First, this story is predominantly character driven. There is plot and action, but the focus is on the characters and the relationships between them all. Second, this story continues where Jacedesbff's story 'For the Sake of a Friend' left off. I am playing in Jada's sandbox with her permission. Many, many thanks to her for letting me continue her story, which I am counting as Book One of this series. To understand my story, I recommend that you go read her story first. You can find it on AO3 either by searching for 'jacedesbff' or 'For the Sake of a Friend'.
Also, many thanks to my Betas: elise_velez, haleyhazz, His_Beautiful_Girl, Luner Kat, and pyrodaemon. This story would not be as decent as it is without all your input and help.
Trigger Warnings: Mentions of a past Suicide, mentions of previous and current abuse (Emotional, Mental, Verbal, Physical, and Sexual) against multiple characters by different characters. I don't describe the sexual abuse much (just an overview of the crimes and their potential punishments) but I describe several instances of the physical, emotional, mental, and verbal. The violence and sexual relations in this story are typical of what was shown on the show and described in the prequel, 'For the Sake of a Friend', with maybe a little more sexy fun times shown in some spots.
All the Love in My Heart Series
Book Two: The Winds and Rains and the Scorching Sun
Chapter One: Our Choices Seal Our Fate
Friday, March 18, 2005
Logan's Inspirational Message
'The strongest oak of the forest is not the one that is protected from the storm and hidden from the sun. It's the one that stands in the open where it is compelled to struggle for its existence against the winds and rains and the scorching sun.'—Napoleon Hill
SPOILERS: Previously in 'For the Sake of a Friend': Logan and Veronica began dating secretly shortly after Lilly's death. They kept the secret for a year and a half, throughout sophomore and half of junior year, because of several suicide attempts by Duncan. They thought the idea that Veronica had moved on would send him over the edge. However, Duncan figured it out almost immediately and began stalking them. Watching them was the only way he could feel, or so he later said. When Duncan realized the pair planned to come clean about their relationship, he outed them first with an intimate video 'to take control of the situation' and then disappeared. The Kane's offered a fifty-thousand-dollar reward for either proof of life or information leading to finding Duncan. Veronica came up with a plan, and with help from a priest named Father Perez, she figured out how to prove Duncan wasn't dead.
Before they could follow through on Veronica's plan, however, Duncan kidnapped Veronica when he realized she intended to turn over the proof of life to his parents for the reward they had offered. Duncan shot at Logan while he was trying to rescue Veronica and it was at this time that Duncan remembered that he had killed Lilly in one of his epileptic rages. The memories were too much, and he fell into a catatonic state, which the doctors claim will be permanent.
While uninjured by the attempted shot, Logan was still suffering from the wounds sustained during his father's latest beating and Veronica vowed to destroy Aaron. Bobby Lake, a doctor at the hospital, figured out what Logan's x-rays meant and offered to testify to that fact if Logan pressed charges. He and Logan bonded over the fact that Bobby, too, was the victim of an abusive father. His father was a renowned Neurosurgeon and much like Aaron, was well respected in the community, making it difficult to prove abuse.
When Mrs. Navarro's daughter fell ill with Cancer, Meg stepped in to help take over babysitting duty allowing Mrs. Navarro to go be with her daughter. This led to Meg getting to know Weevil and falling in love with him. Like Logan and Veronica, they too dated secretly. When Meg got pregnant, they ran away to Georgia and got married to keep her abusive parents from getting custody of the baby. Logan and Weevil became friendly because of their better halves' growing friendship.
Veronica and Mac teamed up and found proof of Aaron's bad behavior. They uncovered recordings of sex with minors and underage porn sites on his computer. Mac turned off the safeguards that Aaron had set up to wipe his internet history from his computer and hide his IP address. Afterward, Veronica called the FBI and made an anonymous tip which resulted in Aaron being arrested and charged with multiple crimes.
Keith, understanding that Logan couldn't return to an abusive environment brought Logan home to the apartment to help him recover. After a week of healing, he arranged with Alicia for Logan to rent her spare apartment, something beneficial to them both as Logan needed a new residence and Alicia needed a renter. And now on to our story...
With a flip and a flick, Logan Echolls turned his Poppop's cigar lighter in his injured hand while he glanced around his old bedroom. The splint on his pinkie and ring fingers made his movements clunky, but he still turned it round and round before he flicked the top up and then snapped the lid closed every couple of turns.
Despite the mid-March chill in the air, the light from the midday sun filled and heated the room and highlighted Veronica's blonde hair when she glanced at him over the lid of the suitcase she was packing for him. She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head at him so he said, "Sorry, I can't stop, at least not today. PopPop traded for this in Seoul before the North Korean's captured him during the war."
She stopped what she was doing and turned, rubbing soothing circles on his back. "Don't apologize, Logan, you're allowed to have nervous, pent-up energy today." He scratched at the back of his neck beneath the strap for his sling. In the back of his mind he was waiting for the other shoe to drop so she wasn't far off with her nervous energy comment.
She went back to packing and tilted her head to the other side. "He inscribed it, right?"
After turning his hand so she could see the side, he held it out in front of her, "After he escaped from the POW camp, he engraved 'Free at Last' on it. The lighter was on my mom's nightstand after she died instead of inside her purse where she usually kept it. I thought it was a message that she broke free of Aaron's tyranny. That's why I thought she wasn't dead. Though, I suppose being dead means she broke free, too."
She leaned into him, so he let out a deep breath and rubbed his thumb over the inscription. "Anyway, I've carried it with me everywhere ever since I found it. More often than not, I toy with it."
The lighter was à propos that afternoon. He might end up free at last, too. Even though he was only turning seventeen in the next week, his dad agreed to let him move out. Although, he was half expecting Aaron to pop in and say, 'Just kidding.' That or he would go crazy and beat him bloody again like he did two Fridays ago.
It amazed him he had been living in safety for two weeks. It seemed like shorter and longer all at once.
Veronica closed the suitcase she finished packing and walked over to him, stealing a kiss before stepping back and picking up the case, placing it by the door for Wallace or Weevil to carry downstairs. No one, especially Veronica, who was in her overprotective mode, would leave him alone with Aaron wandering around under house arrest. That meant that Veronica never let him out of her sight for more than a second or two at a time, so the heavy lifting fell to their friends.
He pinched his lips together and scratched the back of his neck below the strap for his sling. He'd help them carry everything downstairs, but his whole body had a low-level undercurrent of soreness and Veronica objected when he tried to ditch the sling meant to discourage him from using his rotator cuff a few minutes ago. She was having none of that. She was right, anyway. He'd used the muscles more than he should and Veronica seemed to have a sixth sense about that. Even if he didn't mention it, she somehow knew his shoulder, chest, and upper arm throbbed in time with his pulse, so he wasn't allowed to carry heavy things and everything there was too heavy.
With his gaze bouncing around his soon-to-be former bedroom, he sighed. It was unrecognizable. Trina was a Shutter-fly, so he had tons of family and Fab Four pictures. Before they packed everything there were photos of his mom, Nana, and PopPop covering most of the flat surfaces of the suite.
After picking up the lone picture of his sister and himself off the top of the nightstand, he ran his finger over their smiling faces.
Veronica came out of his closet and glanced at the photo in his grasp before smiling. So, he said, "Trina and I shot this after we stayed up late one blissful night watching horror movies. That evening ties as my favorite memory. For once we didn't argue or pick on each other. Instead, we enjoyed each other's company."
He chuckled. "We even agreed which horror movie franchise is the best." After he gave it to her, she ran her finger over his face and when her finger landed on the hockey mask over their shoulders, she grimaced. "Trina and I took the selfie with Jason on the television behind us because we wanted proof we had agreed with no adults prompting us to get along."
Weevil came into the bedroom from bringing the other nightstand to the van and lifted a milk crate off the floor. He eyed it for a second. "What's with the scrapbooks? Did your mom do them or something?"
There were over a hundred books full of photos, which occupied a small bookcase under the window, so Logan grinned but shook his head. "No, my sister made them. Trina started making scrapbooks before I was born and she always gifts me with a new book every Birthday, Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. And when someone I love dies; she makes one filled with images of us together."
Weevil leaned towards him a bit and Logan released a heavy breath in response. "Although they hated each other, she even created one with pictures of Lilly and me. When she was home in February, she left one of Mom."
Shifting the crate in his arms, Weevil closed his eyes for a second before opening them again. "Um, that was nice of her."
His face softened. "She never gives them in person, though. Instead, she hands me a bought gift in front of everyone. The morning she leaves to return to wherever, I wake up with a wrapped package laying on the pillow beside me. There's usually a note saying she's headed back to L.A. or whatever locale is popular with Young Hollywood that week. Anyway, it's kind of our thing. Dad hates them or at least doesn't appreciate them. I've rescued a few of the ones she's given him out of the trash before she could see them in there."
He scowled. "Your grandmother has salvaged a few, too. I keep his in with all of mine on the bookcase. I always figured if she saw them, I could say that Dear Ole Dad thought keeping all her artwork together was best."
Reaching up, he rubbed the back of his neck with his injured hand. "Fortunately, I never had to sell that lie, but I would have to save her feelings. We may not get along most of the time, but I love her and Dad's an ass so..."
Weevil scratched his cheek. "I hear ya about parents being asses. I live with my grandma for a reason. It's cool that your sister makes scrapbooks for you though. Are they any good?"
A chuckle rumbled in his throat and rattled his ribcage causing him to bring his hand to his side and rub at his fractured ribs. After taking the picture Ronnie still had in her hand, he placed it in the crate. "Yeah, she's talented both with a camera and with scissors and glue." He grabbed the book he was in the middle of reading off the top of his remaining bed stand and put it in the crate, too.
Weevil inclined his head and glanced at the book on top of the crate. "You read Lynn Hamilton? Meg loves her stuff, but I couldn't get into all the mushy love stuff. I never pegged you for reading that sort of thing."
After chuckling again, he rubbed his side. "This book is a romance, but I'm only reading it because it was the last book my mom read. Like you, I'm not into the romance genre, so it's taking so long. Plus, there are emotions attached because it's the book my mom was reading before she died."
He shifted on his feet. "Anyhow, I read other stuff from Lynn Hamilton though. She got her start as a romance author, that is true. However, in the twenty years since she published her first book she branched out from romance and now publishes under three names, Lynn Hamilton, Logan Ruiz, and H. R. Lester. Now she turns out romance, mysteries, thrillers, and horror like it's going out of style. The horror stuff is my favorite. It's all psychological horror instead of the monster horror that's so popular right now."
Weevil took a deep breath and then released it so after shrugging, Logan said, "I'm not sure how, but my mom always got me first editions of all her books signed by Ms. Hamilton. I've got the filming scripts for all her T.V. shows and movies and her stage plays, too, all signed 'To Logan, my biggest fan, with love.'"
He leaned closer to him. "Anyhow, if you like mysteries, suspense, thrillers and horror, once I get settled in, I'll make you a list of the books to avoid that are mostly romance." His voice was low like he was imparting a deep secret.
Weevil smiled and nodded so he grinned back. "And before you ask, it'll be easier to write the short list of her romance books and occasional dud than the fifty books that you should check out."
After shifting the crate so he held it with one hand, Weevil bumped fists with Logan. "I'm gonna hold you to that, Opie. I know I like her movies and T.V. shows, which is why I even bothered trying her books that Meg has, but—"
Logan laughed. "The romance ones are horrible, aren't they? Don't worry, I got your back. In fact, if you promise not to drop any of them into a puddle or the sink then I'll lend you my copies."
Weevil's mouth turned into an 'O'. "You're gonna trust me, your mortal enemy, with signed first editions?"
He gave him a shrug. "Well, we're friends now, right? I wouldn't lend them to Dick or his ilk, but you look like a guy who would treat my books with respect. Prove me wrong and we'll have issues again. Prove me right, Paco, and we'll be bff's forever like our better halves would prefer."
Weevil smirked. "You're probably right, Opie." With a shake of his head, he walked to the door, leaned down and grabbed the handle of the suitcase with his free hand and left with the last of the photos and scrapbooks. All that remained of the pictures were their shadows burned into the walls. The sun bleached out the cream-colored paint around where the frames hung for five years. There was dust, too. As good a housekeeper as Weevil's Grandma was, even Mrs. Navarro couldn't reach behind the furniture with any regularity. He was taking everything including the bed, dressers, and bookcases, so the dust bunnies that were hiding from her were now visible.
Since he can't lift heavy things Weevil and Wallace were helping him out and were there long enough to carry the heavy items to the moving van he rented. He asked Mac and Meg if they wanted to help too, but Meg was pregnant with Weevil's sprog so she couldn't lift heavy things any more than he could.
Then there was Mac, she had a thing with her mom, but would finish in time to come help them unpack at his new place, and Veronica said that that suited her just fine. She wanted to keep Aaron from knowing that Mac even existed for as long as possible since she helped Ronnie get him arrested and put on House Arrest. Right now Aaron was clueless, if however, he found out that Logan had a brilliant hacker for a friend, he'd put two and two together and figure out she was there in his house when he was out and undid the precautions he did to make sure no one could realize he was looking at underage teenage porn.
Say what you want about Aaron, but he wasn't stupid, so Logan agreed that keeping Mac safe was priority number one.
Having her there a week after she got Aaron arrested would have made him more nervous even if it was unlikely that the ass would figure it out while she was here.
Weevil and Wallace finished taking the mattress and bed frame, bookcases, entertainment stand, dressers, and one of the two bedside tables that belonged to his mother's parents down to the van a few moments ago.
After standing in his old bedroom for a minute or two, Wallace returned and ran his hand over the final bedstand. "I've never seen these kinds of nightstands, but they suit you."
He peered at it for a few seconds. "I always liked the dark, rich, red cherry wood. The nightstands were my grandparents.' Mom liked them so much she had my suite made to match them. She had the designers put the same tree and leaf carvings on them, too."
He passed his fingertips over the carving that extended onto the drawer and front-facing wood. "The trees etched into the sides always remind me of the cover of Shel Silverstein's The Giving Tree. The carvings are far more detailed, but it has that same whimsy feel to me."
With his healthy fingers, he caressed the cool brass handle of twisting branches and leaves. The carvings matched the shaker platform bed frame, desk, long-dresser, tallboy, entertainment stand, bookcases, and chaise as if the designers created the whole bedroom set together.
After shrugging, he lowered his arm. "The only thing that doesn't match is the huge wooden chest that sat at the end of my bed. Veronica barely managed to move it before you arrived. She's tiny, my girlfriend, but she's a lot stronger than she looks. Opening doors didn't really feel like helping so she pretty much moved it on her own. Anyway, the trunk has the same vibrant red color of wood. Only instead of the trees and leaves, it has an ornate gold Chinese dragon etched into it. It was a wedding gift from my PopPop to Nana."
Wallace gave a gentle pat to his good shoulder. "That's cool."
He stepped out of Wallace's way. "It was in a back corner of Mom's closet when she died. Dad hates the trunk and always said she should toss it. So, Mom hid it. Nana lost the key years ago. Mom refused to have it taken apart to discover what Nana put inside, and that pissed Dad off to no end."
On the end of a heavy breath, he said, "Honestly, I was afraid he'd smash the thing on principle alone after she kil-led herself." He narrowed his eyes at the crack in his voice, but his friend was kind enough not to mention it, so he soldiered on, "So, I snuck into my parent's suite during the funeral reception and stole it. I didn't want him to destroy it or ship it off to storage with her other possessions."
When Wallace frowned, Logan said, "Now everything in the storage unit is mine. I made sure that the rental agreement has my name on it and not my father's. That way he can't try to steal or destroy Mom's stuff to get back at me for moving out and usurping his authority over me. I didn't want the trunk stored away, though, even if it was safe."
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I don't know why, but I need to have it as close as possible. So, I put it at the foot of the bed where I could always see it."
Wallace glanced around the empty room. "The entire space felt homey, unlike the other rooms."
Logan ran his hand through his hair and winced when the splint on his hand caught in his hair. He gave a slight tug, and the splint came free, though it took a few strands of hair with it. After rubbing at the spot where he ripped out his hair, he shook his head. "Oww! Anyway, Dad had veto power over everything Mom decorated in the entire house. He likes to have magazines come in and take spreads of the mansion, so everything has always had to be to his tastes."
He tried running his hand through his hair again and this time he avoided getting the splint caught so he lowered his hand. "The spreads keep him in the public's mind in between crap piles—sorry movies. My suite was the lone exception. Mom could do whatever she wanted in this room. He always said that no one would ever look in it and if the photographers asked to peek inside, he'd lay it on thick. He respects my privacy, blah, blah, blah, and all that jazz."
When Wallace's eyes widened, Logan thrust his hand in his pocket as much as the brace on his fingers would allow. "So, my bedroom highlights my mother's personality and tastes to a Tee, while the rest of the place is cold and sterile, like Aaron's frozen, black heart."
He shrugged and rocked back on his heels until his ribs protested the use of his core muscles. "I'm not leaving any of my bedroom set behind for him to ruin. It is so quintessentially Mom that I'd never dream of leaving it for him to deface. He's petty enough he'll wreck whatever I don't take with me. If he can't beat me up, he'll destroy whatever remnants of me I leave behind once I'm gone. So, that's why we're taking it all, including my Sleep Number mattress."
Wallace's eyebrows drew together, but he said nothing, so with a pinched mouth and a sour expression, Logan shifted his weight. "Technically, it's my dad's, but I'm betting he won't say a thing now that he knows we hid cameras in here." They were visible now because they removed the bed and dressers, but still.
He slipped his PopPop's lighter out of his pocket. "Is there space for the nightstand?"
Wallace stepped closer to him and placed his hand on his good shoulder. "Don't worry, Logan, we'll make it fit. It's compact enough we could squeeze it into the Xterra if need be."
After taking a step back and saluting him, the moment passed, and Wallace rolled his shoulders before he lifted the stand and walked toward the door. When he reached it, Veronica grabbed the last suitcase and handed it to Wallace.
The teen inclined his head at them and left the room, so Logan glanced around and toyed with the lighter again before striding over to his walk-in closet and opening the doors, taking a last look inside. The space was empty, without so much as a dust bunny inside it, so he returned to the main room as Weevil did, too.
Weevil stared at the television. With a grin on his face, he said, "Okay, you promise your old man's not gonna call the sheriff on me for stealing his big screen?"
He chuckled and rubbed his ribs again. "I got this T.V. for my birthday last year. The one in the pool house was for my fifteenth birthday, so I've got witnesses who saw me receive them both as birthday gifts from Mom. He can't say jack if you take it."
Weevil smirked. "I was mostly giving you a hard time."
He let out a deep breath. "Ordinarily it'd be a valid concern."
With his eyebrows drawn down, Weevil patted Logan's good shoulder before wrapping the cord around his own arm. When Wallace stepped back into the room, they both lifted the Samsung and carried it out to the truck.
He walked into the bathroom and double checked he had everything from the cabinets in there, too. After opening the medicine cabinet, he glared at the extensive first aid kit he bought years ago and after sliding the lighter back into his pocket, he lifted the kit off the shelf and stared at it in his grip.
When arms wrapped around him, he jumped a little in place. Veronica tightened her hold on him but not enough to hurt his injuries. "I doubt you'll need such a well-stocked first aid kit anymore but bring it. You do sometimes have a habit of introducing your fists to other people's faces when they say or do inexcusable things and they return the favor."
"I don't want to be like him, but you're right I should bring it to be safe," he said, turning inside the circle of her arms and pulling her snug against him.
She snuggled into his chest. "You will never be like Aaron, Logan. I know you don't have that sort of evil lying inside you. One day soon you'll outgrow your tendency to throw punches when your peers push your buttons and even if you don't, I think getting into fights when provoked is much different than beating a kid in your care who is weaker than you, both in terms of power and force."
Her words sounded true to him and he wanted to believe her, but every time he got into a fight, he got sick to his stomach. However, he never stopped and thought it through before throwing a punch and that worried him.
He didn't say any of that though and they held each other. When he heard Wallace and Weevil talking on their way up the stairs, he pulled away and wrapped his good arm around her waist before they entered. With the kit in hand, they exited the bathroom. Wallace and Weevil both glanced at the pair before Wallace asked, "You want anything else to go?"
Logan shook his head. "No, I packed everything. Ronnie and I got the things I wanted from the pool house including the television before you guys arrived. It's small, so Veronica took care of that one, and I raided the laundry and searched the other rooms before we took everything from there, including my bed, so I checked under it, twice even."
They laughed at that before he motioned towards the exit. "Shall we blow this Popsicle stand?"
With nods all around, Veronica collected the cameras and held out her hand. "Give me your phone until we leave, Logan."
He didn't question her. She was always one step ahead of everyone else, so he pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to her before she beamed at him and they went downstairs. He was twenty feet from the door when his father's cold haughty voice called out from the den, "Forgetting something, Logan?"
He'd prefer to ignore him, but on the off chance what Aaron wanted was important, Logan dragged Veronica into the den and glared at his father.
Aaron held a check sandwiched between his pointer and middle fingers.
After striding to him, Logan grabbed it and looked it over, making sure everything was in order and that he signed it. His eyes widened when he read it, so he cleared his throat. "Uh, I asked for ten grand a month, not a hundred fifty thousand. Did you make a typo?"
Aaron sneered and leaned towards Logan. "It occurred to me that it's my responsibility to keep you in the manner to which you've grown accustomed."
Translation: He'd figured out an angle that would make him appear better in the weary public's eye. Aaron would present himself carefully and make him appear to be an ungrateful brat, but he didn't give two shits what the world thought of him. Veronica loved him, and that's the only opinion that mattered.
Okay, that wasn't true. Mr. Mars'—sorry, Keith's—opinion mattered, too, and so did Alicia's and Wallace's… and Mac, and Meg, and maybe even Weevil's. Okay, so he cared what some people thought. The opinions that mattered, though, belonged to those who knew the real him. He didn't give a rat's ass what the bored housewives who read the tabloids thought of him.
His old man, on the other hand, cared very much about their opinions. Right then they and everybody else knew Aaron was a pervert who slept with teenage girls and recorded himself having sex with them. He was exactly what they thought he was and so much more. What people didn't know was Aaron Echolls was a child abuser.
The first time he remembered Aaron hitting him was the week after he turned six. His father broke his cheekbone but didn't take him to the E.R. He should have gotten at least three stitches, though, when Aaron split open the skin of his cheek. If you looked, you could still see the wide, yet faint, scar below his eye from the flashy ring Aaron wore and his cheeks were asymmetrical.
Aaron had beaten him most days since then with the only respite being when he and his mother didn't go when his father was away on location or on a press tour, which, in his humble opinion, wasn't often enough.
Now, though, he and Veronica had accumulated most of his medical records. They could prove Aaron had put him in the hospital dozens of times. He even had a doctor willing to testify what his x-rays meant.
He doubted he'd ever take Dr. 'Just call me Bobby' Lake up on his offer. It was nice having it, though, and it was enough to cause Aaron to allow him to leave with a nice-sized check, too.
He bit his lip and held in a slew of snide remarks from slipping out. At this point, he was getting what he wanted so it would be better not to antagonize him. 'See Dad, I can think before I speak, not that you'll ever recognize that.'
He didn't let on that he knew Aaron was playing an angle, either, so, instead, he beamed. "Thanks."
Aaron scowled. "Barry will call you this weekend to arrange direct deposit, so I won't have to bother writing a check every month."
It figured he'd put in the least amount of effort possible and not take the time to sign a check once a month for his son. Oh well, Aaron was more likely to forget about the arrangement this way. So, at least he would continue to have those deposits to look forward to. Plus, if he was lucky, as a bonus Aaron wouldn't require him to meet with or speak to him to receive his deposit every month.
He resisted the urge to close his eyes and take a deep breath. He would never turn his back on or close his eyes around Aaron. The evidence his father didn't care for him even a little still hit him like sucker punch every time Aaron did something that made his opinion clear, but Logan said nothing. Aaron narrowed his eyes at him. "Remember, Son, you may not be living under my roof, but you have responsibilities to this family. You will still learn the five languages I told you to learn by your eighteenth birthday or there will be hell to pay. You will not make a fool of me and you will break the record by this time next year or I will express my displeasure in ways that will make the little incident two weeks ago look like nothing more than a hangnail. Understood?"
With a sigh, he nodded. "I won't disappoint you on this. Can I call Barry if I need help finding tutors?"
Aaron scowled again. "Call Barry either way. He knows who I want to teach you each language. I've already warned them you'll be calling so don't make me look like a liar and a fool. That would be the last thing you ever did."
His muscles tensed and he resisted the urge to turn tail and make a run for it and instead backed up while he stepped closer to Veronica. "I'll call and arrange the first tutor for the next week or two."
Aaron grinned. "Good, five more languages will put you five over what that loser who holds the record claims he can speak. I'll expect you to do a press tour with me after your birthday next year and prove that you're fluent in all sixty-two languages. If you give a better showing than he has, that might make up for the colossal disappointment you've been of late."
He didn't respond. If he argued with Aaron's plans or denied that he was a disappointment he would only get himself beat with witnesses, so he continued nodding and backed out of the room before turning towards the door once he reached the hallway. Then he led Veronica and his friends out of his father's mansion for what he hoped would be the last time ever.
They fit everything into his Xterra, the moving truck, and the Blue Bomber. Three hours later, he, Veronica, Mac, Weevil, Wallace, and his little brother, Darrell, had moved his boxes, suitcases, and furniture into his new apartment in the guest house on Mrs. Fennel's—sorry, Alicia's—property.
He'd been staying there most of the last week and once he deposited his first 'child support' down payment, he would pay her rent.
He pulled the check out of his pocket and peered at it for a minute before placing it in his wallet. It was too late in the afternoon to deposit it, so he'd wake up early the next day and run to the bank. Thank goodness they opened for a few hours on Saturdays. He didn't want to take the chance of Aaron changing his mind and not paying him to stay quiet. If he deposited the check and it cleared, there would still be enough funds to cover his expenses until he turned eighteen and gained access to the first tier of his trust. That would be true even if Aaron didn't follow through and keep paying him. He just had to deposit it in the morning, and it would clear by Tuesday.
He slid the lighter out of his pocket and twirled it between his fingers while he glanced at the clock and his lips tilted upward. Mrs. Fen—Alicia—had insisted that he eat with her and her family when he was home at the right time. He ate dinner with them but breakfast he slept through most days. Bobby insisted after Logan re-injured himself when Duncan kidnapped Veronica, that he home school for the rest of the school year. He wanted Logan to give his body a chance to heal. So, he slept late most days. Well, other than the previous Saturday that is. That day he took his SAT's, despite being in so much pain and finding it difficult to concentrate.
Dinner was in half an hour which would allow him the chance to push most of the boxes into the living area and spare bedroom. He hadn't realized how much junk he had accumulated until he had to move across town. His new digs had a cellar beneath it, though, and many of his boxes went there. The boxes with his video games, books, movies, music, and scrapbooks, though, took up space on the floors of his living room and the extra bedroom. He would go through his stuff in the next few days and put everything away.
When they arrived Alicia told him, "Logan, make sure the boxes and other things don't block the way out of the apartment in case of an emergency." That was such a quintessential mom thing to say, so he exchanged a knowing glance with Wallace and marveled that he was a part of a knowing look involving a parent's care for him.
He came out of his thoughts when Veronica and Wallace came into his brand-new home with his Nana's trunk hanging between them. They were both a little hunched over while they carried it and if he was healthy, he would have helped.
Ronnie made eye contact when she saw him despite the weight of the heavy chest. "I know how important this chest is to you, Logan, so I know you wouldn't want this down in the cellar."
He preferred it at the bottom of his bed, so he had planned to find it and do that. A warmth spread through his chest at the fact Veronica knew him so well. His cheeks heated ever so slightly so because his cracked ribs and busted shoulder couldn't handle its weight, he motioned for them to follow him to his brand-new bedroom with the trunk.
While he walked, he told them both, but mostly Wallace, "The chest was a source of mystery before my mom's death. It's locked and has been my whole life. Mom swore that Nana misplaced the key many years before, but she couldn't bear to part with it due to the sentimental value. She didn't have the heart to have the trunk taken apart either, so although we can tell things are inside, we don't know what they are. She always ended the story by saying, 'But who knows, maybe someday the key will magically reappear when it's most needed.'"
He glanced over his shoulder. "I'm thinking of having somebody take it apart to find out what's inside. I'm curious and have been for as long as I can remember. First, I will go through Mom's things and make sure she didn't hide the key."
Wallace squinted. "You think she hid it?"
He rolled his shoulders and reached up and rubbed his sore one. "Possibly. I wouldn't put it past her. I always got the impression she wanted to keep Dad out of the box. So, right after Mom died, I decided not to search for it, but now I'll be actively looking."
"Sounds like a plan." Wallace nodded after they put the trunk at the base of the shaker bed.
When they stood up, they both took turns giving him a hug before he noticed Ronnie held an envelope. "What's that?"
She grinned and took the few steps towards him, with it held out towards him. "It was on the front stoop and mostly hidden by the doormat when we arrived. It's heavy, and it has your name on it so…"
He dropped the lighter into his pants pocket again and reached out and grabbed the envelope from her but not before stealing a quick kiss. She was right it was heavy. One handed, he shifted his finger under the flap and ripped it open. Inside was a brass key with a number etched on it. With furrowed brows he rubbed his good thumb over the key. "I think it's a safe deposit key like PopPop used to carry on his key chain."
He glanced at Wallace and told him, "His box had the family's essential papers in it. When he was little his house burned to the ground. The difficulties his parents had because of the destruction of their legal documents made him fanatical about keeping those papers in a box at the bank. He wanted them where they'd be safe if the house caught fire again."
With a set jaw, he said, "Mom and Dad argued a couple times that I can remember. She wanted to store their important papers locked up in the bank, too. He said PopPop was a paranoid old man. Now, according to Dad with their fame, the difficulties that PopPop's parents had would be nonexistent. So, he wanted to know why he should waste money on a bank box. Mom didn't have an answer to that."
'How odd to receive a key on my doorstep.' With his healthy fingers on his injured hand, he held the edges of the envelope open and peered inside, finding a typed note. He pulled it out, and read, 'San Diego Peoples Bank. 1309 Monterey Avenue, San Diego, CA 92101.'
He showed the note and key to them. "It's spring break next week. Do you want to go on a side trip to San Diego on Monday and see what's in the box that goes with this mysterious key?"
Veronica tilted her head before she put her hands on her hips. "Wallace works tomorrow morning, but why aren't you and I going tomorrow?"
He laughed and brushed his fist over his sore ribs, hoping to soothe them. "Well, if I wake up early, we can deposit the check at my bank here in town and then drive to San Diego."
She placed her palm over her heart and batted her eyelashes at him, so he chuckled. "Okay, you convinced me to give up my precious beauty sleep."
With a chuckle, she leaned up and kissed him. "I'll make it worth your while."
He wiggled his eyebrows, but she shook her head. "I was thinking of bringing you breakfast. Bobby said you can't do sexy stuff for another couple of weeks."
Wallace groaned. "And on that note, I'm heading into my house. I'll see you guys at dinner."
With a chuckle, he waved at his friend and sat on the bed before pulling Ronnie onto his lap and pecking the corner of her mouth. "I don't need sex, making out works, too. We haven't connected in a while."
She brushed her nose against the tip of his. "I didn't want to push you too far, too fast. I need you to be at a hundred percent. Your safety and health are more important than kissing you or having sex, far more important. You are more important to me than anything and anyone else in the world, Logan, even my own pleasure."
He leaned in and kissed her again before telling her, "Well, I appreciate that and so do my ribs, but a make-out session or two is do-able."
She didn't answer and instead leaned in and brushed her lips along his. Her hands glided up his chest, around his neck, and into his hair while his tongue slid along the seam of her lips causing her mouth to open for him. He had just brushed her tongue with his when a knock sounded through the apartment.
With a sigh, he pulled away, and she slipped off his lap onto the bed beside him. He rose, and after kissing her one last time, he went and saw who was at the door.
His head tilted to the side when he opened it and found Alicia on the other side. She returned his grin but had her arms behind her back. "Oh good, Wallace assured me you hadn't fallen asleep after such a busy day so when you didn't come over for dinner I thought you might have forgotten."
He waved his head back and forth. "No, we were going through my things. Did we miss dinner?"
She chuckled. "No, but if you don't hurry, Wallace, Darrell, and Keith might eat it all before you get any."
Veronica walked up behind him and put her hand on his back. "I guess we better get a move on, huh?"
Alicia leaned forward but moved her hands from behind her back revealing a wrapped package in them. "First, I got you a little something, Logan. It's not your typical housewarming gift, but Keith mentioned a conversation he had with you the other day about one of these, and I thought it would be proper to let your inner kid run wild now that you're free of your father."
He had no idea what conversation she was talking about or how he could let his inner child run free, but she handed him the gift, so he held onto it with the arm in the sling and tore off the paper with his injured but free hand. Then he laughed.
She got him the Avengers arm sling he told Keith he wanted when he was in the hospital. He didn't get it though. It would have pissed off his father, so he opted for the boring blue sling. The one time he tried to get a fun cast, Aaron almost beat him again right in the middle of the E.R., so he learned that lesson. But now he was free and what his father thought didn't matter, so he clutched his new sling to his chest and beamed at her.
Her grin matched his. "That's what I like to see, Logan, you smiling and laughing. Can I help you switch them out?"
He fiddled with the new sling for a second before he took off the boring sling. She took the new one from him and showed him a message she wrote inside with a silver sharpie. 'Logan, Here's to giving your inner kid what he needs to get well soon—Love Alicia.'
A tear slipped out of his eye before he wiped it away, and she helped him put on the sling with the Avengers all over it.
Turning to face Veronica, he grinned. "How do I look? Like a complete nerd or what?"
She reached up and kissed him before pulling back. "You look happy and it suits you."
He tossed the old sling into the house where it landed on a box before he turned back to Alicia. "Thank you, just—thank you."
She grinned. "You're very welcome, Logan. We should all have things that make us feel better even when—especially when—we're hurt."
He ducked his head but still grinned. "Should we go make sure there's food left for us? Ronnie might eat us if all the food gets eaten before she gets any."
They all chuckled at that and Alicia motioned towards the other building, and the three of them exited his apartment and walked to the main house for dinner.