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“Uh, I thought you were at Karen’s,” Eric says a moment later.
Mom walks right over the apple pie, looks at Eric, then at me, then at Eric. Suddenly, her face gets serious. “Is it withhim?” Mom scowls. “The man who’s cheating on his girlfriend? Has he even broken up with her yet?”
Eric gasps at me, probably wondering if I’m withLoganand this man with a girlfriend at the same time. Or if Logan’s got a girlfriend. The thought makes me completely sick. I have an instant, volatile reaction whenever I contemplate it, even for a second.
“Mom, it’s—”
“Complicated?” she says, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, yeah.”
“Then you better explain,” she says sternly, turning around. I don’t know what to do. I can’t tell her about Logan, can I? Or maybe it’s time I stop running.
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
Logan
Michael’s office sits alone on a dusty road, a two-story structure. We parked on the other side of the road with thirty minutes until the meeting. I let my head fall back on the rest, glancing at the dash clock.
“When did it start?” I ask.
Michael picks at a loose thread on his pants and starts pulling. “Two years ago. They showed up one day and told me they were with the mob. For a month, I tried not to pay. Then, they started sabotaging my gear and vandalizing the office. Lately, the payments have become ridiculous. They’re bleeding me dry.”
I look at him, pushing Emma and our baby aside for now. Emma says I’m good at compartmentalizing. That was a word I never had cause to know until she used it. I create boxes in my head. Lock things away. Emma’s the only thing I can never completely ignore, not that I want to.
“Don’t worry. It’s over now,” I tell him.
“It hurt my pride, calling you,” Michael says after a pause, “but I only wanted a loan. I was going to pay you back.”
“You think these lowlifes would’ve left it at that? They’ll bleed you until there’s nothing left. They gave you fake names, by the way.”
Michael flinches. “What?”
“They said they were Tony and Luigi, but that’s crap. They’re not in the mob, either. They’re two-bit criminals by the name of Leon Reynolds and Martin Blackwood. They were imprisoned for grand theft auto a couple of years back. Since then, it seems they’ve moved onto this scam.”
Michael is staring wide-eyed at me. This would be a proud moment, helping my friend, if it weren’t for the obvious complication hanging between us. “How could you know any of that?”
“I didn’t sleep on the plane,” I tell him. “The internet is a useful tool,Michel. I was liaising with a private detective. He’s the top-rated one on the site. I paid him ten times what he usually gets. That was enough for him to dig this up and something else, too.”
“What?” Michael asks.
“A video of these fuckers shaking down a store, claiming to be the mob. The store owner was going to press charges, but then these cowards threatened him. The video was still on file, though.”
“What good will that do?” Michael says.
“The video’s just part of it,” I tell him. “I’ve hired a private security firm, too. Four ex-soldiers. Just think of it,Michel. All those hours on the ice. Years of playing in the league and spending almost no money. Now, I get to put it to good use. I get to make something right.”
He’d called me asking to borrow twenty thousand to pay the criminals off. I’ve already spent over fifty thousand arranging everything on the flight, including the video and the private security firm. I’d spend ten times that so my friend doesn’t have to live in fear.
“But this firm, they’re legal, yeah?” Michael says.
“Completely.”
“So they’re not going to hurt them?”
“Would you want them to get hurt?” I ask.
“I-I don’t know. I’m not sure.”
