Chapter Forty-Two

Logan was trembling and having difficulty breathing by the time he and Veronica got outside. His lungs were on fire and he thought he was going to throw up. If it hadn't been for Veronica almost immediately wrapping him in her arms and leading him to a bench where they could sit and be mostly out of view, he probably would have vomited by now.

Once seated, he managed to prop his elbows on his knees and sink his fingers into the front of his hair. He closed his eyes. What the hell had he ever done to deserve this shit? Did he have a fucking neon sign on his shirt somewhere that advertised him to be the poster boy for emotional abuse? So what, he'd rejected her so she'd decided to get her revenge by pinning him for her murder?

None of this made sense. They'd actually gotten along. Had some things in common. Or at least he had thought they had. What the fuck was he supposed to believe now? And why? WHY was he always ending up a pawn in someone else's game when all he'd ever wanted was to end the games and find something real?

Allowing himself to feel the soothing pressure of the arms wrapped around him, he took comfort in knowing that the dead bitch had lost. He'd been trying to make do with a cheap substitute. Someone he'd known from the beginning could only ever be a placeholder. She never would have won him completely even if he'd wanted her to.

As his weary and tortured gaze finally turned to Veronica, he was overwhelmed by his need for her. How the hell had he survived without her for so long? She was rock solid when he was a mess. Always had been. And he had never in a million years questioned whether or not she needed him as well. He knew she did. She just hadn't wanted to need him. Until now.

His breathing ragged, he angled toward her and lifted his hands to cup her face. When his lips met hers, there was an urgency to the kiss. It communicated clearly his need for what they had together: never simple, never easy, but always there. Constant. Real. More real than anything else he'd ever had in his entire life. He loved her. He wasn't even sure he'd known what love was until Veronica.

Her hands came up to cover his, squeezing them tightly. She returned his kiss in such a way that it was as if she were willing herself to absorb some of his pain or was determined to heal him in some way herself. It was an exchange of weakness for strength, brokenness for being made whole.

Breaking the kiss shakily, he rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered as he pulled her into his lap and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her close.

"Any time," Veronica answered him reassuringly as she kissed his cheek tenderly.

He sighed and closed his eyes again, letting the tension and strain drain out of him as she kissed lightly across his face. Finally, he felt stable enough to voice some of what he'd been thinking. "How could she, V? Why would she? It doesn't even make sense."

"It won't," she answered softly, "And it never will. Logan, you didn't deserve this. Whatever it was that caused her to pull such a crazy scheme had nothing to do with you, even if she thought it did. It was about her. You. Did. Nothing. Wrong. You hear me? You didn't ask for this. You didn't bring it on yourself. You weren't responsible for what happened to her or what she did to you in any way, shape, or form."

Logan nodded but he could feel the familiar pull of disbelief. The victim's 'truth' that it was always their fault. He exhaled forcefully and sat back, burying his face in her hair. It wasn't his fault. He hadn't done anything wrong. Veronica had said so herself and she believed it so why shouldn't he?

"You sure it's not my fault?" he asked with a tremulous smile. It was a valiant attempt at humor but it fell flat.

"Yes," she said firmly, hugging him fiercely.

They sat in that solid embrace for several minutes just holding each other before either made an effort to speak again. This time it was Veronica's voice that broke the silence, her words filled with dark humor.

"If she were alive, I'd kick her ass," she said grimly.

Chuckling quietly, Logan admitted, "That's pretty much along the lines of what I was thinking as well. Although I'm sure there would have been a lot more blood and pain in my version," he added.

"Don't be so sure of that," Veronica said coldly.

"Ahhh, my sweet avenging angel," Logan teased affectionately as he twirled a piece of her hair around his finger.

"With the horns holding up the halo," she added with a proud grin.

Nodding once in agreement, Logan smiled at her with admiration and devotion before saying thoughtfully, "The halo may be what first attracted me to you but the horns are so much sexier. Not to mention they suit you about a million times more."

"I know," she laughed. She had fully accepted a long time ago that she could be a downright bitch when it came to someone messing with her family or her loved ones. It was one of the things he loved most about her. Her balls of steel.

"So what do we do now?" Logan asked, his lips pressed close against her temple as he waited to hear from her what their next steps should be.

"Well," she began, "First, we go finish listening to the story. Then we find her murderer. After we thank that person, we proceed to put him or her behind bars in your place. Sound like a plan?"

"Best damn plan I've heard in ages."