Moonlight on Nightingale Way (On Dublin Street 6)

“Right.” The word was laced heavily in sarcasm.

We fell into an awkward silence, compounded only by the silence of the almost-empty park around us.

“Are you okay?” he said, no longer sarcastic but concerned. “Maia mentioned she was going to Layla’s instead of yours after school because you had a doctor’s appointment.”

I blanched. “Oh… yes. I’m fine.”

“That was the least-fine-sounding fine ever. What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Grace —”

“Logan —”

“I will keep asking until we find Maia, and after I’ve dealt with her, I’ll make you talk,” he warned, sounding completely serious.

I looked up into his eyes and saw the steely determination in them.

Oh shit.

“Fine… It wasn’t a doctor’s appointment. I had an appointment this afternoon at the health clinic.”

“For?” He sounded impatient now.

“A sexual health check.” I stared ahead, not wanting to see his reaction.

After a moment’s silence he said, “Because we had sex without protection?”

I heard something in his voice I had never heard before. Something a lot like hurt. I couldn’t help but look at him, and I found him staring at me in angry incredulity. “Logan, you’ve slept with a lot of women.”

“I use protection.”

“You didn’t with me.”

“Only you though!” He clenched his hands into fists at his sides and picked up speed.

I hurried to stay with him, my heart beating frantically. “I don’t know what to say. I didn’t intend to hurt your feelings.”

“Hurt my feelings?” he sneered. “You didn’t hurt my feelings, Grace. But at least I know exactly what you think of me.”

“I don’t think badly of you. I just think you’ve slept with a lot of women and I was being safe. You can’t blame me for that!”

He stopped suddenly, and I stumbled to a halt to face him. His breathing had increased exponentially. “You must think I’m an irresponsible fuckup. Do you honestly believe I don’t get health checked? Of course I fucking do. I had a health check six weeks ago. I’m clean. I would have told you otherwise.”

“You were with the American after that,” I said, my voice quiet with pain at the idea of him being with her. “Only days before me.”

Logan caught the pain because his features instantly softened, remorse lighting his eyes. “Grace…” He raised a hand as if to reach for me, but I turned away and started walking toward Tollcross.

“Let’s just forget it, all right? We have Maia to worry about.”

We didn’t speak the rest of the way to the club, the tension mounting between us.

When we turned down the wide alley where the entrance to the club was, we took in the line of young people outside, searching for Maia.

“There,” I huffed out in relief, hurrying along the line to where she was standing close to the front. My eyes almost bugged out of my head as she turned to smile at Layla and I saw what she was wearing.

She did not own that dress.

It was short, it was tight, and it was no, no, no, NO!

“What the hell are you wearing?” Logan snapped, shooting past me. Obviously, he agreed with my assessment of the dress.

Maia’s cheeks flushed at the sight of us, but she didn’t look nearly as guilty as she should.

Logan wrapped his hand around her arm and tugged her out of line. She came willingly enough but whined, “Dad, you’re embarrassing me.”

This stopped him, and he turned back around to glower at the girls who had been standing with Maia. One was a tall, very pretty brunette; the other a small, curvy, cute brunette. I presumed these were the infamous Layla and Leigh. “You two, come here!” Logan pointed his finger at them and then at the ground by his feet.

The tall brunette, whom I knew was Layla from Maia’s description, sauntered toward us with Leigh trailing at her back. She was wearing a dress similar to Maia’s, so I could guess from whom Maia had borrowed the dress. “My, is this your dad?” She grinned, raking her gaze over Logan in what was a clearly inappropriate and lascivious way.

Logan’s face darkened, his anger heightening.

I sought to intervene. “Layla, Leigh… Let’s get you home.”

Layla cut me a dirty look. “Are you Grace?”

“I am. And I take it that it was your idea to bring Maia to a club?”

She shrugged. “So what if it was?” She stared at Logan again. “It was worth it to see him.”

“Stop it,” I said quietly, my voice filled with derision. It made her blush in a way no yelling or snapping would do. “You are fifteen years old, not thirty. You’re being irresponsible and ridiculous.”

“Grace.” Maia sounded mortified, but I couldn’t care less. I did not like Layla’s influence on her.

“I’m not sure you’re a good influence on Maia.”

“You’re not her mum,” Layla huffed. “You’re just a nosy, skinny English bitch.”

“That’s it.” Logan stalked past us, and we watched as he spoke to the doorman at the club. The doorman nodded, and Logan pulled out his phone. He returned to us a few seconds later. “There is a cab on the way for you two,” Logan said to Layla and Leigh. “And that huge bloke behind me is going to make sure it takes you home. You” – he pointed at Layla, and she blanched at the anger in his eyes – “stay away from my daughter from now on.”