Chapter 15

The Lance Hits its Target

Logan took them on a tour of the whole house. By his standards it was a fairly modest home, but Corrine was still blown away. The first floor consisted of the living area, kitchen and huge bathroom with a multi-head shower bigger than a small car. There was also a steam room that could accommodate four which was currently filled to exceed capacity. The second floor contained three more bedrooms – one was empty except for an inflatable mattress on the floor; the other was set up as an office; the third contained work out equipment. There was also a bathroom with a full laundry on this floor. The top floor contained twin master suites joined by another luxurious bathroom sporting a deep Jacuzzi tub. The views out of the west side of the house were incredible. Remotes controlled the various window treatments. One setting could make the winfows opaque but still allow light to filter in and not ruin the view. Another controlled gossamer coverings and blackout drapes.

One of the top floor luxury bedrooms room was a mess. There were clothes on the floor. The bed looked like it had been through a tornado. Every flat surface was littered with clutter – empty cups, empty bottles and cans, pens, discarded take out containers, knickknacks and even money was carelessly scattered around.

The other room was immaculate. The bed was made. A textbook was on the nightstand. A small bookcase was filled with several classics. By the age of the leather, Veronica suspected they might be first editions. Every article of clothing was put away. Veronica knew if she opened a closet or a drawer the contents would be color coordinated. The rooms were a stark contrast but accurately reflected the personalities of their occupants.

"Which one's yours, Logan?" Corrine flirted with him, running her hand suggestively up his arm.

"This one," he lied since they were standing in Dick's messy room.

Veronica and Mac both looked away to avoid cracking up with laughter. Anyone who knew Logan knew he loathed mess, except when he was depressed and oblivious. Even though he was used to having a small army of maids, valets and personal attendants Logan would always take the time to straighten up his personal area. How he and Dick managed to live together for so long was both a mystery and a testament to skill of the cleaning staff at the Neptune Grande. Veronica wondered if whoever they hired to pick up after them here would do the same superb job. Despite his preference for neatness, she had no illusions that Logan would ever lower himself to genuinely clean.

As expected, the messy room was a turn off for Corrine. The disappointment was visible on her face.

Mac grabbed Corrine's hand and opened a door in the hall that Veronica had mistakenly assumed was a closet. Instead it led to a staircase. "Let me show you the roof deck."

Once Mac had Corrine through the door to the roof, Logan grabbed Veronica's hand and pulled her through the bathroom into his room, slamming the door behind him. Releasing her, he moved to shut and locked his bedroom door, then leaned against it as further barricade to any potential intruders. Veronica was initially dumfounded not sure whether Logan was trying to keep her in or other people out but for now, she chose to ignore him. She knew she wasn't in physical danger. Logan would never hurt her.

Turning around she gazed out the windows at the darkening sky. "The view is amazing," she genuinely gushed.

"Yeah," Logan breathed, not looking out the window but rather at Veronica. Satisfied she wasn't trying to escape from him, Logan moved over to lock the door to the bathroom.

"I meant the ocean."

Busted, Logan agreed. "You should see it when every light isn't on downstairs or at sunset."

Veronica had settled herself into the small sofa in a corner of the room and continued to staee out the window. She wasn't looking at him when she spoke. "When did you and Dick move in here?"

"I'm still in shock that there is something the great Veronica Mars didn't know about me," Logan taunted her. "Did the batteries in all of your tracking devices die simultaneously?"

"You know, as hard as this may be for your over-inflated ego to take, but I don't stalk you, Logan," Veronica rejoined. This whole conversation reminded Veronica too much of high school when Logan used to spread vicious rumors about her e-mailing pictures of herself to Duncan in the hopes of getting him back sophomore and junior year.

"Calm down. I assumed Mac told you."

"She didn't." Veronica sounded disappointed. She wondered how long her friends would have kept her in the dark before she found out Logan moved out of the Grande. "It really is a nice house. It must have set you back a pretty penny even in this part of town."

"You'd think," Logan began, "but it's actually Dick's."

Veronica couldn't believe her ears. "There's no way Dick was smart enough to buy real estate. Who read the contract to him?"

Logan laughed. Dick was smarter than most people gave him credit for but he still reveled in his role as the class buffoon. "I don't know all the details but there was something Kendall did called the Phoenix Land Trust and this house was left in trust for Beav . . . Cassidy."

"Really? Kendall? Did she leave you anything while she was passing out real estate to her 'boys'?" Veronica teased him.

Logan wasn't thrilled that Veronica was throwing his relationship with Dick's stepmom in his face but he was willing to accept some good natured ribbing.

"Mac knows more about it than I do. She did all the art work and the website for the company back when she and Beav. . . Cassidy. . . . I don't know all the details but it looks like after their father left Cassidy started his own company. I guess before he went crazy." Logan shared as much of the story as he understood. He also hated to discuss the younger Casablancas with Veronica because of all that had happened. "Anyway, their mother's lawyers found this place – paid in full – when they were sorting through the Estate. Their mom thought Big Dick did this somehow. Everyone assumed he either lost or sold a second property for Dick. In truth Cassidy probably bought it for himself. When probate closed she gave this house – Cassidy's house - to Dick and here we are."

Veronica shivered. Anything about Cassidy Casablancas constituted a living nightmare as far as she was concerned. The mention of his name immediately filled her mind with memories of an exploding plane and then that awful morning after Shelly Pommery's party. She'd never admit it but part of her would always be glad he jumped and a smaller part wished that Logan hadn't stopped her from shooting him.

"Are you cold?" Logan inquired concerned and walking toward her. "I can turn the heat up. . . or get you a blanket."

"No, it's not the temperature." She hoped he understood.

"Yeah, I guess I already processed this and . . . well I've always had a way of divorcing real estate from the horrible things that may have happened there." Logan shrugged off his nonchalance.

"That explains why you were able to live in the Grande for so long after . . . well, after everything," Veronica surmised.

"He never actually lived here, for whatever that's worth," Logan tried to reassure her.

Veronica nodded, acknowledging that revelation as a positive bot verbally replying.

Logan had come over and sat on the small couch with her. There was about eight inches of space between them. "So, do you really like it? A man's home is his castle, after all."

Veronica got up. It was an expansive room with high ceilings but once Logan sat down, the small couch felt too confining. "I do." She took in the rich blues and greens, accented with sea grass and other natural nautical elements against the contrast of the slate grey steel furniture. "It suits you – masculine, strong, elegant yet soothing, but . . . .there's a . . . . movement, a restlessness, like the sea itself." Her voice grew wistful as her sentence trailed off.

Logan was impressed. Veronica wasn't usually so poetic. Although she had phrased it more eloquently than he had, those characteristics where exactly what he'd hope to evoke when he originally envisioned the design of the room. He had been trying to create a space that reflected his love of the ocean without being a hackneyed beach house marred by the tchotchkes available in every seaside souvenir stand. It made him happy that she approved.

Not knowing where else to sit, Veronica perched awkwardly on the foot of Logan's king sized bed and stared at him. He reached out a long muscular arm and snagged a remote control pff the nightstand which he used to shut off the bright overhead tract lights, dim the bed side lamps and add translucence to the windows. Loud music with a heavy bass was rattling the room from the party going on all around them in the rest of the house. The atmosphere in the room became softer and more intimate once he'd lowered the lights which made Veronica increasingly uncomfortable. "I don't know what you think, but a romantic interlude isn't happening."

"Relax," Logan instructed. "I wasn't trying to seduce you. I just wanted less harsh light and to make it seem like no one's in here, in case anybody comes looking for us."

Gazing out of the gigantic picture windows, Veronica allowed herself to dream. "It must be incredible to wake up to this view."

"Any time you want to try it, your side of the bed is always open," Logan offered sincerely. "No strings attached."

Veronica ignored him and returned to her silent contemplation of the dark ocean outside. From here, at night, only the white foam was discernible when the waves pounded the beach. She could smell the salt in the air but since they were inside, she assumed that was just her imagination recalling a sensory memory.

Standing up, Logan walked over to a credenza and pulled it open a vertical cabinet door to reveal a small dorm-sized refrigerator. "You want something to drink?" The 'fridge was filled mostly with alcohol but there were some other beverages stocked as well.

"I'll take a water," Veronica replied holding out her hand for a bottle. "Thanks," she said shyly when Logan's fingertips grazed hers as they made the exchange.

Pulling a beer for himself, then changing his mind and opting for water, Logan came over and sat on the bed next to her. "Are we gonna talk about it, or what?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," declared Veronica. She really didn't. With Logan you never knew. Did he want to discuss the meaning of life or the latest installment of MTV's Jackass?

Regarding here carefully, Logan wasn't convinced she didn't know what he was talking about. "The Castle. Duncan. Your father. Sorkin. The election. . . . . Us. Any of it? All of it?"

Veronica put on her best poker face. She didn't know what Logan thought he knew, but she wasn't going to confirm or deny anything.

"Don't try to play coy with me, young lady. I taught you the game. I know the Castle offered you membership and in exchange for your silence and your help making their little publicity problem go away, you got them to agree to keep Sorkin and his goon squad away from me."

Willing herself to breathe, Veronica searched the room for an escape or an answer before she decided misdirection was her best bet. "I don't know what you think you know, but I don't know what you're talking about."

"I also know the initiation was Thursday night," Logan shared.

Veronica's eyes widened slightly at that revelation. Logan was apparently far more aware of what was going on with her than she was of him.

Exasperated by her refusal to open up, Logan ran his fingers through his hair and exhaled deeply. "This is me, Veronica. First of all, if I pulled this evasive crap on you, you'd taser my ass." When that earned him a reluctant smile, he kept talking. "Second, DK told me all about it. Why do you think he was so confident when he told you that if Sorkin backed down, I would too? He asked me first, Ronnie."

"You saw Duncan?" Logan had certainly been keeping a lot from her.

"Yeah," Logan confessed. "His father sent him the video and he went ballistic."

Veronica put her hands over her mouth and cast her eyes down in embarrassment. Duncan saw the video. That must have been what he meant when he'd said he knew everything. Would her shame never end?

Logan continued. "He got home shortly after you left for your internship. He barged into the Grande and leveled me, laid me flat out. I never even saw it coming." Logan was playing with his jaw, moving it from side to side as if trying to realign it, phantom pain returning at the memory of Duncan's rage. "I gotta say, I didn't think he had it in him, but I understand exactly how he felt."

Veronica was confused. Logan beat the snot out of Piz when he thought Piz taped them. Then he pummeled Gory because Gory admitted to making and distributing the video. Duncan couldn't have thought Logan would tape her. Then again, before it happened people probably couldn't fathom Aaron taping anybody either. It was also clear that Logan was not the guy on the tape.

"He blamed me for not protecting you."

We were back to this. "It wasn't your job to protect me. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself," Veronica insisted starting to rise from the bed.

Logan threw himself backwards onto the bed in frustration, then sat up again. "You just don't get it, do you? It's not that you can't. It's that you shouldn't have to."

"Logan," Veronica started to reply but he cut her off by pulling her back down.

"Don't you understand? We care about you . . . ." Logan decided to go for broke. "I . . . I love you!"

"We already made it past second base. You don't have to say things like that," Veronica hoped to lighten the mood. She didn't want to rehash old battles. She thought the distance she'd been maintaining would end Logan's irrational need to always protect her. She couldn't let him, especially when she couldn't always protect him.

"Uggghhhh," Logan reached toward her and made a motion in front of her face like he was going to wrap his hands around her throat and strangle her. "I'm not just saying that. And even if you can't say it, you love me too or you never would have joined the damn Castle."

"I didn't do it for you. I did it for me, . . . for the connections for the power," she lied.

"Bullshit," Logan called her bluff. "You never cared about any of that. We both know with your force of will you'd make with or without those connections or even if they tried to block your path."

"There's only one reason you'd agree to join something like the Castle, especially after all the trouble you went through to expose the Titans in high school. You did it because you were afraid there wasn't another way for you to ensure that Gory and I didn't kill each other. You did it for me," Logan declared. His eyes bored into her, as if he could straight into her soul and he dared her to lie him when they both knew it was the truth: she loved him and would do anything for him.

Veronica was quiet. When she couldn't meet Logan's eye, he got confirmation that he was right. Grabbing her face in his hands he forced her head up so she had no choice but to look at him. He dropped his voice to a husky whisper, his mouth only a few inches from hers. Involuntarily she licked her lips and swallowed. "Look at me," he demanded. "Look me in the eyes right now and tell me you don't love me."

Her eyes glanced to the left and right, anywhere but directly into the intense dark brown pools drilling into her heart and soul. Veronica felt like she couldn't breathe and that hear heart was beating so fast it might burst through her chest wall.

"Just admit it already. You. Love. Me." Logan released his grip on her head. "Why is that so hard for you? You'll stand up to a bunch of outlaw bikers. You'll piss off the Fitzpatricks. You'll run headlong into danger but you won't admit you're in love." Logan shook his head and pounded his fists into the bed in frustration. "What is it about me that's so awful, Veronica?"

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