Part 8

Breathless, Veronica stared at Logan as the voice of Duncan's assistant hung between them. Logan's eyes fluttered closed as the inevitability crushed him. For one brief moment over their dinner preparation he had wondered if it could be this easy, for once in his life. If Duncan had died in that accident, it would have been so easy for him to ingratiate himself into her life again. He would be the former friend who had always loved her, there to comfort the widow of his best friend.

In that picture perfect life that Logan had imagined as he served the potato salad, Logan would learn everything that Duncan had fed Veronica and just live with those make believe facts. He would take anything, if it meant she would be part of his life again.

No one relished the possibility that if all went well, and she remembered everything, she would turn around and look at him for the murderer that he was.

Logan was the father who had killed his son.

Had he not pushed her onto the path of the cab, there would be a toddler pulling at her hair every morning. She would not be a lost woman who had no idea who she was. Maybe she would be his Veronica after all was forgiven and the misunderstanding had been worked out. Or she would be Veronica Kane.

But she would know who she was.

Slowly, Logan opened his eyes and saw Veronica's anxious gaze. He took a deep breath and decided, "We're going together."

Veronica nodded and stood up, leaving the food on the table as she made her way to her room to bundle up. Duncan hated it when she stepped outside without warm clothes. When she emerged from her room, Logan had covered the food and placed the dishes aside.

"We can eat when we get back," Logan told her, not mentioning that dinner would depend on the state Duncan would be in when they found him. In fact, they would likely have no appetite for dinner whether or not he was alright.

Veronica walked over to him and waited for his hand to grasp her elbow to lead her out. When he did not, and instead presented his arm for her to hold on to, she smiled and clutched at him.

"I'm exhausted," she murmured in the elevator. "I hardly did anything today and I'm wiped out."

He understood. When your mind went on overdrive, and your emotions churned as much as hers did, then she would really be tired. "You can sleep in the cab," he offered.

"I don't know if I can. I'm so confused. I'm nervous."

He settled her in the cab and slipped inside beside her. She fidgeted as Logan told the driver where they were headed. Veronica looked outside at the tall buildings that they passed, absorbing the way they left Causeway Bay. Within moments, she had slumped against Logan with her head on his shoulder as she dozed restlessly.

Logan looked down at the blonde head and smiled. Her eyelids fluttered as she slept. He prayed to God that memories visited her in those dreams, because it would be his best bet that the past, their happy happy past, would be awakened in her mind. Her hand dropped to his thigh. Logan touched her slender fingers and wondered why Duncan never bothered to place there the platinum ring that he had been itching to give her. Without conscious thought his hand drifted to the warm golden band that hung from a necklace under his borrowed shirt.

"You a tourist?" the driver asked.

Logan was startled back to the present at the voice. Hong Kong cab drivers rarely spoke. They were fast, efficient and quiet. This one seemed unusually eager to chat. "No," his voice rumbled.

"We out of Causeway Bay."

Logan noted the road that the driver took, and figured that he was taking a longer way. "Why are we in Happy Valley?" he demanded. It was the one place he would never be ready to visit again. "You should have cut through the Times."

"Time in the night," the driver explained. "We never get out."

Logan held his breath as the driver maneuvered expertly along the twisting, narrow streets of hell. His hand grasped Veronica's as he recognized the waiting sheds that she often waited under, on those days when she felt ill and he had to saunter into the world to write. They had run down these streets, along the sidewalks, as the rain pelted down on them. They had run because they had no money, but they had laughed all along because they were content.

He had never been as happy in his life as he had been when he lived hand to mouth in what Duncan had referred to as squalor. Logan had been with the love of his life.

The cab turned around the bend, as Logan recognized immediately the building outside. The cab slowed and sputtered, then fell to a stop. Logan's heart thumped, then thundered.

Outside, the golden letters glinted – EATON HOUSE.

"What's wrong?" Logan said in a low voice. Veronica would not wake up to this sight. She would not be forced to wait outside on the street, right in front of where the accident happened. If he knew one thing, that would be it. Fate wouldn't be that cruel. "Take us to the dock now."

"It's okay!" the driver assured him. "You stay inside. I look at car."

Logan watched with hooded eyes as the driver popped the hood and vanished under it. His arm wrapped around Veronica's shoulders as she settled into her sleep. The night was dark outside, same as that night. The only thing missing was the rain.

Veronica's hand reached up and rested on his chest. Logan held his breath so that she would not wake up. However, at the loss of the steady lulling motion of the cab, Veronica woke. Her hand closed over the tiny bump under his shirt. "What's this?" she asked sleepily.

"It's just a ring," he answered.

"Well, I hesitate to educate you, but it should be on a finger," Veronica retorted. Then, realizing how she sounded, she glanced up at Logan. He was looking at her with a glint in his eye, and not in offense as she expected.

Logan took her hand in his. "It's too small for mine. Maybe I'll let you wear it one day. It's just big enough for yours."

Veronica met his eyes in silence, and then, feeling uncomfortable, she noticed that they had stopped. "We're not at the dock," she observed.

The hood of the cab slammed closed, and Veronica jerked up to a sitting position. Logan sat up and glared at the driver. "No more. You hire one more cab."

And that was it. Logan was going to have to lead Veronica out of the cab and have her wait outside the very hotel that Duncan had been occupying the night she ran to him, the night after he took her in brokenhearted violence, the night he had, quite possibly, reacted in anger and caused her to lose their baby.

"Come on. I'll get another cab," he told her. He then stepped out of the cab and walked around to open her door for her. He was about to help her out when she jumped out herself. "I'll just check on the cab. Maybe we can still salvage this."

Logan walked up to the driver and asked the man to pop the hood again. Seeing the smoking engine, Logan shook his head in disgust. He then leaned to check on Veronica. She was not standing where he had left her. Logan stalked back to the front of Eaton House and called out, "Veronica!"

There was no answer. Logan ran to the other side of the cab and glanced down the street. There, he saw her standing in the middle of the street, looking down at the clean street. That particular spot had haunted him in his nightmares. Now, she stood so intently staring at where he had once seen her lying in a pool of blood.

"Veronica!" he yelled, more harshly than he intended. The cab driver stared at him. Logan froze when he saw the headlights flash from the curb of the street. Veronica did not look up. He burst into a run and slammed against Veronica, knocking her out of the street and rolling down until they hit the sidewalk pavement.

A blue vehicle passed them sedately by.

"Are you okay?" he gasped frantically, pushing back her hair from her face. "Veronica?" Logan saw the scrape on her forehead and cupped her face in his hands. "Ronnie, are you okay?"

She groaned and pushed his hands away. "What is wrong with you?" she demanded. Logan saw the sparks in her eyes as she glared at him. "That car was moving so slowly it wouldn't hurt a sleeping cat in the middle of the road!"

He had the grace to look embarrassed. Then, truthfully, he confessed, "I would never take a chance with you."

"Thank you very much!" she responded sharply. "Roll off me now." Veronica wondered why she seemed so snappy around Logan. She never talked like this with Duncan.

Logan rolled off and helped her up to a sitting position, then stood and pulled her up after him. He held her close, and Veronica could hear the sound of his heart beating. She laid her palm against his chest and felt the frantic heartbeat. Veronica looked up and saw the fear still in his gaze.

Veronica saw the scratch on his chin. She reached up and ran her fingertips against it. Logan sucked in his breath and cupped her face. Then, he leaned down and captured her lips with his. Veronica's eyes fluttered closed and returned the kiss. Feeling her respond, Logan wrapped his arms around her and half-lifted her. Veronica clutched at his shoulders, lost in the kiss.

"Logan," she whispered between kisses.

"Ronnie, I love you."

She had the strongest urge to say it back. Instead, Veronica placed her palms on his chest and pushed away from him. "Logan, no. Duncan…"

He swallowed. Logan decided to take a risk. "Do you feel it?"

She squared her jaw. "It doesn't matter," she told him. "We have to go." Veronica turned and at that point, saw the cab approaching. She flagged it down. "My husband is hurt. Don't do this to us."

Logan watched her get in and followed. Once she had said those very words, and he threw them back at her face. He swore he would have Duncan settle this once and for all. Logan unfastened the chain around his neck and slid the ring out. He showed it to Veronica. "When we see Duncan, when you find out everything, and I swear we'll make him tell, you're going to wear this, Veronica."

She turned away from him and looked out the window.

Logan closed his hand around her fist. He prayed she would not snatch her hand away. She turned her hand around and intertwined her fingers with his.

Far away, in a bare hospital room, Duncan Kane hissed at the biting feeling of someone else's hand closing around his injured one. "Veronica," he rasped.

"Mr. Kane, your wife is on her way," Li Shia promised, teary eyed. "Please relax, Mr. Kane. She's coming."

Duncan opened his eyes into slits and took in the woman who had been working for him for so many months, who gave him information without question, who worked long hours to provide everything he had needed. Even on this hour of personal crisis, there Li Shia stood, bending over him, caressing his marred skin. "I want Veronica," Duncan stated.

Li Shia nodded. "Mr Echolls will take her here with him," she explained.

Duncan's nostrils flared. He tried to sit up in bed, but his bandages prevented him. "What do you think you're doing, Li Shia?"

She smiled and comforted Duncan with a hand on his chest, where no burn marks ran through her skin. "It's time, Mr. Kane. You knew it will come."

Duncan glared at his assistant, who then lowered her eyelashes and focused on the sheets. He sighed and squeezed the hand he held.

tbc