I nodded. “Fuck our family.”
Logan stopped grinning. The sadness appeared over his face again. Sometimes I didn’t think it ever left him. He said softly, “You and me.”
“You and me.” It always had been. It always would be. “Let’s forget what’s going on for tonight, just one night. Let’s have fun. Then we’ll deal with whatever happens.”
He nodded. “Okay.” He cursed then. “We’re going to have a stepsister. Shit. How’s that going to go?”
I grinned.
“What if she’s ugly?”
I frowned. “Does it matter?”
“What if she’s hot? Would that be worse?”
I didn’t know. In that moment, I didn’t care. Logan knew she was moving in with us. He had handled it better than I thought. Then I said, “I love you, brother.”
He murmured back, “I love you too, big brother.”
We didn’t leave the room, not at first. We didn’t say anything else either. It was a comfortable silence between us. Our lives were changing again. We’d deal. We always did. I didn’t want to go back to the party. For a moment, just one moment, I sat in that room and I wasn’t the Mason Kade everyone expected to deal with. I was hurting. I was angry. I felt like we had no parents, but I did have a brother. Logan met my gaze. He was thinking the same thing. We had each other. We would continue to have each other, but at that moment, we were still the little boys who were hearing their parents break up a family.
I could’ve sat in that room for the rest of the night.
20
MEETING SAMANTHA
“Mason, we have a problem.”
It was the night before they moved in. I gripped the wheel tighter when Logan started laughing like a hyena beside me. Our buddy, Strauss, was dissecting the exchange we witnessed twenty minutes earlier between Kate and Jasmine so I adjusted the rearview mirror to see Ethan better. “What?”
“We have a problem.”
“Then Kate whipped out that bottle and Jasmine pissed her pants, I almost lost it,” Strauss continued to say as Logan kept laughing.
“Shut the fuck up.” I punched my brother. He was drunk, he’d just gotten laid by two girls, and he loved hearing Strauss’ commentary on any chick fight we saw, but I couldn’t take anymore.
“Mase!” Ethan hit my seat. “I told you. I have a problem.”
Logan glared at him. “Shut the fuck up, Fischer. Strauss is talking.”
“You shut the fuck up. Now. I have a problem.”
We were all silent. Waiting. When Ethan didn’t comment right away, Logan reached over and punched his leg. “No follow through, man. That’s your problem. On and off the field.”
“I forgot my problem.”
“Fucker.”
“Yeah.” Strauss shook his head. “We were all quiet, but you lost your turn. You didn’t perform. You gotta think quick on your feet, Fischer.”
“You guys are pissing me off.”
Logan started laughing again. When I heard his voice starting to rise again, I spotted Quickie’s and turned into the parking lot. I’d had enough. As I wheeled next to a gas pump, I turned the engine off and twisted back around. “Logan, go inside and get something to sober up. I’m not taking you home like this.”
He smirked at me as his eyes glazed over. “We’re not going home. You heard Ethan. He’s got a problem.” Then he clambered outside.
When Fischer didn’t follow him right away, I shot him a glare. “Go with him. Calm him the fuck down.”
He grunted, but did as I told him. Logan waited at the front of the car, and when Ethan joined him, I heard him say something about Molly’s pussy.
Strauss started laughing. “I know your brother isn’t high as a kite, but man, he’s acting like it.”
“What do you expect? Two girls blew him.” And he was trying not to think about tomorrow, but I didn’t share that information with him.
I lifted the gas handle and put the nozzle in my car. I knew Logan wanted to fight someone; he kept asking if we could go after the Broudous tonight. I kept saying no. When we fought them, we were going to make sure they wouldn’t come around for a long time, but I felt the itch inside of me too. I wanted to fight someone. I wanted to do physical damage.
I sighed and leaned against my car, waiting for the gas to fill up. We were supposed to help them move in the next day. There was no way we were going to, and there was no way we’d take his money to help move them. The bitch and her spawn would have to move themselves, even though I knew James would end up paying for movers if we didn’t go.
Then I saw her.
It felt as if someone had punched me in the stomach. It was the same girl Logan had googled. Samantha Strattan. It was her.
She was waiting by her car. Her arms were crossed over her chest, hugging herself. She was staring at Logan, who was now inside of the gas station. She had long black hair. It whipped around her from the wind, but it was like she didn’t even feel it. No. She didn’t give a damn. That look punched me in the gut.
She was strong. I saw it in her. She had dark eyes, petite lips, and high cheekbones. Her rack was decent. Her body was long and thin, and her legs were strong. Shit. She was tiny, but her eyes were dead.
This was the bitch’s kid?
Then her shoulders tensed. She’d been studying Logan. Her eyes were eating him up, but not like the two chicks who had just been with him. She looked at him with loathing.
I narrowed my eyes.
I saw her turning—here she came—and her gaze locked with mine. Her eyes widened. She moved away from her car, just a step. It was the same look I got from wide receivers after I sent them to the ground with one touch. They were always shocked by the force and they'd reassess me. Every time. I had shaken her, but she had shaken me too.
Strauss came to stand beside me. He studied her a second before he commented, “Kate’s going to shit her pants by the looks of that one.”
I wanted her. And he was right. Then I smirked at her. This was going to be interesting.
She saw the exchange. Her eyes narrowed and she lowered them for a second.