of champagne.
“You might want to take it easy on the bubbles.”
“No way.” I press the overhead button to get the flight attendant’s attention. Once I do, I point to my glass for a refill. “You know, it’s funny because this is exactly where it all started.”
“You getting hammered on cheap champagne?” he says.
“Yes. And no. Sofie was given a free trip for two to Jamaica. First-class seats.” I wiggle my toes. “I still want one of these chairs in my living room.”
“An airline chair?” Logan shakes his head. “Trust me, there are far more comfortable armchairs on the market. I’d know. I have a home theater. Came with the house.”
I look at him and narrow my eyes.
“What?” he says defensively.
“It kills me how I busted my ass working a respectable, normal job, yet basically everyone I know who’s working in the fringe is crushin’ it.”
“Well, you’re not a risk taker. Not until today, anyway,” Logan says.
“That wasn’t me taking risks.”
“I saw you do some pretty stupid stuff today,” he says.
“Don’t call me stupid.” Again.
“I’m not,” he says sternly. “I’m merely pointing out that you jumped without any sort of parachute to save your friend today. You could’ve gotten us both killed.”
“Yeah, well, luckily for us it only turned out to be Carter’s version of Pranksters. But you’re wrong about me. I’m a problem solver. It’s what I do best.”
“You call it solving problems. I call it going all in to help another person.”
I shrug. “What’s your point? They played us. They made us look like idiots.”
“Maybe we use different terms to define ourselves, but at the end of the day, we have something in common: we’re willing to put everything on the line to help the people we care about, regardless of if they deserve it.”
Logan turns his head and stares down with those penetrating eyes. The look of affection and desire punches through the fragile veneer protecting my heart.
I still feel him, feel the it between us.
“Logan, there’s something I need to say.”
“All right.”
“I hate your brother. I mean, I look at him, and I don’t see even a sliver of you. He’s like…the devil, and I want to run him over with my car or maybe a large piece of industrial farming equipment. I want to squeeze his neck, watch him turn blue, and then piss on his grave. That’s how much I hate him.”
Logan frowns. “Harsh. And a teensy graphic. But, okay, I get it.”
I go on, “And I’m telling you this because I sort of agree with him, even if it kills me to say it. I see our connection. But I also see the connection between you two. You and he are always going to be in each other’s lives, even if you don’t speak for five years. That bond will always be there.”
Logan toggles his head, not conceding agreement. “And?”
“And I want nothing to do with that nut.”
He opens his mouth, then shuts it. Then he opens it again, followed by another shut.
“What?” I prod.
“I was going to tell you that Carter isn’t and hasn’t been part of my life for years, but that would be a lie. Even in his absence, he’s been a thorn in my side. The pain he’s caused my mother by refusing to see her pissed me off every day.”
“So he’s with you no matter what.” I was right.