Logan was numb. He'd been trying to think logically, to put himself back together and move on. He'd known people who'd died – hell, he'd killed several people himself. What was so different about this one?
She's different because you loved her.
I hardly knew her. She came into my life three months ago. When I first saw her I tried to kill her.
You still loved her.
Logan told the voice to shut the fuck up. He wanted to cry. Couldn't. Knew he shouldn't, either. That right belonged to the weight of the man in his arms, and his breaking mind, not him. Not the one she hadn't chosen.
Not the one she'd left behind.
She left everyone behind.
Yeah, and she left him behind too. So fucking selfish.
You're not-
Don't even try to say that.
. . . You may be selfish, but you're broken hearted, too. True selfishness would have left Scott on the floor to cry himself out, or punched him when he first pushed you.
Logan brought his hands up to Scott's biceps and squeezed, hard, eyes closed.
I may as well be nice to someone she loved. If nothing else, this is something we share. This is something I understand.