Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own
Chapter 20 – Facets of Lilly
A/N - All I can say for myself is that I hate one-dimensional villains.
Duncan - Day Six - Dallas, Texas - Beachwood Place Mall Parking Lot
Despite the obnoxious peals from the alarms on nearby emergency exit doors and police sirens some distance away, the gentle breeze made keeping the windows open a pleasure.
Duncan had always possessed a unique ability to tune out the world, and had spent the previous hour immersed in his new mystery novel. Every so often, he reached for his pineapple/coconut fruit smoothie, while reading the story of a teenaged barista who finds a human hand in the coffeehouse dumpster. Occasionally, he would glance at the screen of the disposable cell they had picked up this morning. No texts. No missed calls.
He smelled her before he heard her - something sultry, spicy and Oriental. Something Lilly.
"Whatcha doing, Donut?" she asked in her singsong voice.
"Lilly."
His sister sat in the passenger seat of Peggy's truck, right ankle curled beneath her, left leg swinging idly. Blood congealed on the left side of her skull, and he caught a hint of copper on the light breeze blowing through the open windows.
He folded a sheet of scratch paper, sharpening the crease with his thumbnail before slipping it between the pages to mark his place.
A brittle laugh escaped him. "It's official. I'm losing my mind."
Lilly's palms turned up, in a 'no-argument-here' gesture. "You just might be, Dunc, but that's unrelated to my presence. I've been trying to get through to you for a long long time."
"Get through how?"
"The usual…phone, email, text message. How do you think? I'm a ghost. Those pills have kept you from seeing me."
He passed a hand over his eyes. "The Doc warned me about hallucinations."
"Hallucinations? Do I look like a hallucination to you?"
"Lilly, I can see part of your brain matter, so yeah. Pretty much."
"Well that's not very nice. I think I look...peppy!" Lilly flipped down the visor mirror and checked her appearance, reapplying a sparkly pink lip-gloss she pulled from her shorts pocket. The sound of police sirens drew closer.
"So...you're here…why?" Duncan prodded. "Not that I'm not happy to see you."
"Oh...right...the beyond the grave wisdom." Lilly said, closing the visor and turning to her brother. "You know I always loved you, right?"
I know you tolerated me for Logan and Veronica. "Um...sure…"
"I'm worried about you, Duncan."
"Because of the blackout?"
"No, I mean because of the giant stick up your ass."
"Better than what you've had up yours."
Lilly's eyes sparkled with good humor as she tilted her head with a grin. "Jealous?"
"You know..." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "The meds are looking more appealing by the minute."
"Funny," Lilly said. "I've noticed your attempts at humor lately. Better late than never." Another emergency door alarm joined the cacophony of noise pouring in through the open windows. "So, what are the odds that's related to Logan and Veronica?"
"Who else?" Duncan shrugged. "The first one scared the hell out of me, but every minute another one goes off. Somehow, I think they've talked their 'fans' into helping them."
"You're jealous," Lilly said with a growing smile.
"That they have more fans than me? What do I care? I've never liked attention much."
"You're jealous because they're playing Badass Action Couple, and you're stuck out here playing chauffeur."
"Maybe..." Duncan answered, aware that he may be pouting a bit. "I guess. I just hate them thinking I'm useless in a crises."
"In their defense, you did go all-systems-down during the last crises, but I think what you really hate is how close they've become."
"It's fine." Duncan sighed and stared out the window. "Situations like this tend to bring people closer."
"You know we were only borrowing them, Duncan," Lilly said, with an unaccustomed gentleness.
He turned back to her, eyes wide. "Logan lived for you, Lilly."
"Eh…He liked to think so."
"But you didn't believe him?"
"He said he loved me a million times, but his eyes...they always followed her." She let out a weary sigh, which struck Duncan as odd. What reason would a ghost (or hallucination) have to be weary? "You know, I purposely got between them in the beginning. I thought he would break her heart. Maybe this...adventure...is the universe's way of righting what went wrong."
Duncan's head dropped back onto the headrest, and he let out a frustrated laugh. "What are you trying to say, Lilly? Logan and Veronica are some kind of star-crossed lovers the evil Kane siblings kept apart for nefarious purposes?"
Lilly shrugged. "I may have worded it a bit less eloquently, but yeah, sure."
"Logan chose not to pursue anything with Veronica. I gave him two freaking years to change his mind before I asked her out."
"Fucking."
"Huh?"
"Two fucking years. It's okay to swear, Duncan. Dad and Celeste aren't going to jump out of the bushes to wash your mouth out with soap."
"Whatever" he laughed. "Nothing's going on between them. They were always physically close, even back when they were dating us. Remember all of the roughhousing? And those epic tickle battles?"
Lilly face palmed. "Duncan, he was in love with her and that was the only way he could get close to her. Even I knew that. Are you really that thickheaded?"
"About a month before you died, I asked Logan point-blank if he still had feelings for Veronica and he denied it."
"And you expected him to say what? 'Duncan, I want to steal your girlfriend'?" Lilly patted him on the cheek. "Aren't you cute?"
"When I woke up in that motel they swore point-blank nothing was going on between them - twice. Then Logan went on a date with another girl last night. A very hot girl."
Lilly shook her head. "You poor, naïve child."
"What do you want me to do? Schedule a daily checkpoint meeting in my day planner?" He made checkmarks on an invisible clipboard. "'Since yesterday's meeting, have you experienced any feelings towards each other that might be defined as stronger than fond? Have there been any lingering glances? Have you checked out her butt for more than the requisite three second appreciation glance?"
Lilly smirked, and joined in. "'any tents popping up in your shorts?', 'any damp panties?', 'what's really going on under those covers?'"
Duncan cringed at her crudeness. "C'mon, Lil. If I were to push the issue, I'd come across like I'm obsessed. I have to trust that Logan is my best friend, and will tell me if anything changes."
"And you'll be okay with if it does?"
"Hell no!" Duncan said with a painful laugh, "But it would be worse if they tried to hide it from me."
The sirens drew near and three police cars flew past, each parking in the fire zone near the closest entrance.
"Oh hell!" Duncan banged his hand on the steering wheel. He glanced at the burner cell again, but there was still nothing from Logan or Veronica. His pulse pounded in his throat and he found himself gasping for air.
"No panicking, Duncan," Lilly said. "Deep breath in... Now let it out." She repeated her instructions several times.
His world stopped spinning and his pulse began to settle.
"Just ride it out and wait, Duncan. We can't assume Logan and Veronica were arrested until we see them being led to one of those cop cars."
Duncan reached for his smoothie, taking a long drink, before smiling at his sister. "Thanks, Lil. For talking me down."
"That's what I'm here for," she said with a sweeping gesture. "Well...that, and to help you change your life."
"Who says I want to change my life?"
Lilly only raised a single eyebrow, coaxing a rueful smile from him.
"I have to hand it to you, I've already seen some positive changes in you. A few days out of the 'rents' clutches have made a difference. You have much further to go, of course."
"Like how?"
"Like start fucking living? Try experiencing life. Swear like a sailor. Put down the spinach juice and pick up a juicy cheeseburger. Go out. Have fun. Dance on some tables. Bang a few chicks - and not in the perfunctory Shelly Pomroy kind of way."
"Wait. How do you know about Shelly? Lilly, were you watching?"
"Only for a few seconds, before I realized you had no clue what you were doing. You really need some practice Duncan. You didn't even take care of her needs." She gripped his shoulder tightly. "Cardinal rule - the girl gets off first. Learn it. Memorize it. Live it."
"Oh. My. God." Duncan moaned, covering his face with his hands. "My head is about to explode."
"Ask Logan. I'm sure he would be happy to provide you with some sex tips."
"Please leave."
"See...the difference between us? I lived to experience pleasure. You lived for duty and following orders. I can acknowledge now that I could have used a little duty and obedience in my life. But Duncan, when's the last time you experienced any real pleasure, and don't say Shelly Pomroy."
"Um…I don't know?"
"When's the last time you tasted something so delicious it made you want to cry? When's the last time something took your breath away? When's the last time you were so turned on you thought you would explode?"
"Ewwww...and...never."
"Not even with Veronica?"
"I respected her."
"Oh. My. God. Add that to the list of reasons you were all wrong for each other. You and Veronica were too much alike. You were both the even-tempered 'voices-of-reason' and all that annoying crap. You never even fought. You had absolutely no spark. I think you would have bored each other to death eventually. Who wants to live that way?"
"What's wrong with getting along?"
"Duncan, you need somebody who challenges you." She said, her voice rising fervently. She grasped him by both shoulders and tried to shake some sense into him. "Somebody you feel a mad passion for, not just a pleasant respect. Look at the way Logan's treated Veronica the past year."
"Like he hated her guts?"
"Yes. Intensely. Passionately. What do you think that translates to?"
"Ugh. Just. Stop."
"I am. Really. Just...I love you, and I want to see you aim higher than nice, pleasant, and peachy. I want you to try out exciting, thrilling, invigorating, how about a good dose of spine-tingling?"
"Maybe I'm just not a passionate kind of person."
"Bullshit! You share blood with me. You just haven't found your passion yet."
Duncan shrugged. Dead or alive, there was no arguing with his sister.
"Do me a favor, Duncan."
"What?" He asked, lifting his chin and looking up from lowered lids.
"Live like me a little bit. Every day, do at least one thing to make you feel more alive."
"I don't even know what you mean by that."
"You have five senses, right? Eat something spectacular, or listen to a song that makes you want to break things. Go into a coffee house and just inhale all of those aromas. Sight? I don't know - look at some art? Look at a hot girl? A hot boy, maybe?" she winked. "What's the fifth sense? Touch? I can give you some advice on touch."
"Please don't."
"At least touch yourself. When's the last time you did that?"
"Stop!"
"Not here in the car, silly. That's only fun with a willing audience. But...you know…find yourself a little alone time. A box of Kleenex…"
Duncan covered his ears and squeezed his eyes closed. When he opened them back up, the car was empty.
He missed her immediately.
Veronica - Day Six - Dallas, Texas - Beachwood Place Mall
Glancing around at both levels, there was no sign of fangirls or the two security guards from the fountain.
Straight ahead at the end of the long corridor was J.C. Penny. Halfway between here and there, a corridor to the left led to Sears and their mop closet.
Once more, they broke into a run, taking the left hand turn wide.
They screeched to a halt as they came face-to-face with a fourth security guard.
Veronica's eyes skittered in every direction, her always-calculating brain sizing up their surroundings. One security guard, two fugitives, zero fangirls to come to their rescue. The corridor was also empty of shoppers - whether because they had been drawn to the noise near the food court or the alarms had scared them away, she couldn't say. She searched the ceiling. No cameras pointed at their location.
Logan mumbled something and thrust her behind him. He was a protective by nature, but while she appreciated the sentiment, she would never allow him to go down without her. She moved back to his side.
Time seemed to slow allowing her to catalogue her senses. Door alarms clattered from every direction, and the aroma of caramel from the nearby popcorn stand was making her crazy hungry. She regretted not eating a full lunch while they'd still been disguised. And why was she thinking of food at a time like this?
The security guard was young, mid-twenties, rounded, and of medium height. His sandy hair was prematurely thinning on top and his thick-lensed glasses on his nose made him resemble an owl.
Logan's eyes narrowed into slits.
The guard's eyes narrowed in return.
Logan's fingers twitched at his side.
Always one to have inappropriate thoughts at the worst of times, Veronica had to stifle a laugh as her imagination supplied blowing tumbleweeds and the theme song to 'The Good, The Bad and The Ugly'.
In slow motion, The Owl lifted the radio to his mouth.
He depressed the trigger.
"All clear on the South quad. No sign of them here."
Logan jerked in surprise next to her, but Veronica took another second to compute what had just happened.
He's letting us go?
Logan's expression was one of immense relief.
Veronica approached the mall cop. "Thank you," she said, her eyes bright with gratitude. "Thank you so much!" On impulse, she braced his face between her palms and gave him a big smacking kiss on the lips. "I'll never forget this!"
The Owl blinked once. Twice. Three times.
"Thanks dude," Logan said, moving to Veronica's side. "Gotta fly."
"Wait!" the guard said.
Right as Logan was reaching for her to drag her away, the guard raised a hand to halt them. "Not me. Him." He pointed to Logan.
"What about him?' Veronica asked.
"Kiss him."
"Excuse me?"
"I'm letting you go. Help me out here. My obnoxious little sister is a fan, but she likes the other guy. Duncan Kane? He seems like kind of a pussy to me, so when she bet twenty dollars that you and Duncan were already hooked up, I took that bet. Let me get a picture of you kissing. I mean...every sighting so far has been of you two—"
"Sir...We're kind of in a hurry here," Veronica said in a clipped tone. 'Any second now, about thirty girls are going to come around that corner and swarm you." Veronica said.
The Owl opened his mouth to protest.
"I have not, nor will I ever hook back up with Duncan Kane. Is that good?"
"Fine!" the guard said, with a pout. "Get out of here."
They broke into a run, but Logan called back over his shoulder "She made out with me yesterday, if that helps."
"God, you're an ass."
Veronica was gasping for breath by the time they made it to their hallway. She checked over her shoulder before they made the left turn. Only two fangirls were still following, but they could make it to their mop closet before those girls caught up.
At the end of the hall, Veronica slammed open the emergency exit door, recoiling at the alarm, while Logan pulled open the door to the mop closet tugging her in behind him. As she stepped into the room, she ripped off the duct tape she'd used to disable the locking mechanism. "We have to leave the lights off for a while," she said, checking the handle to confirm that the lock had engaged.
Logan reached for her hand in the dark, and they fumbled their way over to a small nook on the other side of the shelving unit. The space wasn't big enough for two, so he pulled her tightly against him, her back to his chest. His left arm hooked in front of her sternum, grasping her right shoulder. His right arm circled her waist. Even if someone were to open the door and turn on the light, they wouldn't be seen unless the person walked into the room.
It took Veronica a minute to catch her breath. "There's a reason I never joined the track team. Can't believe I'm so out of shape."
"Your shape looks pretty great to me," Logan said, and Veronica groaned at the innuendo.
She dug in her pocket pulling out the original burner cell, firing off a text to Duncan telling him they hadn't been captured.
The phone vibrated seconds later with Duncan's response, informing them about the three cop cars and calling them asses for taking so long to check in. She texted back once more, instructing Duncan to text them when the cops left, and then stuffed the phone back in her pocket.
"I can't believe you kissed that guard," Logan said into her ear so that she could hear him over the alarm.
"Oh, come on. It was out of gratitude."
"I know. But you wouldn't kiss me."
"What? Logan, we were in a hurry."
"It would have taken what – two seconds? – to kiss me and let him get his picture? You'd rather kiss a stranger than kiss me?"
"Aww…did I offend your delicate sensibilities?"
"Yes," he pouted. "You need to fix this."
"Dare I ask how?"
"Kiss me now."
"Not a chance in hell," Veronica laughed.
"Didn't think so. I understand. You're scared."
"Reverse psychology?" She changed to her breathy, ditzy voice. "Oh Logan! Let's make out so I can prove I'm not afraid!"
"Really?"
"No."
"I meant what I said yesterday, you know?" Logan said.
"About being a Fashion Don't?"
"No, that you would be the one to initiate our next kiss."
"So...that was crazy back there," Veronica said, trying to change the subject. "The food court. The fountain."
"We can discuss that when we're finished with our current conversation," Logan said.
"We are finished."
"I'm not," he said. "The kiss needs to be all you. No cops. No security guards. Just you and me. With tongue…and it has to last at least ten seconds."
"Never gonna happen, Logan," Veronica said, realizing that eye rolls were completely wasted in the dark. "Why do you need to keep score like that anyway?"
"Just letting you know, next time you're looking up at me all wide-eyed and turned-on, and you're waiting for me to move in, it's not because I don't want to. It's all on you."
"And they call me a control freak," Veronica muttered.
"It's not about control. It's about you making a statement that you want to kiss me, and not just being swept up in a moment."
How does one not get swept up in a force of nature like Logan?
For several minutes, they said nothing. Veronica listened to the sound of Logan's breathing until the peals from the door alarm gradually receded from her consciousness. She concentrated on the rise and fall of Logan's chest against her back. She fixated on the warmth everywhere his body touched hers. She synchronized her inhales to his. Her exhales. Her heartbeat even. She imagined each breath originating at the base of his spine and rolling from him into her and back again like waves to a shore, and she experienced a strange sort of communion and oneness she'd never felt with another person before. She wanted to synch up with Logan in other ways. She wanted to feel his skin. She wanted him ins—
For the first time, she reconsidered her fundamental beliefs about sex. Maybe it didn't have to be the culmination of raging, out-of-control, hormones. It didn't have to be something that 'happened to you' at a party. It didn't have to be the trump card for a girl to 'hold on to a boy'.
Maybe sex could be a way for two people to merge and synch, and connect to each other at the deepest level.
"Maybe sex is like this…" she mused. She didn't consciously choose to say the words aloud. She was genuinely curious as to his opinion, but at the same time, hadn't wanted to insinuate something was going on beyond Veronica Mars and Logan Echolls hiding in the dark.
Logan snorted. Actually snorted. "Fully dressed, standing, behind a shelving unit in a mop closet? Why not? But you at least need to bend over...and...maybe stand on a few phone books. Do they still make those things?"
"Forget I even asked," Veronica said, struggling to pull away. Logan held tight, refusing to let her go.
"Hey...I'm sorry," he whispered, lowering his face to her shoulder contritely. "I'm an ass. I knew exactly what you meant. I need to learn to resist going for the joke."
"Whatever." Her voice was dismissive, but she understood. It was a quality they shared. Snark first, think later.
"To answer your question, no. Sex isn't like this." He moved a hand to her belly, allowing it to rise and fall with their combined breath.
"Oh…" Veronica said, surprised at how disappointed his answer made her.
"But I think maybe making love might be. I wouldn't know."
"Oh come on," Veronica whispered. "Same thing. Making love? Somebody's been spending too much time watching the Lifetime Network."
"Hey, I happen to like Suddenly Susan," Logan said. "And you're wrong. Trust me, do you think I would be caught dead using that term if I really thought they were the same thing?"
"Well, it isn't very manly," Veronica agreed.
"I'll show you manly," Logan said, but luckily(?), didn't act on his threat. "I guess it depends on your end goal. Are you there for the orgasms? Or are you doing it to get closer to somebody? To connect deeply with them." His hand shifted on her stomach fractionally, enough to drive home their own connection.
"Which is...maybe...what I was referring to." See? That didn't hurt to admit, Veronica.
"I know."
"But how can you say you've never done it. I know you loved Lilly."
Logan sighed. "Lilly had no patience. She wanted everything quick and dirty. She didn't want love or togetherness, or whatever you want to call it."
"And you did?"
He let the question linger for a few beats before exhaling. "Yeah. I did."
"I'm beginning to think Lilly was certifiable," Veronica said. "Why would anybody turn down the chance to have that kind of connection?"
"It made her feel trapped." Logan shrugged behind her. "What's your excuse?"
Well, you walked right into that one.
Veronica hesitated, weighing her words carefully, finally going with the truth. "Abandonment issues. And Lilly. How about you?"
"Me? I'm right here, Veronica. Not running."
They stood in silence for several minutes - well as silent as it gets in a room next to a squealing emergency door - before Logan spoke again.
"Nothing happened with Carolann. I mean, I was going to kiss her out of obligation, but she didn't want me to."
"Why're you telling me? It's none of my business."
"Why do you think?"
"You can do whatever you want with whomever you choose. I have no say over you."
Logan's arms released her, and he pulled away. "Just...whatever." She sensed him shutting down again.
"What's your issue, Logan?" Her back felt cold from the absence of his warmth.
He didn't answer.
Veronica sighed, turning around to face him, despite it being too dark to make anything out. "I already knew you didn't hook up with her."
"How'd you know that Smarty?"
"All eight of your family-sized boxes of condoms were still sealed."
"You checked up on me?" Logan let out a choked laugh. "Please don't ever say family-sized and condoms in the same sentence again."
"Deal. It is a bit of an oxymoron."
"Besides," he moved closer, fingers of one hand brushing her waist. "I promised I'd share those with you."
"That's quite okay, you can have them all."
"I meant I'd share each one."
"Oh." Thankfully, he couldn't see her cheeks burning in the dark. "Planning a water balloon fight?"
Logan's chuckle had a sexy edge to it. "You know...I could seduce you." He moved even closer.
"Right... Casanova. How could any woman ever resist your slick moves?"
"I'm talking about you being...what's the word...seducible?"
"So we're back to calling me a slut?"
"Don't go there. You know that's not what I meant." Logan snapped.
"Well then why don't you say exactly what you mean?"
"Fine. I've learned a few things about you in the past day. You're very responsive to me. You seem to crave being touched. You really like to kiss, and you do it really really well. And it doesn't take much for you to lose control and get swept away. You, my dear, were completely wasted on a guy like Duncan."
"I don't want to talk about this." Veronica tried to take a step back, but the shelf was in her way. Freaking Logan Echolls!
Logan growled in annoyance. "I can't discuss the hypothetical of whether I can seduce you, without producing the supporting evidence. We kissed and you loved it. Why are you trying to pretend you didn't?"
Veronica ignored his question. She needed to find some way to change the subject.
"Right...abandonment issues…" Logan said quietly when she didn't answer. "We'll have to work on that."
His voice took on a hypnotic quality, while his right thumb stroked the curve of her waist. "The point I'm trying to make here is that I could kiss you right here…" His fingertips caressed that spot on her neck. "And here…" He touched the corner of her mouth, triggering a hammering in her heart. "And I could make you lose yourself. I could keep you turned on long enough to get you out of your clothes. I could break into one of those family sized boxes of condoms, and I could close the deal."
Veronica felt a full body shiver.
"But...I'm not going to do any of that."
"You're not?" Veronica said, trying to keep her voice detached. "Not that I think you could."
"No. I mean, the sex would probably be fantastic, but where would that leave us in the morning? You would hate me for making you lose control. I'd hate myself for screwing everything up. Duncan would probably have a nervous breakdown worrying and trying to keep the peace."
"So...are you agreeing to just leave things be?"
"Not at all." Logan said, sliding his fingers down both of her arms until he found her hands. "I'm going to convince you to seduce me." She heard the smile in his voice.
"WOW!" she laughed. "So we're jumping from initiating kisses to full-out seduction now? Over-confident, much?"
"Not at the same time. You can start with kisses." He pulled her hands up to wrap around his neck, and lowered his forehead to hers. "How does now work for you?"
"Now?" Veronica asked, her voice deceptively steady, despite the fact she could almost taste his mouth, and her belly was doing flip-flops. "Now is not good for me. You know, blaring alarms. Security guards. Fangirls. The fact that it's you."
"Tomorrow?"
"Not looking good either. You'll still be you."
"I can be patient. You'll cave eventually."
"You think?"
"I do. I can be charming when I try."
"I know."
"And I have those...what did you call 'em?...magic fingers?" He tickled her waist lightly.
"I know." Her lips were almost aching to close the distance.
Have. To. Resist.
"And then there's the fact that I'm just plain sexy."
"I kn—"
Suddenly, the emergency door's alarm stopped pealing, and Logan yanked her against him and scrunched them as tightly as possible into the nook.
Male voices - sounded like three to four of them - lingered outside of the door. Chatting, laughing among themselves, and taking way too long. Somebody jiggled the handle of the mop closet, finding it locked.
Another several minutes passed before Duncan texted that the cops had driven away. Veronica still counted thirty Mississippi's before making her way to the door, and peeking out into the hallway.
"All clear," she said, flipping on the light switch. "I doubt they'll come back with the keys, but we need to hurry, just in case."
She dragged their large shopping bags from their hiding place behind Toilet Paper Mountain. Putting on a mask of indifference, she peeled off her tee shirt and skirt. She should have told him to turn his back. She wasn't sure why she hadn't.
This, Veronica, is called playing with fire, and it's becoming a habit.
"I can feel your eyes on me," she said, digging through one of the bags for her new outfit. And thank God, I'm wearing my pretty orchid-colored bra and panty set!
"Yeah? Remember that time you came into the bathroom and ogled me in a towel? "
Veronica glanced over at him to argue, but he had already removed his two shirts, and was dropping his jeans. Two could play at that game. She had often appreciated his butt, and his back, and his chest, and his arms, but she had to admit, his legs weren't too shabby either.
"Veronica?" he said in a strangled voice. "Either get dressed or lose the boots."
"The boots? Why?"
"Why do you think? Panties and boots? Pretty much at the top of my rotation." He turned his back to her with a tragic sigh. "Forget it, I'll turn." Point - Veronica.
Rotation?
Ohhhh…
"My clothes?" he asked, holding out his hand. Veronica dug through the second bag and pulled out his new black suit and white button-up placing them in his outstretched hand. "I can't believe I'm about to wear JC Penney clothes. I feel so dirty."
"It'll only be for five minutes, Princess," Veronica said, unzipping and tugging her boots off. She pulled on her new black dress pants.
Surprise, surprise. Too long. Even shopping in the petite section was no guarantee the pants would fit.
Logan turned back to her. Of course, his pants fit perfectly. Men were so lucky with clothing. His white shirt was buttoned and tucked, but had little crease lines all over. Luckily, those would be covered with his jacket.
Veronica slipped into her new delicate ecru colored blouse, fastening the buttons from the bottom to the top. She caught Logan smirking. "What?"
"Nothing. Just...love the purple bra."
Veronica glanced down and realized her blouse was somewhat transparent.
"Damn!" she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
"And now you decide to be modest?" Logan asked, with a raised brow. He had a point. "It'll only be five minutes, Princess."
Veronica shot him a glare, and then slid her right boot back on. Once it was zipped, she tried to lower her pant leg over the boot, but it was too skinny. Damn. She tugged at it, but couldn't get it to budge.
"I thought you bought boot cut."
"So did I. I must have grabbed the wrong ones when I switched them for a smaller size."
"Come here," Logan said, grabbing her by the waist and lifting her to sit on the stainless steel counter near the sink. He tugged and wiggled her pants leg, but had no more luck than Veronica. "Can you tuck the pant legs into the boots?" he asked.
"I can, but that would defeat the purpose of the disguise. Don't you know? These boots are iconic." She rolled her eyes indicating what she thought about being a fashion icon.
"Should I go buy you a pair of shoes?"
"Unnecessary risk," Veronica said.
Logan eyed the pant leg for another moment, and then took a step back. "Pants off," he commanded.
"Excuse me?"
"We'll have to do it the other way. Boots on first." He tugged the boot off her foot.
Veronica sighed and hopped down from the counter, unzipping and sliding out of her pants. Logan handed her each of her boots in turn, and she zipped them onto her feet.
Logan was staring at her again in a way that made her entire body flood with warmth. Her throat felt uncomfortably dry and she unconsciously licked her lips.
"Fuck, Veronica," He groaned. "Promise me you'll wear those boots when you finally get around to seducing me."
"Never. Gonna. Happen."
"…Right." Logan boosted her back up onto the cold steel counter.
"Damn, Logan! That's cold!"
"Fine whiny, get down." He reached for his suit jacket, and lay it on the counter before helping her back up.
"Lift."
Veronica lifted her left leg straight out.
"I really want to kiss your knees," Logan said, conversationally. He scrunched one of the pant legs all the way up so that it was a tight bundle. He then reached through the pant leg from the bottom, grabbing Veronica's foot and trying to pull it through the hole.
"My knobby knees bring all the boys to the yard," she snickered.
The pant leg stuck, and Logan had to shimmy it bit by bit over the thick boot heel. "I wanted to kiss your knees when I was twelve. Probably always will," he said, keeping his eyes on her foot as he spoke.
Veronica's heart skipped a beat. She stared up at the ceiling, afraid he might see some kind of emotion in her eyes.
Logan worked the last of the fabric over her left heel, and began scrunching up the other pant leg. "Lift."
She lifted her right foot, and Logan performed the same complicated process of shimmying her pant leg over her boot heel. Once the boot was through, he helped her down.
Veronica pulled up her pants, but they only came to mid-thigh.
Damn!
She wiggled and yanked on the pants, but most of the fabric was still ruched up too tightly around her boots. She hopped a few times.
At the sound of Logan's choked laughter, she blew out a gust of air and glanced up at him glaring. "Amused?"
"Sorry," he chuckled, "I'll help." He moved behind her and grabbed her waistband on each side. "Grab onto my neck," he said.
Veronica reached up behind her, grasping his neck, and he lifted her by both sides of her waistband, bouncing her until there was some give and the pants made it up to her hips.
"I've never even worked this hard to get a girl out of her pants."
"That's not saying much about the girls you've been with. I knew you couldn't resist the easy joke."
"I wouldn't be me if I did." He gave her another good bounce, and the pants came mostly to her waist.
"That'll do," Veronica said, and zipped up her pants once Logan set her down. She squatted down to make sure she could bend her knees.
"Bet you thought that was funny." She glowered at him.
"Pretty much. Think of it as a lesson learned for the next time we play disguise."
They finished getting ready. Logan turned his back to her as he added a new striped necktie, his suit jacket, and his glasses. Veronica slipped back into her curly brown wig and her glasses.
When Logan turned back around, Veronica almost choked. "No! Absolutely not! I won't be seen with you."
"What's wrong, Veronica? If I can be seen with you with that dead poodle on your head - you can be seen with me in the porn 'stache. It's only fair."
"Fine. But if anybody starts singing bow-chicka-wow-wow, I'm pretending I don't know you."
"So basically, it'll be just like the last year."
"Cover your mustache with your hand," she said.
Logan looked at her funny, but followed her instruction. She looked him over. The suit obviously wasn't of the finest quality, but it fit him well.
"You look good in a suit," she said.
"I look good in everything. You look good in your underwear. And your b—"
"Logan..." she warned.
"Sorry."
She double-checked that they had all of their possessions and purchases, while Logan texted Duncan to pick them up outside of Sears.
Veronica noticed people staring as they casually walked though Sears and out to the parking lot, but they weren't seeing Veronica Mars and Logan Echolls. Only a guy with a really bad mustache.
Liam Fitzpatrick - Day Six - Interstate 10 - Western Florida
Liam Fitzpatrick had been on the road for nearly twelve hours - since receiving the call from Don Lamb at 6:30 AM. He made two stops for fast food, and one to take a piss at a truck stop, but otherwise, he'd been making good time. He was already less than an hour outside of Tallahassee.
Sheriff Shithead told him on the phone to head back to Neptune - there would be no point in heading to Orlando with the two kids already in police custody - but Lamb took orders from him, not the other way around. He needed to find Duncan Kane (and the backpack) before the cops did. Sure, he could get to him in jail, but that would deny him the personal touch he was so looking forward to. He worried that Kane might turn himself in out of a sense of loyalty to the other two.
Liam never had much use for attachments. Most people were no better than cockroaches, and Neptune's citizens were worse than most. As a hotbed of the New Rich, everybody was a slave to something: pussy, image, money, or drugs. Or all four, in a few cases.
Liam was immune to most of those things. He knew there was only one thing that mattered in this world. Power. And he was the second most powerful man in Neptune. For now. Jake Kane wouldn't survive the death of a second child.
The death of his own brother Ciaran had been a crushing blow, but oddly liberating as well. Ciaran had been his last living attachment. His last tie to humanity. Now he had nothing left to lose.
As the middle child of five boys, Liam had been a loner as a child. The oldest, Cormac, was the darling of their mother. Patrick, the pious, was his father's favorite. The twins, Ciaran and Padraig had each other. Liam had nobody, and liked it that way.
When he was eleven, he found his dad's handgun on a closet shelf. As young boys were apt to do, he took it outside, pointing it at birds, squirrels, and neighborhood kids. He hadn't known what the safety was when he'd clicked it off and thumbed the trigger, but the end result was a bullet hole in his kid brother Ciaran's knee. He hadn't even known the gun was loaded.
Once the ambulance pulled away, anticipating the beating of a lifetime, Liam searched out his mother's vodka stash. He'd learned in the past that a little self-numbing made his father's brutal whippings a bit more...endurable. Still, he'd almost wet himself at the sound of the front door slamming. As heavy boot steps climbed the stairs, he'd hidden in his closet, knowing he was only postponing the inevitable. He was taken by surprise when his father began screaming.
"Cormac! Get out here you little fucker!"
Liam heard the door of Cormac and Patrick's bedroom fling against the wall. He heard muffled thumps, shouts and screams, and the thwap of leather against skin.
"Don't lie to me boy, or it'll go twice as badly for you."
For the second time that day, a Fitzpatrick boy was taken to the hospital, but Liam hadn't felt even the slightest twinge of guilt. Cormac had always been a bit protective of the twins, but had been tormenting Liam his entire life.
He had never quite understood why Ciaran had done it, but by fingering Cormac in the shooting, he had drawn a line in the sand and had earned Liam's eternal loyalty. It was only the first of many times that Ciaran would come through for him.
Liam, on the other hand, had been a complete failure at coming through for his brother, beginning with the permanent limp. When he'd ruined Kenneth Callum for not paying his blackmail, it was Ciaran who'd taken a bullet from the irate man. When Ciaran was sentenced to two years, it had been for Liam's robbery.
Most people believed Liam was a meth head. He let them think so, but in fact, he never touched the stuff, he was just psychotic. Any good businessman knew you didn't get high on your own supply. But it served his purposes to be underestimated. He had seen countless lives destroyed by meth, so when he realized his brother had started using, he should have stopped him. Forcefully, if necessary. But once again, he'd let Ciaran down.
And then there was the time he'd broken two of his brother's ribs.
Liam had never been in love. He'd never even had a girlfriend. Sure, women had their place - in the kitchen or on their knees - but never in his heart. Since he'd first been put to work at the Stix at age fourteen, he'd been fucking the same handful of bar sluts. Sloppy hookups in the back room with sloppier drunks. They'd fuck any of the Fitzpatrick boys for a few drinks, a little crack, or a little meth. There was no affection involved. No foreplay. They hardly even participated, just closed their eyes and took a nailing.
Now and then, a neighborhood girl got away. Went to college and never came back. But unlike their Latino neighbors to the South with their strong sense of family, in the poverty-stricken world of East Neptune, there were two types of women - at least in Liam's estimation. The good girls went to church, married young, popped out a handful of babies, and worked their fingers to the bone keeping homes for loutish brutes who came home to slap them around. The bad girls lined the bar stools of the River Stix on their pathetic excuse for Ladies Night hoping that somebody - anybody - would give them the time of day.
Strangely, both types typically wound up looking the same in the end. Like his mother, they all had that same dead-on-the-inside look. Tired. World-weary. Pathetic. Ugly. Lives over before they'd even begun. Even Cormac's girlfriend, Kendall/Lacey/Priscilla - whatever the hell her real name was - didn't do it for him. As much as she displayed her goods, as much as she pretended to be walking sex, she was just as dead inside as the rest of them.
That was his entire world-view of women: victims, martyrs, slaves to their husbands.
There had been one. Once. He could have grown to love her - he'd been close. There had been nothing dead-inside about that girl.
Flashback - Liam - June, 2003 - September, 2003
The first time she comes into the Stix, she's with her married lover who's there to score some blow.
"I told you to wait in the car," he says through gritted teeth. "This is no place for you."
"Bite me," she answers, as her inquisitive eyes take in the establishment. She doesn't notice the anger on her lover's face. Liam thinks she wouldn't much care if she had. He can tell she likes what she sees. Sin and vice are probably aphrodisiacs to this girl.
She looks right through him at first. He's only the scumbag drug dealer providing the party favors. He doesn't take offense. She wouldn't be the first rich girl to slum it around here.
She's a hot little thing with curves to die for, but it's her eyes that captivate him. They're full of mischief and amusement. Blazingly. Alive.
"Let's play pool," she says.
"We're leaving."
"I'll play with you," Liam says. He has no idea why.
She looks at him now. Takes him in like a stud horse, head to toe, lingering at the bulge in his pants. She doesn't even pretend to be coy. One side of her lip curls up in a knowing smirk.
Her lover finishes his transaction and drags her out of there, but Liam knows she'll be back.
"I've seen her around at school," Ciaran says materializing at his side. "She's bad news, man."
"Tell me everything you know."
It takes longer than he expected. Three weeks before he looks up from the cash register to find her sitting on a bar stool.
"Where's the douchebag?" he asks.
"In LA with his wife."
"Where's your boyfriend?"
"Out of town with his boys."
"Why are you here?"
"You owe me a game of pool."
She's not much of a drinker, but she likes to climb up on the bar. Any other girl would be knocked on her ass for even attempting that. She almost was the first time he'd caught her up there.
But he thinks she might be a goddess whose primary form of nourishment is male attention. As each pair of eyes is added to her collection, she seems to glow a bit brighter. Adoration is her drug. She sways her hips to a Blues number on the jukebox, running her hands up her sides, and every man in the place adjusts their pants.
He sits back and enjoys the show. Every goddess needs worshippers.
He's never been a jealous man - never cared enough about anybody - but the way she locks eyes with him while rubbing against his cousin makes him want to cause permanent damage. Instead, he sends Danny into PCH territory on a mission sure to get his ass kicked. The simpleton doesn't even question the order.
"What is your game?" he asks her once. "Your daddy could buy you ten pool tables. You're not here for the drugs. You're not here for the alcohol. You barely drink."
"Alcohol dulls orgasms."
"Who's the lucky guy tonight?"
"I have a few options."
She's dancing on the bar one night when Kendall/Lacey/Priscilla comes in with a message from his brother.
They size each other up like two territorial cats, while the gathered patrons watch eagerly. They haven't seen a good cat fight in ages.
But something passes silently between them and the antagonism changes to something...different. She glides across the bar, until she's standing over Kendall, and then holds out her hand.
Kendall stares at the hand, considering, and then finally, allows herself to be hoisted onto a stool and then onto the bar.
She grabs Kendall by the hair and shoves her tongue in her mouth, kissing her roughly.
Drunken spectators hoot. This is much better than a bitch fight.
When they break apart, Kendall smirks. "Nice, but not as good as your boyfriend."
"He is pretty good, huh?" She smiles then, proudly. "Much better than your husband."
They dance together on the bar putting on a show - swaying, hands gliding over hips and arms and backs, while every patron in the bar stares with rapt fascination. They leave together.
Two more Fitzpatrick babies are conceived that night.
Another night, crouching to grab a beer, he's surprised when he stands up to find her sitting sideways on the bar, bare legs stretched out before her. She wears a tiny black bandaid dress and no bra.
"Get off my bar," he grunts, knowing she won't listen.
"Why should I? Nobody's here anyway," she says, "...except for Joannie the Lush." She points to the woman at the end of the bar, whom Liam had been considering fucking after closing. It wouldn't be the first time.
He fixes her drink of choice. "It's 2:00 AM. Do your parents know where you are?"
"Nope," she says.
"Why are you fucking that coke head?"
"I collect experiences. Stories. He's one of them."
"Is that why you're here? Collecting your 'slumming it' badge?
"Why else?" Her fingers skim her chest.
He crosses his arms over his chest and tries to stare her down, but he doesn't scare her any more than her douchebag lover does. He should - they both should - but she doesn't have much sense.
Proof in point, she stretches the neckline of her dress, and pops out her tit. Right there on the fucking bar.
He stares mesmerized as she runs her hand over her breast. She flashes him an impertinent grin.
He reaches out a hand, but she slaps it away. So he stares as she wiggles her dress up over her hips. She peels off her black lace panties.
He feels a desperation to touch her unlike anything he's ever experienced before. His sum experience with sex is to find the wet spot and put his dick in it. But with this girl, he wants to run his hands all over her. He points a thumb to the end of the bar to remind her they weren't alone.
"It's okay," she says. "I like an audience." She pushes the top of her dress down around her waist.
She takes another sip of her drink, and then pivots on her ass so that she's facing him, a knee on either side.
Liam grins, and reaches for his belt, but she shakes her head. "Uh-uh." She applies a steady pressure to his shoulders. It takes him a minute to realize what she wants. Oh hell no! He's never gotten down on his knees for a woman before, he's not going to start—
He does it anyway. He debases himself for her. He gets down on his knees and allows her to drag his face between those thighs. He tells himself he can make an exception for a goddess. So he does what she asks of him. Until she's screaming his name - well technically she screams her boyfriend's name first - but one hard pinch on her ass reminds her who she's with.
When she comes, he realizes he's never felt more like a man in his life. He laughs in disbelief, as he stands and starts to undo his belt again. But what the fuck is this? She slides off the other side of the bar and is heading towards the door fixing her dress. She stops to blow him a kiss. "Thanks, lovah. See you soon."
As she heads out the door, she calls over her shoulder, "All yours, Joannie."
Her black lace thong sits on the bar next to her vodka and cranberry. Liam stuffs it in his pocket, swearing to himself the next time she has the balls to come in here, he's going to be bend her over the pool table and fuck her until she can't walk. Joannie the Lush limps for the next two days.
He doesn't know how she manages to get the upper hand again. Somehow he's the one who ends up on the pool table with her straddling him. He thinks it might be the one of the best moments of his life. This is no passive fuck. She rides him hard, pulling one of his hands from her hips and pressing it between her legs. He loves how she takes control of her own pleasure.
'I could marry this girl,' he thinks watching her ample tits bounce as she bucks up and down on his cock.
He knows he's lying to himself. He's an uneducated brute making a living by drug dealing and blackmail. His world would kill everything about her that makes her special, and eventually he'd end up smacking her around like his father and his uncles and his cousins do.
No, she'll end up marrying her boyfriend, and he can only pray that she'll still want to slum it now and then.
He forgets sometimes that she's a teenager. Until he spots her down on the boardwalk with a group of friends.
He follows for a while at a distance. She's dressed age appropriately in a tee shirt and shorts, rather than the vampy dresses she wears when she comes to him. The boyfriend can't keep his hands off her. She giggles like a schoolgirl as he twirls her out and then back for a kiss. She jumps on his back for a piggyback ride. He feeds her handfuls of cotton candy. She tugs him into the shadows between food trucks while their friends pretend to be put out and catcall to 'get a room'. He drops an arm around her shoulders, leans over to kiss her every ten steps.
There's something so nauseatingly innocent about the scene.
"I saw you at the boardwalk."
She shrugs. "So? It's not a crime."
"Who are you? It's like you're two different people."
"There's more than one facet to my personality. Would you deal meth in front of your grandma?"
She has him there.
"Why don't you just put him out of his misery?" he asks. "Your boyfriend."
"I do. Sometimes."
"Is he crappy in bed or something?"
"No. He's very gifted in bed."
"What am I missing here?"
"I love him. I'm in love with him."
"Then why are you here?"
"There's different kinds of love. I can't love him the way he deserves. In the traditional sense of the word – fidelity and all that – so sometimes I set him free. After a while, I'll need him again and go running back. Vicious cycle."
"Cycles are meant to be broken."
"There's only two ways out. Either I cut off all contact and move away, or...he moves on with someone who can love him the right way. I've been laying the groundwork for the second option, but he's stubborn as hell."
"Or you could just say no."
"Why are we having this conversation?" she says. "I didn't come here for relationship advice."
He sees her a few more times. He fucks her on the bar. He fucks her on the pool table. He fucks her on the lady's room sink while the douchebag waits for her at the bar. He tries to cuddle once. She laughs. She rides his dick and she rides his face. She never goes down on him. She's always in control.
"Why do you keep coming back?" he asks her, as he sinks the ten ball. "What do I have that they don't have?"
"Danger."
"Then you're seriously underestimating the douchebag."
"He's all smoke and mirrors. I'm not afraid of him."
"You're afraid of me?"
"Nope."
"You should be."
"I know. You big scary man." She pats him on the cheek indulgently. "I don't know if anybody 's ever told you..." She lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "...but this place has a bad reputation."
Liam covers his mouth in feigned shock.
"Figure I'm bound to find a story here eventually."
"What kind of story?" Liam asks warily. "You're not writing some kind of story about me for your school newspaper or something?"
She laughs out loud. "Do you think my school newspaper would publish the sort of things I do with you? Censorship is alive and well in Neptune."
He shrugs. You never know.
"I'm talking about my memoir. Stories about the real Neptune - when you chip away the gold plating. Stories that would make my mother move to Canada just to escape the embarrassment."
He laughs now. "You do all this because you want to write a book someday?"
"A memoire. And who says I haven't started?"
She takes her turn, leaning over the table enough that her dress rides up. She sinks three balls before missing a shot on the 7-ball.
He leaves bruises on her arm when he catches her topless in the back room on top of his niece, Molly. She leaves a scar on his forehead when she picks up the nearest bottle of Jack Daniels and smashes him in the face with it. Later, Dr. Griffith offers to fix it, but he wears the scar like a badge of honor. It's the only proof he has that she was ever a part of his life.
She comes back. September 28th. Pretends she did nothing wrong. Actually laughs at his stitches. He fucks her from behind, but knows it's only because she's humoring him.
He never sees her again.
When he learns of her death, he does over $20,000 worth of property damage around town and puts two innocent people in the hospital for getting in his way. One of them is Ciaran.
He never even got to kiss her on the mouth.
Liam Fitzpatrick - Day Six - Interstate 10 - Western Florida
Her lace thong still hung from his rearview. He punched his cousin Danny once for touching it. As traffic was light on the freeway, he took a moment to push back his hair to examine the J-shaped scar on his forehead in the mirror.
He still missed her. All the time.
His phone rang. Private caller.
"Hello?"
"Liam," the smooth voice said. "Please don't hang up on me again."
Ah...her murderer. If he had proof, the man would be dead already.
"What do you want," he grunted. He's been calling every day since that video aired.
"How much do you want?"
"For?"
"You know what for. To leave Logan alone. Ten thousand?"
Liam chuckled.
"Fifteen."
"You make twenty million a picture, and you're offering me twenty thousand?"
"Fine. What do you want?"
Liam waited him out. He would start screaming any minute now.
"A million?"
"Two million?"
"What makes you think there's any amount of money you could pay me?"
"Listen you fucker!"
And here we go…
"You touch one hair on Logan's head and I will kill you."
"Then who would supply your nose candy?"
"Are you listening to me?"
"…"
"YOU TOUCH HIM AND I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN."
"Try starting at the River Stix."
"I'LL TAKE MY TIME AND MAKE YOU SUFFER. I'LL SCOOP OUT YOUR EYEBALLS WITH A RUSTY TEASPOON. I'LL STICK MY OSCAR SO FAR UP YOUR ASS YOU'LL WIN BEST PERFORMANCE AS A STICK PUPPET."
"You done?"
"I'LL RIP OFF YOUR FUCKING HEAD AND USE IT AS A SOCCER BALL! I WILL PEEL YOU LIKE A FUCKING GRAPE AND FEED YOUR ENTRAILS TO MY WIFE'S ALPACA. THEY'LL HAVE TO IDENTIFY YOU BY YOUR DENTAL RECORDS."
"Very creative Aaron, but alpacas are plant eaters, you fucking moron."
"YOU THINK THIS IS A FUCKING JOKE?"
"Not at all. In fact, you've inspired me. Logan's dental records are up to date, right?"
"YOU MOTHER FUCKER. YOU TOUCH HIM I'LL—"
Liam disconnected the call.
The funny thing? Logan was at the bottom of his hit list. He'd rather kill the father than the son.
Abel Koontz, my ass.
Duncan Kane would get the blowtorch. It would be very slow and excruciatingly painful. He'd taken away the only remaining person who mattered to Liam.
Veronica Mars...?
Liam remembered running into the Mars family once at the annual Neptune carnival - Summer 2003. Keith Mars had given him a tense greeting while his hands tightened around the shoulders of his wife and daughter. Lianne Mars would have fit in perfectly at the River Stix. She had the same dead eyes as so many of his patrons. The daughter, Veronica came across as mousy and meek. Later, when he'd caught her alone, he had stepped up behind her and said 'BOO' in her ear. She'd shrieked and jumped like a timid little rodent.
The girl he'd caught up with at the Sweet Dreams motel had been anything but meek or timid. She'd tasered him for fuck's sake. It was almost as if she had absorbed some of Lilly's soul. He rubbed at his scar, as he always did when he thought of her. Veronica's transformation intrigued him.
He regretted now that he'd never taken out Keith Mars. Had he done so years ago, Veronica would never have set all of this into motion. He would still have a brother, and he could have spent more time observing her. Searching for more signs of Lilly. It was too late now. She needed to die, but for the sake of Lilly, he would make sure it was quick and painless.
As for Logan…
He'd known Logan the instant he came face to face with him, but not from any magazine spread.
As the son of a harsh and brutal man, Liam had recognized the sadism in Aaron Echolls' eyes the first time they met back in 2000. No skin off his back. Aaron was one of his best repeat customers, and he bought in quantity. It wasn't until Lilly that he started considering what the man might be capable of.
In some ways, despite the money, he thought Logan probably had it even worse than he had. Old Cormac Fitzpatrick had five boys to split his cruelty amongst. With the daughter out of the house, Logan Echolls was essentially an only child. Liam's father was a drunk, which was a sedative. Aaron flew into frequent coke rages. In fact, he'd just been having one.
Seeing Logan had been a confirmation of everything he'd assumed over the years. There had been a weary resolve in the boy's eyes. The look of somebody who knew an attack was imminent, but would stand and face it. As they'd fought, Liam found in Logan the same ability to turn off the pain as he himself ha d developed over the years. And even though he had a good fifty pounds on the boy, he'd come the closest to being Liam's match as anybody had in years. Since that last knock-down-drag-out with Cormac.
And then, he'd loved Lilly.
In a way, Liam felt a sick sort of kinship with the boy. Maybe a grudging respect. In the end, he would end up dead as well. He didn't need to kill the kid, but Liam felt certain he would be forced to go through Logan to get to Veronica and Duncan.
Logan's problem - and biggest weakness - was that he was in love with the girl. That had been fairly obvious, but he'd tested the theory by threatening to rape her. The boy had gone berserk trying to get to him.
Veronica Mars would end up getting Logan Echolls killed. He'd try to make it quick for him as well. Maybe a bullet to the brain. He'd suffered enough having to live with the douchebag.
The AC-DC song on the radio suddenly turned off.
Announcer: We interrupt this radio program for breaking news. Riots broke out earlier today at a Dallas area mall when upwards of a hundred...teenage girls...set off alarms and overwhelmed security guards to aid in the escape of known fugitives Logan Echolls and Veronica Mars. Earlier reports that the duo had been apprehended in Orlando, Florida have now been proven to be false. More details to follow.
"Fuck!" He pounded the steering wheel.
The song started back up, and Liam pulled to the side of the road.
He dialed a preset on his cell.
"Don Lamb."
"What the fuck?"
"Liam."
"You told me they were in Orlando. Now I'm hearing they were just seen at a Dallas mall."
"They're in Dallas," Lamb said, his voice weary. "I'm sitting at the Orlando airport. My flight to Dallas boards in about fifteen minutes."
"How can we be sure it's really them this time? It could be another pair of lookalikes."
"Oh it's them." Lamb said. "Logan Echolls tried to use his credit card at a book store before Veronica stopped him. We also had a hit on Duncan Kane's email address. It was being used at a Dallas library."
"Fuck. I've been driving for hours!" Liam punched his steering wheel. "What else do we know?"
"The locals pulled the browser history for the terminal Duncan Kane was using at the library. He was searching for apartments in Chicago and Cleveland using one of those real estate sites. I can get you a list of apartments he added to 'save for later' queue once it's been compiled."
"And what were the other two doing at the mall?"
"Purchasing City Guides for the same two cities. They stopped for a bite to eat when they were surrounded by teenagers. I guess somebody overheard them discussing their trip and spread it over the internet."
"Did either of them have a backpack with them? Dark blue and gray?"
"I'll let you know after I've seen the tapes."
"Alright," Liam exhaled in annoyance. "I'll be back in Dallas by morning. You had better have some information for me when I get there."
He hung up the phone, pulled onto the road, and did a U-turn at the next pull off.
Logan Echolls tried to use his credit card?
I'm disappointed in you, Logan. Thought you were smarter than that.
A/N1: Much thanks to ShanghaiLily for beta-ing and providing valuable insight.
A/N2: So sorry for the delay on this chapter. I'd really really hoped to finish up Day 6 in one chapter. Unfortunately, it was running way too long. The good news is, most of the next chapter is already written - first draft - so hopefully, I'll be able to finish it in about a week.
A/N3: So that Liam stuff... It's almost as if I use a different section of my brain when I write in that fast-paced present-tense italics format. Weird stuff emerges (see also Duncan dreams), but I kind of like it. It started out much more explicit, and I actually toned it down a lot. So...how uncomfortable were you, trying to choose who to root for in the Liam/Aaron phone spat?
A/N4: To those who have reviewed. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! You all are so amazing. Oh, and 'anonymous me' (who always gives the best reviews - so detailed and helpful) guessed correctly. The movie the mall/fountain chase was inspired by was 'The Legend of Billie Jean'. No, I'm not endorsing the movie. It was at times, pretty terrible, but features folk hero outlaws - like this story.