Notes: This is an intense chapter as we get a glimpse into Logan's home life...

TW: child abuse TW: spousal abuse

Veronica

I want to pack the pink unicorn t-shirt so badly, in the hopes that Logan remembers it, but instead I hang it up, relegating it to the back of my closet. My room is pieced back together in time for me to leave tonight, at which point, it ceases to be mine anymore. Even though my mother keeps saying she wants to turn it into an office for my father, so he doesn't have to finish his reports at the dining room table, my Dad insists that they'll keep it as is, for when I return for Christmas and vacations. I. We. When we return. I'm now a we. It's all so new I need to keep reminding myself of it.

Focusing on my freshly made bed—the brightly patterned pink and purple duvet with every colour accent pillow my mother could find placed nicely against the white headboard—I wonder if Logan would fit in the single bed with me. Because where else would he sleep? It wouldn't make sense for him to stay with his parents at Christmas and me with mine.

Looking down at my hands I realize I've been fidgeting with my ring again while I think. A new habit, as the tiny gold band still feels foreign on my body. When I showered this morning at the hotel, I left it on, worried that it would disappear if I took it off. And when I got home, I set about cleaning my room, trying to avoid my mother's questions about what did and did not happen last night, so it just stayed on while I worked.

I heard my father's voice calling out that he was home from work a little while ago, which means he's back from the station just in time for an early dinner with me and mom and to say goodbye. Logan said he would pick me up in the cab around 6:00 pm so we had time to get to the airport and get through security procedures, which always took forever.

There's still an uneasiness in my belly about seeing Duncan, after Logan told me how he took the news that Logan and I had been partnered. We all booked our tickets to fly out together so I'll have several hours of being crammed between them on the flight to Chicago. It was supposed to be fun, all of us travelling to Ginsberg University together, but now I can just feel the awkwardness building. Maybe it will give me some time to smooth things over with Duncan and Logan. They've been best friends for years and I would hate for them to lose that friendship over me. I mean, it's not like Logan or I are responsible for the match—it was Orwell who chose it, not us. Besides, if Logan was matched, I'm sure Duncan will be matched soon and then that will make another couple Logan and I can hang out with at school.

A soft knock on the door and I turn, wincing at the prospect of my mom coming in but I suck it up, knowing it is inevitable.

"Come in."

I'm shocked when my Dad saunters in, a firm smile plastered across his lips. He takes a quick look around and whistles.

"Well, your room looks like it's back to the way it should be."

"Yeah. I didn't want to leave it in a mess." I sit on my bed and cross my legs as my Dad closes the door behind himself, the smile disappearing off his face.

"Is that the only reason you're hiding out in here today?"

"I…well…yes. Why?" His expression has quickly changed to one I know all too well—interrogation mode—the same look he gets when I see him at work and he's about to rake a suspect over the proverbial coals.

He moves to sit on the edge of my bed and nods, pursing his lips as he does. For a moment, there's silence and I wonder what prompted this visit to my room.

"I just wanted to talk to you—check in since I wasn't here when you came home from your big night last night…"

Oh. Shit. Please, don't let him ask about sex.

"…and your mother said you ducked in here pretty quickly looking a little, well, pale and dishevelled, and I just wanted to check…well, I wanted to check to make sure that Logan treated you…properly."

I can't help the snort of nervous laughter that passes my lips. For some reason, the idea that Logan would act improperly never really crossed my mind until now.

"Dad, everything is fine."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. The reason I came straight in here is we stayed up for most of the night drinking copious amounts of champagne and talking and I really didn't feel up to Mom questioning me about what did or did not happen last night."

"So, you were hungover." Dad chuckles and runs his hand over his balding scalp. "That's why you hid."

"Yes. That and I just can't deal with Mom's over-enthusiasm for my life-plans right now. Plus, I really did want to clean my room before I left tonight."

"Okay, well that's good then." His tired eyes meet mine and I finally notice a sadness in them. "Because I want to make sure that my little girl is in good hands."

I cross my arms over my chest and frown. "You make it sound like you're handing me off like cattle. I thought this misogyny was what you fought against in the war?"

"I did." He shakes his head at me again, wagging his finger in my direction. "But this isn't misogyny. This is me, being a parent and sending my only child off into the world with a virtual stranger. Now, I know that Logan has been around our home now and then over the years and he seems like a nice enough boy. But what I'm asking from you is whether you think this nice enough boy will treat you as a partner should be treated—with care and respect."

Biting my lip, I pause to think about what he's saying. Last night, Logan was the epitome of decency. He could have easily just taken whatever sexual advantage of me that he wanted when I was drunk and asleep. He could have demanded arrangements and agreements. He could have overpowered me and just forced me to do what he wanted. But he didn't. All the stories we heard about the heinous ways women were treated in partnerships, once upon a time, could have happened to me last night. But it didn't. And somehow, I just knew it wouldn't have happened. Not with Logan.

Scooting across the bed, I get close enough to my Dad to put my hand on his arm and smile. "He is a nice man, Dad. And I'm only telling you this to set your mind at ease—we have an agreement that we are going into this partnership as friends, with no expectations beyond that, for now."

"Friends?"

"Friends."

My father shrugs, a smile curling back on his lips. "That's not a bad way to start out a partnership. In fact, that's much like your mother and I did, back in the day."

"Really?" My nose wrinkles. Do I really want to hear about my parent's sex life? I push Veronica Prude aside for a second in exchange for Curious Veronica. "How so?"

"Well, your mother probably will kill me for telling you this, but our partnership was not the grand romance she makes it out to be." He scratches his cheek and lets out a sigh. "In fact, I slept on the couch for the first few months of our union, including the night we signed our papers."

"Wow. I did not know that. Mom always made it out to seem like you and her were destined to be together."

Dad shrugs. "Maybe we were. But it took some time for us to get comfortable with each other. And I never forced her to change or adapt to my needs or wants. She chose when she was ready to be with me, when we had you, and she made the choice to give up her career as a florist to stay home with you. I never pushed her to do anything."

"Logan's not pushing, Dad. I can promise you that. And neither am I."

"That's good. Let things happen naturally." He pats my hand, leaning over to kiss my forehead. As he pulls back, he pauses. "Truth be told, I wasn't really worried until your mother started to fret about your disappearing act."

"You weren't? Why?"

"Because the way he kissed your head after the ceremony yesterday told me that he's a boy who actually, truly cares about you. He wasn't going to put on a show for anyone, he wasn't going to grab his chance to share a first kiss with you in front of us. It told me that Logan is someone who is genuinely thinking about you both. And it set my mind at ease."

My stomach tickles at my father's words. I never needed his approval for anything, but it's immensely satisfying just knowing that he likes Logan.

He turns to leave and I continue to sit on my bed, enjoying the warmth radiating from my heart and rippling through my body.

"Oh, but if I'm wrong—" he pauses by the door and turns back to me "—this room is still here for you to return. And I will lock his ass in prison for the rest of his life if he hurts you."

And there it is.

"Noted, Dad." I nod, giving him a small salute. "Wouldn't expect any less."

He opens the door and grins. "Dinner's almost ready. Come out when you smell fresh lasagna wafting through the house."

"Can't wait!" I clap my hands and enthusiastically rub them together.

When my dad closes the door, my smile drops, as do I, flat on my back, and I'm back to looking up at my ceiling. Dad approves of Logan. Not a requirement, but it is nice to know he has the Keith Mars seal of approval. For now, at least.

"For now."

Logan

I help myself to another baked potato as Aaron glares at me. I don't care. I am officially teflon. Partnered with the one person who has the connections that could probably put his ass in prison for beating me. If I had evidence, that is. The scars on my back could have been an accident. But something fresh would do him in.

Reaching over, I scoop up a massive spoonful of bacon bits to sprinkle on the potato as he continues to quietly seethe next to me at the table. Fuck, I'm going to be eating cafeteria food and microwave dinners for the next year at school—better make the good stuff count when I can get it.

Our dinner has been mostly about Aaron tonight, as with most nights, talking about the new production schedule for one of their projects and my mother chiding him about undue expenses with costuming for whatever this propaganda thing is. I have a tendency of tuning out these conversations. At least when Trina was around she added some gossip and fun to the dinner table. Now it's just work-talk while I focus on eating as fast as I can and getting out under the radar.

"So…" my mother takes a sip of her wine and forces a smile, glancing at my dad for a split second before zeroing in on me again. "How did last night go? You disappeared so quickly when you got home I didn't get to ask."

"Good. Really good," I offer and try to block further conversation with a forkful of potatoes.

"Good! That's good…"

"Did you knock her up?"

The potatoes nearly fly out of my mouth at Aaron's question and I cough, trying to clear them before answering.

"What the hell? No!"

"Why not?"

"Jesus, Dad."

He leans in, a sick smile twisting his face. "If you want, I can get a hold of some placebo birth control pills from the studio props department and…"

"Are you fucking kidding me? No!" I slam down my fork and turn to meet his eyes squarely. "Is that how it happened? Did you do that to Mom?"

"No. She did that all on her own, didn't you, Lynn? To trap me into marrying you? Mercifully that one took care of itself. You stuck around."

My mother has gone white as sheet, but she remains stoic, her only response to focus on her glass raising to her lips. The mention of the baby she lost always cuts her and Aaron enjoys torturing her with the memory. And I've been powerless to step in. Until now.

"Besides Dad, are you sure you want her to see me naked?" I feel a sneer creep across my face as I go in for the kill I've been waiting my whole life for. "Let her see the scars from your belt all across my back? When she sees them, there'll be questions and I won't be afraid to answer. Not this time. Maybe I'll even let her tell her dad—show him for myself. Then where will you be? I don't see you being able to pay off or send Mr. Mars away that easily. Do you?"

Aaron grits his teeth as his nostrils flare. A direct hit. He knows I'm right. He knows I'm right and there's nothing he can do about it. The universe stuck me with him as a father. In my head, Orwell just rectified that wrong.

"If you do that…" Aaron hisses. "I will bring so much pain on your mother she will never recover. Do you hear me, boy? I'll come after her so hard she'll wish she was dead. And you will too."

The blood drains from my face, a chill passing over me as if Aaron just ripped my soul from my body. I know he'll do it too. While he's left his physical punishments to me, the psychological torture on Mom has been numerous. Belittling comments. Berating. Humiliation. Flaunting his affairs—secret to the world, but known to her. All of it chipping away at her self esteem until she became complacent and docile at home, only finding freedom in her work with the production company, ever fearful he would take that away too.

"She'll report you. Leave you."

"No. No, she won't. And even if she did, I'd have the last laugh." He points his fork at her, releasing a sadistic chuckle. "Paralyze her, maybe? Or disfigurement? That beautiful face destroyed so even while I'm rotting in prison I'll know that no man would touch her again."

My body starts to vibrate with fight, even as my mind tries to focus on flight.

"If you touch her, I'll kill you before you make it to jail."

At this Aaron just laughs, spearing a piece of bloody steak and bringing it to his lips. "No. No you won't. You haven't yet and you won't now—now that you have Veronica. Just go about your life now Logan. I'll leave you alone to it and you leave me alone to mine, alright?"

He hasn't touched Mom...yet. All these years he hasn't made a physical move against her. And I'll be damned if I'm the reason he does now.

"Fine. I'll leave you alone if you leave me alone."

He smirks, his eyes lighting up knowing he's won again. Just as he's been winning all my life.

"Now just remember...you got those scars when you wiped out on your bicycle on a gravel road on set when you were ten. Remember Logan?" Aaron feeds me my lines, as if I don't already know them. "It was scorching hot, and you weren't wearing a shirt. They had to pull rocks embedded in your skin. Terrible. Absolutely terrible. You screamed for hours in pain."

Well, he has that part right. The first time he beat me with that belt I screamed and cried for hours until I passed out in my mother's arms. The second time, my brain shut off to save me and I don't remember much of anything but the cracking sound of the leather cutting through the air.

"I remember."

The silence weighs heavy over the table as I refuse to break my eye contact with Aaron. He will not get the better of me or my emotions today. I'm hours away from my freedom and he won't take anything more from me tonight.

Pushing my chair back, I stand quickly, glancing between Mom and Aaron. "Cab should be here shortly. I'll be in my room. Come and get me when it arrives."

I take a step and my entire body vibrates with endorphins. I could grab the steak knife right now and quickly slit Aaron's throat. I could punch him in the face, forcing him to punch me and give me some tangible fresh evidence on my body. I want to do so many things to him but instead I just take a deep breath and continue walking towards my room.

In a few hours I'll be gone. In a few hours, I'll be safe with Veronica. Until then, I just need to focus on getting the hell out.