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That gruff plea and the admission which he ground out through clenched teeth, did her in. There was a world of hurt behind those few words.
“I can’t lose Rhia.”
Images of the little dark-haired cherub flooded her mind, and Hannah swore under her breath.
“I told you not to make this about her. It’s not fair, she’s—”
“But this is all about her, don’t you see?”
He released her, and bereft of his body heat, Hannah shivered. Her hand tightened on the door handle, but she couldn’t bring herself to use it and turned around slowly, to see him slumped back behind his desk. Her heart ached, seeing him this dejected, as though he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“Fine, explain this to me then. Why are you so set against Rhia going to live with her grandparents?”
His head shot up, and the silent anger in his dark gaze made her stomach flip over.
“How about the fact that Rhia has no idea who the fuck they are? They disowned Claudia, told her never to darken their door again. She still extended the olive branch, invited them to the wedding, and then Rhia’s christening. I told her not to bother, they would never come, and they didn’t, of course. Rick, he…” He trailed off, ran an unsteady hand through his hair, and shook his head. “From what I can gather that was the first time he hit her.” Hannah couldn’t help her jerk in reaction, and Logan’s smile in answer didn’t reach his eyes.
“Rick didn’t want Rhia christened at all. He hated anything to do with church, so much so, that he robbed Claudia of her dream of the big white wedding—they got married at Gretna, I kid you not.”
“Well, that’s … did they elope then? Do folks still do that?”
Logan laughed.
“She was pregnant by then, and she wanted to get married before she showed, so my asshole brother convinced her this was the best way. It was shabby and cheap, but she was happy at least. Me, I could have strung him up. So many better places to get married quickly, but I digress. I talked him into the christening. Stressed how important it was to her, and he seemed okay with it. Little did I know that he was venting his frustrations privately on her with his fists.”
Hannah’s eyes filled with tears at the scenario he was describing and the weight of guilt which made his voice hoarse.
“You’re not responsible for your brother’s actions, you know. You couldn’t have known he—”
“Bullshit.” That one word sliced through the air like a whip. His hands clenched around the armrests of his leather chair in a white knuckled grip, and he blew out several long breaths, before he relaxed his hold.
“We both have a temper. His has always been more volatile than mine, or rather, he never really took the time to control it. Rick thrives on confrontation. Then again when you fight for a living, you have no reason to rein in your temper. He was a rising MMA fighter, until…”
Logan stared in the distance, and Hannah cleared her throat.
“I see—well, I don’t see. I don’t follow that. Never saw the point in watching men pummel each other for sport.”
Logan made a rough sound at the back of his throat, and Hannah couldn’t stand the distance between them any longer. Rounding the desk, she sat on top of it, and put her hands over his.
“That still doesn’t mean you should have seen this coming. Plenty of fighters who don’t go around beating up women.”
Logan’s hands clenched, the tension traveling up through her fingertips almost too much to bear as he grunted.
“I know that, but I still should have seen this coming.”
Hannah rolled her eyes, and gave those tense digits a squeeze.
“How? Jesus, yes, he was your brother, and she was your friend, but that doesn’t mean you should have known. I’ve met enough abused women and men for that matter in my time volunteering for the shelter to know they’re very good at hiding things.”
He pulled his hands out from under hers and regarded her through narrowed eyes.
“You volunteer? At the shelter?”
Hannah nodded, and he rolled his shoulders and shook his head.
“Why do I not know about this?” The question appeared aimed at himself than Hannah, but she answered it anyway.
“No one knows, apart from the people involved, and I’d like to keep it that way. Folks only ever jump to the wrong conclusions. At best, they make me out to be some form of saint, and I really am not.” Her voice caught as her painful memories chose that moment to make a chokehold reappearance on her vocal cords. Damn it, not now.
