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“I don’t give a damn about her rights,” he replies, raising his voice. “As far as I’m concerned she forfeited any rights when she turned her back on us.”
He’s angry and hurt, and I want to help him. It’s what I’ve studied and trained for all these years. “It’s hard to believe that any mother could turn her back on her own child. But it happens. You can’t blame yourself.”
“Huh. Seems to happen a lot in my family,” Logan scoffs. “I did just fine without a mother most of my life. And Rose will, too.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, puzzled. “You have a mother… isn’t Rose staying with your mom right now?”
Logan sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose as though he’s developing a headache. “Yes. But she only came back into our lives after Rose was born. After thirty years of buggering off on me, she suddenly she took an interest in child-rearing when she learned she had a granddaughter. Go figure.”
The pain that Logan’s hidden inside himself is overwhelming and my heart aches for him. To have been so betrayed by the very people that should love you the most. “What about your dad? Are you in touch with him?”
“My father,” Logan says slowly, “… was shot and killed in a street fight when I was ten years old. That’s when my mom ran off—she couldn’t handle his death or the fact that I reminded her of him. Been pretty much on my own since then. I met Jolene in a group home a few years later. We were both more or less orphans, so we stuck together for awhile. The rest is history.”
By now my mind is reeling, shocked at the terrible revelations that he’s sharing with me. I’m in tears, and I want to take all his pain away; show him that there’s someone he can believe in and trust.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked…” I choke back a sob. “Forgive me.”
Logan pulls us both to sit up and cradles me in his arms, though it should be me comforting him. I bury my face in the soft flannel of his shirt, crying.
“Shhh… it’s alright,” he whispers. “Can’t change the past. I’d rather look to the future. And you’ve got your whole future ahead of you. I’m sure it’s going to be a bright one.”
His words sound like he doesn’t plan on being around to see it, and the thought of a future without him cuts through my heart like a knife. I have to tell him how I feel.
“Logan,” I say, lifting my tear-tracked face to meet his. “I love you. I want you to be my future.”
Chapter Eight
Logan
This was a Bad Idea
I rest my chin on her head as I stroke Quinn’s soft blonde hair. I think of her silky skin and juicy tits and eager pussy that I’ve plundered relentlessly for all these weeks, and I’m paralyzed with guilt. It’s driven through my spine like a steel rod and pinned me to the ground with three simple words.
I love you.
She can’t possibly understand the meaning of real love. Hell, I don’t even know if I understand it. I can’t say that I’ve ever known it, or given it. Her words are those of an impressionable, love-struck girl who’s been seduced—by an idea, by a sad story, and by a careless man old enough to know better. Old enough to be her father. My guts twist as I picture Frederick—happily dispensing advice and friendship over a wooden fence, blissfully ignorant to the fact I’m defiling his beautiful daughter practically under his nose.
This has gone too far. Revealing my pathetic past was just the latest mistake in a long line of mistakes. It’s triggered Quinn’s compassion and a false sense of intimacy, and it has to stop right now. For her own good. That bright future can’t be dragged down by an emotionally damaged piece of baggage like me. What was I thinking taking up with a woman half my age anyway? That’s my problem. Thinking with my glands instead of my brain.
I gaze out the darkened windows of my truck and realize I haven’t answered her. She’s waiting to hear the same words in return, and I can’t give them to her.
“God, you’re sweet,” I say, and I kiss the top of her head. “I don’t deserve you.” Quinn snuggles closer and squeezes me tight. I hope that’s enough of an answer for now, but I’ll have to tell her the truth sooner or later. That it’s done. Over. And she’ll hate me for it.
“Can we go back to your place now?” she asks. “Since we have it all to ourselves…
I want to go to bed with you.”
“Good idea,” I say, not because it’s a good idea but because I need to get us out of here and back to the real world. We’ve been stuck in a fantasy far too long already, and there’s no room for fairy tales in real life.
She searches the floor for her discarded panties and skirt as I start the engine, and I’m already rehearsing the painful words I’ll need to say to her in my mind. She’ll be furious, and Rose will be heartbroken. She’s gotten very attached to Quinn, but it would be just too awkward to have her babysit anymore under the circumstances.
Quinn settles against me as we drive home, and I ache inside knowing what I’ve done to her and that I’ll never feel her warmth or her kisses again. The fact I have to break it off doesn’t mean I won’t miss her. Our sex has been incredible because I’ve taught her everything she knows; molded her into my own private temple virgin. I’ve ruined her, and for that, I feel guiltiest of all.
“It’s good that you’re patching things up with your mom,” Quinn says out of the blue. “So that Rose can know her grandma. I didn’t know mine.”
“Me neither.” The question takes me by surprise. I barely knew my own parents, much less grandparents. If I had any, they certainly never came around. I don’t really want to talk about it, and I’ve already told her more than I wanted to about my shitty childhood. “You’ve never mentioned your mother,” I add, not wanting to pry but seeing an opportunity to change the subject.
“She died. In a car accident two years ago.”
