Chapter Ten
"Hey, I'm home," Wallace calls out as he opens the front door that evening. "Lucy, you here?"
Shae has a work dinner and his mom is watching Noah tonight, so Lucy's the only one who might be here.
He has to admit, it's been a little strange having her staying with them this week. She's supposed to be here visiting Veronica, but as far as he can tell, his best friend has barely seen her all week. In fact, Lucy seems to have spent more time with Logan than with Veronica since she arrived in Neptune. Not that that's all that surprising, given how standoffish Veronica's been with everyone lately, but something about the whole situation strikes him as a little odd.
Like, how come he's never heard of Lucy before?
Granted, he didn't see a whole lot of Veronica when she was at Stanford, but still, you'd think she'd have mentioned a roommate called Lucy at least once. And for that matter, how does Logan know her so well when he didn't even attend Stanford and had no contact with Veronica in those nine years they were apart? It all seems a little fishy. Problem is, Wallace can't seem to put his finger on what exactly is wrong with the picture.
"Anyone here?" Wallace calls out as he hangs up his jacket.
He heads through the house towards the living room… and stops when he sees the mess in there.
"What the—?" he mutters to himself, glancing around the room in bewilderment.
The coffee table is in disarray, positioned at an odd angle, the magazines and toys from it now strewn across the floor. And there's a phone on the floor. It's not his or Shae's, so he has to assume it's Lucy's… but where is she?
As he crosses the room, the phone starts to ring with an incoming video call. Wallace bends down to pick it up, seeing the photo of a dark-haired man lighting up the screen, the name Josh underneath it. Lucy's husband. Glancing around for any sign of her, a knot of worry forming in his stomach, he starts the video call.
"Hello?"
"What the hell have you done with my wife?" the dark-haired man in question demands to know, anger clear in his tone. "I swear to God, if you've hurt her…"
"I haven't done anything, I swear," Wallace says quickly. "I just found her phone on my living room floor."
Josh frowns, jaw twitching. "Who the hell are you?"
"Wallace Fennel," he tells him. "Lucy's been staying with us this week. What's going on?"
"You tell me," says Josh. "I was just talking to her when some guy in a mask grabbed her from behind, pressing something over her mouth. She struggled and dropped the phone, and the call cut off. I think she's been taken."
"Shit," Wallace mutters, his mind reeling. "How long ago was this?"
"Few minutes ago," says Josh, his expression turning to one of worry and fear. "I tried to call the cops, but I realised I didn't have any information I could give them… I don't even know the address she's staying at. So, I've just kept calling her phone."
"I don't understand…" Wallace mutters in confusion. "Why would someone break into my house and take your wife? What would they want with her? How would they even know she was here?"
"I have no idea." Josh runs an agitated hand through his hair. "Fuck, she's just a regular small-town girl. She's never been in trouble in her life. What if something's happened to her? What if she's hurt… or worse?"
"Look, we'll find her, okay?" Wallace tries to assure the man, even as fear creeps up his spine. What the hell is going on?
"We'll find her?" Josh frowns at him in confusion. "Shouldn't we be calling the cops?"
"Right. Yes," Wallace agrees quickly, forgetting for a moment that not all towns are filled with corrupt law enforcement officers like Neptune is. "The cops."
"Okay, so what's the address?" Josh asks urgently. "And where in L.A. are you? I'm gonna fly down. I'll get the next flight out."
Wallace frowns, bewildered. "Uh, we're not in L.A., we live in Neptune."
"Neptune?" Josh seems confused. "Where the hell's Neptune? She told me she was visiting a friend in L.A."
"She did? Why would she—?" This is making no sense to Wallace. He shakes his head, focusing back on the task at hand. He gives Lucy's husband his address and phone number, before adding, "Look, I'll get help for Lucy from here. You just get here as quick as you can."
Pans clatter into the sink as Logan, filled with nervous energy, moves anxiously around the kitchen preparing dinner. Veronica's still at work after he dropped her back at the office following her appointment this afternoon. He was hesitant to do so, given how shaken she looked when she emerged from Anna's office, but she insisted on going back to work, and he knew better than to argue when she used that particular determined tone of hers. So, he drove her back to M.I. and then, for lack of anything else to do, came home to the apartment.
Obviously something happened in the therapy session today, and he has a small amount of hope that she might have actually talked to Anna about whatever has been bothering her, but when he asked what was wrong, Veronica just shook her head dismissively and replied with a distracted, "Not now," before asking him to take her back to the office.
So, he's spent the last few hours trying to occupy himself as best he can, trying to take his mind off the haunted look he saw in Veronica's red-rimmed eyes, though without much success. Surfing didn't appeal today—he was too preoccupied to concentrate on staying upright on the board—and taking Pony out for a walk only served as a short-lived distraction. After sitting on the couch and mindlessly flicking through TV channels for thirty minutes, he decided that making dinner would keep him busy instead.
He's just plating up the tagliatelle carbonara he's thrown together and removing a tray of garlic bread from the oven when the front door opens and Veronica slips into the apartment. Logan looks up to see Pony give a bark and bound over to her, tail wagging frantically, and he observes Veronica as she crouches down to greet the dog. She looks better now, though a little tired, and he gives a slight smile when she sees him and stands up.
"Hey," she says softly, walking over to the kitchen island.
"Hi," he replies, "good afternoon?"
She gives a nod and his eyes follow her as she snags a piece of garlic bread from the baking tray and bites into it. It's on the tip of his tongue to ask what happened at the appointment, but he's very aware that he needs to tread lightly. She's not going to talk to him about anything if he tries to push it.
"Dinner's ready," he says needlessly instead, adding slices of garlic bread to the sides of their plates, before sliding them across the counter.
"Great." She flashes a smile which doesn't quite reach her eyes as she takes a seat on one of the stools on the other side.
Logan grabs cutlery from the drawer and fills two glasses with water before sliding onto the stool beside her. They eat in silence for a couple of minutes, and while it's not exactly uncomfortable, there is an awkward tension between them, a very obvious elephant in the room that has yet to be addressed.
About halfway through the meal, Logan glances over to see Veronica has stopped eating and is now mindlessly pushing the pasta around her plate. He frowns slightly. It's not like her not to completely devour one of her favourite dishes.
"Not hungry?" he asks gently.
She gives a shrug, her eyes glued to the food. "Not really."
He hesitates for just a second before asking, "Everything okay?"
Another shrug. Then a sigh, before she slides off the stool and crosses the room, taking a seat on the sofa and curling her legs up under her. Logan's frown deepens as he abandons his plate as well and follows her to the couch, sitting down beside her.
A strange silence hangs between them, and Logan's in the process of trying to decide how best to break it, when Veronica does it for him.
"There's something I have to tell you."
"Okay," murmurs Logan, looking a little surprised. "Whatever is, I'm here for you."
He reaches out, places a soothing hand on her arm, and Veronica feels sick. Her heart is beating so fast and it seems so loud to her ears that she's surprised Logan can't hear it too. Talking to Anna this afternoon, finally talking about it… well, most of it anyway… actually helped. It lifted a weight she hadn't even realised she'd been carrying… for the first time in a fucking long time, she can breathe again, without feeling like something is constantly crushing her chest.
But now that she's here with Logan, and she has to get it all out again, she's scared.
Telling Anna—a relative stranger who is trained to deal with this kind of shit—was one thing, but telling Logan? She's not sure she can do it after all. Not sure she wants to see his reaction. He's going to judge her, she's sure of it. Probably blame her too… and she doesn't think she can handle that.
Veronica closes her eyes, swallowing harshly as she works up the courage to speak.
"Veronica?" Logan sounds concerned.
She opens her eyes again, biting her lip as she looks at him with trepidation.
"I… um…" She can't. She can't do it. "Actually, you know what, it doesn't matter."
She starts to move off the sofa, but Logan's hand on her arm stops her.
"I think it does," he says softly. "You can tell me anything, you know that. Anything. I won't judge. I promise." He waits for a beat, before adding, "Please?"
The sincerity and concern in his tone give her pause and she gives a tiny, hesitant nod and sits back again. Her fingers twist together in her lap and she presses her lips into a hard line as long-suppressed emotion wells up in her chest.
She can't look at him, has to keep gaze fixed on her hands as she mutters, "You were right; something did happen… when you were on that last six-month deployment."
"What was it?" He reaches over and slips his hand in hers, squeezing encouragingly.
The reassuring gesture causes her heart to clench with dread. He's being so supportive and she's about to break his heart.
"I… I was stupid and reckless, and… and I—"
She can't say it. She can't do this to him.
Her free hand comes to her mouth as she tries to clamp down on the emotion, push it all deep inside again.
"Whatever it is, you can tell me."
She finally looks over at him. His face looks slightly blurred through the tears beginning to form in her eyes, but she can still make out the deep worry in his features.
"I did something terrible—" is all she manages to get out before a stuttering intake of breath cuts her off.
"Hey, come here." Logan releases her hand and slides his arm around her, urging her close to his side. "It's okay. Just tell me what happened."
She buries her head against his shoulder, both grateful for the embrace and anticipating its inevitable abrupt ending when she admits what she did.
"There was this case," she finally starts. "It was Dad's, really, and I should have just let him deal with it, but... of course I thought I could take it on, too. I—I didn't know what would… I ruined everything."
"I'm sure you didn't," Logan says gently, running his hand up and down her back soothingly.
"I did," she insists. "I don't know how you'll ever forgive me. I was so stupid."
She squeezes her eyes shut against the memories and a tear finally escapes, meandering slowly down her cheek as she sucks in a hiccupping breath. Logan just holds her, murmuring comforting nonsense in her ear until she manages to calm her frantically-beating heart.
"You okay now?" he asks, his arm loosening around her as she sits up and wipes away the tear.
"No," she mutters, not looking at him. "I can't do this. You're gonna hate me."
"Yes, you can," he tells her determinedly. "And I won't hate you, I promise. Just take it slow. Start from the beginning, okay?"
Relief floods through him when she nods her head and utters a soft, "Okay."
Veronica has him really worried right now and his head is spinning with all kinds of unanswered questions. What on Earth could she have done that was so bad she thinks he'll never forgive her, that he'll hate her? What happened that could have affected her so badly that she felt she had to push everyone she loves, everyone who loves her away?
She extracts herself from his arms, shifting slightly away from him.
Her eyes down, she starts to speak, "Like I said, there was this case… a few weeks after you left. I didn't think anything of it at first, and by the time I realised how dangerous it was, it was too late."
Logan stays silent, waiting for her to continue, even though his heart is beating about a thousand times a second.
"I was following a lead on what I thought was just a regular case. Some businessman suspected of money laundering. I didn't know what I was getting into, or I swear I would have left it alone."
"What happened?" Logan asks tightly, using all of his Navy training to keep his composure while he waits for her to speak.
"I don't know exactly," she says. "I was down at the docks waiting for the guy to show and prove he was involved in something shady. My gut was telling me something felt off, but I ignored it. God, one minute I was taking pictures, and the next I was being dragged from the car by these guys in masks." Her voice cracks slightly. "They took me to a warehouse and tied me to a chair."
"Shit, Veronica." Logan says in alarm. What the fuck? "What did they do to you?"
"They wanted information," she whispers. "Information I couldn't give them. When I wouldn't tell them what they wanted to know, they hurt me."
"Fuck!" Anger rises in his chest. Veronica was attacked? "Who was it? Who did that to you?"
She shakes her head. "It doesn't matter."
"Yes, it does," he grinds out. "I'm gonna hunt them down and fucking kill them."
"It doesn't." She looks up at him then, the same haunted expression on her face as earlier this afternoon, as she places her hand on his arm and says firmly, "And, no. You're not."
"Veronica, you can't just expect me to sit back and—"
"I couldn't stop them, couldn't do anything," she continues, speaking over him, another tear slipping down her face. "I was terrified."
"But you got away?" Logan grinds out, barely able to control his anger.
She nods. "Eventually. I don't remember all of what happened, just that something spooked them and they split. Told me they'd kill me if I blabbed to anyone, then they untied me, and ran off. I managed to stumble back to my car, and to the casual observer, I probably just looked a little banged up—they'd made sure not to leave any obvious marks or injuries—but as I started driving away, I felt this stabbing pain… it hurt so much I could barely drive. I barely managed to get myself to the hospital."
"Why didn't you tell me any of this?" he demands to know, tone harsher than he intended, but the anger coursing through him is in control right now.
Her face crumples again. "I couldn't. I couldn't bear to see your face when you found out—"
She stops, and he stills in response, dread washing over him, replacing the anger. "Found out what?"
"What I did." She looks up at him, fear and apprehension and complete devastation in her expression. "Logan... I killed our baby."
At that, his face drains of blood, a sick feeling curling in his stomach. "You… you were pregnant?"
"I lost it." She nods miserably. "And it was all my fault."
"Oh, Veronica, no." He shifts forward, pulls her tightly into his arms. "It wasn't your fault."
"It was," she insists, words slightly muffled against his chest. "If I had done something different—if I hadn't followed that lead without telling anyone—I wouldn't have fucked up our lives."
"You didn't fuck anything up," he tells her gently, even as his minds reels with all this new information.
Veronica had been pregnant when he left and he'd had no idea.
"I did. We could have had a child, could have been a real family," she mutters, ashamed. "We could have been so happy... and I ruined everything."
"No, you didn't," he insists. "And we can always try again."
"No." She shakes her head against him, and he leans back a little, tilting her head up so she's looking at him.
"No?"
"You don't understand. I really fucked up, Logan." Her lower lip trembles. "There was too much damage. They said I can't have children."
Logan sucks in a stunned breath. "Oh God, Veronica…"
She squirms out of his embrace, standing up and moving a few feet away from him, hugging her arms around herself.
"The look on your face right now? That's why I couldn't tell you," she says sadly, the misery and shame in her expression making his chest tighten almost painfully. "God, you hate me."
"No." Logan stands, quickly making his way over to her and placing his hands on her upper arms, urging her to face him. "I don't hate you, Veronica. I could never hate you."
"You did once," she mumbles, avoiding looking at him
"No. I didn't," he assures her, sliding his arms around her now. "I loved you. I just didn't know how to acknowledge it, or deal with it, because I was an angry, messed up teenager."
She seems to accept that, and she's quiet for a moment, unfolding her arms and slipping them around his back, her forehead resting against his clavicle.
Finally, she speaks, so softly that he barely hears it, "I hate myself."
"No, you don't," he says, his chest tightening with emotion at her confession, a lump forming in his throat.
Is this really how she's been feeling all this time?
"I do," she mumbles against his shirt, her voice filled with pain. "I'm a horrible person. I don't understand how you… how anyone… could love me."
Logan blinks back the tears he feels forming in the corners of his eyes as his heart breaks for her. "Veronica…"
"I wanted the baby, Logan," she confesses, "I know I said I didn't want kids, and I didn't think I did, but, God, when I found out... I was actually happy. I couldn't wait to tell you."
"Really?" Logan can't stop a lone tear from escaping his eye at the thought of what could have been.
She nods against his chest. "But you were busy with that long mission… your comms were down and we couldn't talk for a couple weeks… and then a few days after I found out about the baby, I lost it."
"Fuck, I'm sorry."
He tightens his arms around her and presses a kiss to the top of her head, before stepping back and leading her back over to the sofa. He takes a seat, then urges her to join him, slipping his arm around her again.
"You could have told me what happened, you know."
"I couldn't," she says, curling up beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. "I knew how much you wanted a baby, and I just couldn't do it. Couldn't shatter your dreams like that."
"You wouldn't have," he tells her sincerely.
"I'm sure I would," she insists.
"This was why you were so distant when we finally did talk?" he finally asks the question that has been plaguing him for so long. "Why you started shutting me… shutting all of us… out?"
She nods. "I didn't mean to, but I couldn't deal. It was too much."
There's so much pain in her voice and Logan just wants to soothe it all away, make her forget it all.
"Shae was eight months pregnant by then," she continues, "and Wallace was over the moon, and it hurt so much to see them so happy. Knowing we could've had that, but because of me, we never would."
"It was an accident," he says. "You couldn't have known what would happen."
"I should have," she insists. "Should have trusted my instincts. I didn't, and now we're both paying for it."
"Veronica…" Logan urges her to sit up, turning to face her and reaching out to cup her cheek, gently running his thumb along her clammy skin. ""You can't blame yourself, okay? I don't blame you."
"Why not?"
"Because I love you," he says softly. "More than anything in the world. All I've ever wanted is you."
Her eyes fill with tears again. "Even though I can't give you kids?"
Logan nods, giving a small smile. "Even though."
He hasn't exactly had any time to take in the implications of what she's just told him, but Veronica's wellbeing is his top priority right now. He can deal with the fallout later.
"Even though I've been horrible to you?"
He nods again, reassuringly. "Uh huh."
"Even though—?"
He cuts her off with a gentle kiss to her lips… the first real, genuine kiss they've shared in what feels like ages. He pulls back to see her eyes closed, lips slightly parted, like she's savouring his touch.
"I love you, too," she whispers, before her eyes flutter open. "I'm sorry I've made you feel otherwise. Can you ever forgive me?"
"Forgive you for what?" he whispers back.
She opens her eyes then and gives him a disbelieving look.
He nods, relenting. "Okay, so we have some things to work through, but we'll get there."
"Will we?" She moves and his hand slips from her cheek as she turns to sit straight on the couch. "You walking out on me the other day would suggest otherwise."
Logan opens his mouth to explain his reasoning, but her phone rings before he can say a word. With a sigh, she runs her hands over her face, wiping away the tears, and stands, grabbing the phone from her jacket.
"Hey, Wallace, What's up?"
Logan watches with concern as her expression turns worried.
"What? No, I haven't heard from her. What happened?" She listens for a moment, her eyes widening as her gaze flick to Logan's. "Okay, we'll be right there."
As she hangs up, Logan makes her way over to her. "What's going on?"
She looks up at him with a fearful expression. "Lilly's missing. Wallace thinks she's been kidnapped."