Crazy for Her(65)

“Go away.” He picked up his wine, draining the glass. His sights settled on the horizon.

“Logan, look at me.”

A muscle twitched in his jaw, but he turned back and focused his gaze on the vicinity of her left ear. Okay, so he couldn’t meet her eyes, but she would at least make him listen. “You said you almost raped a girl, but you didn’t. Why not? What stopped you?”

Troubled eyes flickered to hers before returning to the study of her ear. “Her hair reminded me of Maria’s and I thought . . . I thought, what if some guys were doing this to my sister?”

“Guys, as in there was more than one of you?”

His eyelids closed and he sighed. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

Liar. He wanted to, but more important, he needed to. If he didn’t, he would’ve left by now. Once again, she found herself searching for the right words. If she’d known she would be having this conversation, she would’ve studied psychology. There were no magic words, so she decided to worm the story out of him with questions.

“How many boys were involved in the almost-rape?”

“Three.”

“How old were you?”

“Fifteen.”

Where would a fifteen-year-old most likely be for something like a gang rape to happen? “Were you at a party where there was drinking?”

“Yes.”

If she was going to have to guess and get only one-word answers in response, they might be there all night. So be it. He was about to find out how stubborn she could be.

She wished he would open his eyes so she could gauge his reactions to the questions. “I imagine everyone was drunk or near to it and there was some making out going on?”

“You could say that.”

“Where were you?”

“On the beach.”

“With a bonfire and a boom box blasting out music?”

“Don’t forget the hotdogs and beer.”

Well, at least she was getting more than one-word answers now. She took it as a sign of progress. Teens with too much to drink at a party did stupid things, things they’d never do otherwise. An image of Regan, fifteen and at a drinking party, flashed through her mind. No way. The kid was staying locked in her room until she was at least thirty.

Dani took a guess. “Things got out of hand, maybe? A line got crossed and one of you convinced the others she wanted it, so the three of you took her away from the party.”

He nodded.

Now for the big one. “Was it your idea?”

His eyes opened and focused on her. “No.”

Careful not to let her relief show, Dani nodded as if she had fully expected that answer. “But you stopped it. Peer pressure at that age is a parent’s nightmare, but you stood up to your friends when it would have been easier to go along.”

“Only because her hair reminded me of Maria’s.”

“Stop it. I don’t believe that for one second. Maria was what, four or five when it happened? Although that may have been the excuse you gave yourself at the time because you were looking for a reason to put an end to something that had gotten out of hand, you didn’t look at that girl and think of your sister.

“What happened to the girl?”

“I got her out of there and walked her home.”

An insight came to her then. “As much as you might not want to hear this, you should probably thank your mother you’re not a rapist.”

The warmth that had been slowly returning to his eyes vanished. “Like hell. If anything, she would’ve been the reason I would have taken a girl against her will. I have her blood in me.”

“Bullshit.” Dani lowered her face toward his, could almost feel the fire flashing from her glare. “Bullshit, Logan Kincaid. Blood keeps your heart beating, keeps you alive, nothing more. You are everything she wasn’t and never, God damn it—” She paused and took a deep breath. “You could never bring yourself to use a woman like that because you never wanted to be like her.”

“You don’t have to yell, I’m right here,” he said just before his mouth crashed down on hers.



 Logan couldn’t believe she stayed after his confession. Why wasn’t she disgusted? She should’ve run away as fast as her legs could carry her. But she’d stayed, asked him questions he didn’t want to answer, yet found himself doing so, and the only thing he could think to do now was kiss her. “I love you” almost tumbled out of his mouth when she’d dismissed his bad blood so easily, but he managed to bite back the words.

If he told her the other thing, how would she react? He pushed the thought away. Never, ever would he tell her about that. He wasn’t a religious man, but he couldn’t help thanking Jesus she was snuggling against him and not in her room packing so she could leave tomorrow with Buchanan. Offering to send her home with Romeo had been the hardest thing he’d ever done.