My Forever

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My Forever Page 25

by J. L. Perry


  “Is everything alright?” I ask.

  He gives me a small nod. “I had a missed call from your father,” he replies.

  My heart drops. “Is Angel okay?”

  “She’s fine and is already asleep. He wanted to tell me that some police officers came to the penthouse looking for me. They wouldn’t tell him what it was regarding, but left their contact details with him. They want me to call the police station when I get home.”

  “Do you want to go?”

  He puts his arm around me. “Whatever they want, I’m sure it can wait.” I reach up and brush my lips softly against his and ask him if he is sure. He threads his fingers through mine and smiles, pulling me back towards the theatre. His smile is forced again, and I can tell he is worried.

  It is hard to fully concentrate during the second half of the ballet. I keep looking over at Logan and I can tell that his mind is elsewhere. At one point, I reach my hand over and place it on his knee. He looks over at me and smiles as he places his hand on top of mine.

  ****

  Logan

  I try hard not to worry about the police coming to the penthouse but, for the life of me, I can’t think of what they want to see me about. It makes me think of that horrific day. The one when they came to my office after the accident that killed Chris, and almost took the life my wife and child. I am sure that if it was something important like that, they would have tried harder to find me—or, at the very least, tried to contact me by phone.

  Before we left tonight, I informed my uncle where we would be and roughly what time he could expect us home. He passed that information on to the officers, but they just left their contact details and asked me to call as soon as I arrive back home.

  I am relieved when the ballet finally ends. I loved watching Brooke enjoy the first half of the ballet but, unfortunately, my mind has been elsewhere during the second half. I just want to go home so I can call the police and find out what was going on.

  The sooner I make the phone call, the sooner I can take my beautiful wife to bed and make love to her. While we wait for the valet to bring the car around, I wrap my arms around Brooke from behind, and rest my chin on her head. I ask her if she enjoyed her night, and she says that it was wonderful. Seeing her happy like this is something I love.

  On the drive back home, I am quiet. I’m not intentionally ignoring her. My mind is just occupied. Brooke reaches over and puts her hand on my leg. “You are awfully quiet, babe,” she says, concerned. “Are you sure that you are okay?”

  “I am just curious as to what the police want,” I reply. “For the life of me, I can’t think of anything. I will be glad to get home and call them so I can put my mind at ease.”

  As we are pulling up to our building, I notice a patrol car parked out front. As I pass it and turn to make my way into the underground garage, they pull in behind me, turning on their flashing lights. I put the car in park before I enter the garage and reach for the handle to get out.

  Both officers have already exited their car and are walking towards us. One officer comes to my side of the car and the other goes to Brooke’s. I press the button to wind down my window.

  “Evening,” I say politely. “Is there a problem, officer?”

  “Are you Logan Cavanagh?” he asks.

  “Yes.”

  “Would you mind stepping out of the vehicle, Mr. Cavanagh?” the officer asks.

  “Is there a problem?” I ask again, reaching for the door handle. The officer doesn’t reply until I get out of the car. He asks me to turn around and place my hands on the roof of the vehicle. It shocks me because I am now under the impression that I am in some kind of trouble. That can’t be right. I’ve never broken the law in my life. In my line of work, it is important to stay out of trouble.

  Well, maybe I’ve broken a few speed limits in my time, but never with my pregnant wife in the car. I would never put her life in danger like that. Of course, I can be pretty ruthless when it comes to some of my cases, but I never did anything that was dishonest or illegal.

  I hear Brooke ask the other officer what is going on. He asks her to remain in the car, but that was it. I am starting to get pissed now. I can tell that she is worried and that’s the last thing I want.

  “Do you mind telling me what the hell is going on here?” I snap. The officer pats me down to look for weapons, which is fucking ridiculous. “I am really starting to lose my patience,” I say to him in the calmest voice I can muster, considering the anger that is now raging through me.

  He reaches up for one of my arms, bringing it behind my back. He reads me my rights, then tells me that I am under arrest for the sexual assault of Kristy Adams. What the fuck did he just say?! Some fucking heads are going to roll for this.

  “I don’t know what he fuck you are talking about,” I reply. “I don’t even know a Kristy Adams.”

  I can hear Brooke crying as she exits the car. “What’s going on?!” she screams as the officer leads me toward the back of the patrol car. I don’t know what to say her, but I know they have made a terrible mistake. I’ve never sexually assaulted anyone in my life.

  “Call my dad, babe,” I say in the calm voice, even though I feel like screaming. “Everything will be fine. Don’t worry.” The look of horror on her face breaks my heart. I don’t want to frighten her any more than she already is. She is pregnant and the last thing she needs is a scare. By the time they put me in the back of the car, I am mad. Fucking furious, actually!

  “I don’t know what the hell is going on here,” I say to the officer, “but I can assure you that you’ve made a serious mistake. I’m not going to forget the way I have been treated tonight. Someone is going to pay dearly for this.”

  “I am sorry, Mr. Cavanagh,” the officer replies. “We are just doing our job. Our orders were to arrest you and bring you in for questioning. If a mistake has been made, it can be sorted out when we get to the station.”

  A fucking mistake has definitely been made, you cocksucker!

  As the patrol car backs out of the driveway, I look out the back window to where Brooke is standing. She is already on her mobile phone and looks like she is crying.

  Leaving her standing there all alone and crying is fucking killing me. I tilt my head back so it rests on the back of the seat. I close my eyes and try to rack my brain. Who in the fuck is Kristy Adams?

  Immediately, I bolt upright and scream, “FUCK!”

  ****

  Brooke

  I quickly search through my clutch as the officers lead Logan to the patrol car. My hands are shaking as I struggle to search my phone for his father’s mobile number. The tears blurring my vision aren’t helping, either.

  When I finally find his number, I press CALL. He doesn’t answer and the voicemail message clicks in. I hang up and quickly call the home number. Thankfully, he answers this time. It sounds like I woke him up.

  “Oh, thank god,” I say when I hear his voice.

  “Brooke, is that you?” he replies in a raspy voice.

  “Yes,” I reply, a sob escaping me. “It’s Logan. He’s been arrested.”

  “What?! Why was he arrested?!” I hear his mother gasp in the background.

  “I not sure, but I heard the officer say something about a sexual assault,” I reply, my head trying to comprehend what that meant. Logan would never do anything like that. There has to be a mistake. I know my husband and that’s not something he would do. I feel the bile rise in my throat as the magnitude of the situation starts to settle in.

  Logan’s father passes the phone to his wife so he can put some clothes on. She says that they will go straight to the police station. “It must be a mistake,” she assures me. “Logan would never do anything to jeopardise what he has with you, Brooke. You have to believe that.” I want to believe it with all my heart, but what if she is wrong? Suddenly, I feel the bile rise to my throat again. This time, I lose the contents of my stomach all over the driveway.

  “Brooke, honey,” I
hear her say. “We are about to leave to go to the police station. Where are you? I will call John.”

  In between sobs, I say, “I’m downstairs, outside of the parking garage.”

  “Stay where you are and I will get him to come down to you,” she says. “Everything will be alright. I promise you, honey. We will call you when we get to the police station.” Then she hangs up.

  I lean up against the side of the building. My head is spinning and my body is shaking uncontrollably. How can this be happening? Fuck, just when things are going good for us again, this happens. Haven’t we suffered enough? I’m so angry right now, I want to fucking scream.

  A few minutes later, the garage door opens and my father comes running over to me. He quickly pulls me into a hug. “Oh, sweetheart,” he says. “Are you okay?” I collapse into him and start sobbing. He holds me tight. “What happened, Brooke?”

  “Can we go to him?” I plead. “I will explain everything to you on the way.” I don’t exactly know what’s going on myself, but I know that he needs me. I want to be there for him, like he is always there for me.

  “Sure, sweetheart,” he replies. “Anything you want. Can I borrow your phone so I can call Jill and let her know what’s going on?” I pass him my phone as I get into the car. Thankfully, he is here to drive me because there is no way I can drive anywhere. My whole body is shaking.

  When we arrive at the police station, my phone rings. It is Logan’s mum. I tell her that we are outside, trying to find a parking spot, then I ask her if Logan is alright.

  “He is still in the interview room, honey,” she explains. “His father’s in there with him. That’s all I can tell you right now.” I can tell she is just as worried as I am. All I can think about is Logan. No matter how worried we all are for him, I’m sure he is feeling it the most.

  We walk inside and Logan’s mum runs straight over to us. I can tell she’s been crying. She quickly hugs me and leads me over to sit down. My father goes over to talk with the officer sitting behind the desk.

  “How is he holding up?” I ask.

  “I haven’t seen him yet. When we arrived, he was already talking to the detectives in the interview room.” I put my head in my hands and start to cry again. I can’t believe this is happening. Our night had been so perfect, and then this happens.

  After talking to the officer for over ten minutes, my father comes and sits with us. “They won’t tell me anything,” he says and I can tell he is angry. “These charges are a total farce.” He grabs my hand. “How are you holding up?” I shrug. I can’t really answer because I don’t know how I am feeling. I just want to see my husband and find out what is going on.

  We sit there for hours, waiting. My father asks to borrow my phone again to call Jill. “I’m not sure how long we’ll be here, so tell Jill to sleep in one of the spare rooms if she wants,” I say to him as he dials the number. The amount of time it is taking is making me very nervous. If this is just a misunderstanding like everyone says, why is it taking so long?

  We sit there for another hour before Logan’s dad finally comes out. I can tell by the look on his face that it hadn’t gone well. I quickly get up from the chair and run over to him. “Where is Logan?” I ask.

  “They’ve taken him downstairs for fingerprinting.”

  “What?! Why?!”

  He quickly pulls me in for a hug. “I am sorry, honey,” he says, “but he’s been charged. I have posted bail, so he should be out of here soon.”

  My brain is in overdrive. What is that supposed to mean? Was he guilty? I know my husband and he would never do something like that, even if he wasn’t happily married. Sexually assaulting someone is not in his nature. Plus, he wouldn’t need to force himself on anyone. Women fell at his feet all the time. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. He can have any women he wants.

  “Why would they charge him?” I ask, confused. “He would never do something like that. This must be some kind of misunderstanding.”

  “I am sorry, Brooke, but what it boils down to is that it’s his word against hers. I know my son, and I know he wouldn’t do this. Don’t worry, honey. We will fight this. I won’t rest until I clear his name.” He tightens his grip on me, and I can tell that he is just as concerned as I am.

  I can hear Logan’s mum crying behind me. This is bad…so very bad.

  ****

  Logan

  Thank god that is finally over. I am tired, pissed, and extremely worried. Accusations like this could ruin me. Not just my marriage and my family, but my career and my business, as well. My father posted bail, so I am on my way back upstairs to be released. I’ve never experienced the humiliation of being arrested before, and I don’t fucking want to ever go through it again.

  I have no idea why Kristy would say that I assaulted her. It would have to be for some kind of financial gain because, in the week that she’s been working for me, we scarcely even interacted. Now I know why she left the building in such a hurry. Fucking bitch! It was all part of her plan to have me framed. I never laid a fucking finger on her. I’ve had my fair share of women before Brooke, I’ll admit that, but never in my life have I forced myself on anyone. I’ve had no inclination whatsoever to even be with another woman since I met her either. She is it for me.

  Unfortunately, though, it is Kristy’s word against mine. I know she can’t possibly have any kind evidence because it never fucking happened. One thing is sure. I am going to fight this with everything I have. I’m not going to let some crazy, lying bitch ruin my life.

  First thing Monday morning, we will subpoena any evidence she supposedly has on me and sort this mess out. But, right now, I just want to see Brooke. Leaving her in the driveway like that almost killed me. She must be going out of her mind with worry. After everything she has been through lately, this is the last thing she needs. I just hope that she has enough faith in me to realise that this isn’t true. If I lose her and my beautiful little family over something like this, it will fucking kill me.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Brooke

  It is nearly four in the morning before Logan finally comes into the waiting area. Saying he looks like shit is putting it mildly. The look on his face when he walks through the door almost breaks my heart. He looks so defeated. As soon as our eyes lock, the stress, concern, and uncertainty on his face is evident. I quickly get up off the chair and run to him, throwing myself into his arms.

  I am still unsure what to make of the allegations against him but, right now, he needs me. After everything I have been through since we met, not once was he not there for me. He is always compassionate, caring, and supportive. As his wife, I am damn well going to be there for him.

  I would be lying if I said I’m not concerned why someone would accuse him of doing this, but I have to believe that there is a logical explanation because anything else will crush me. I would like to think that I know my husband well enough to know that he would never do something like this to me or our daughter. We are happy together and our sex life is wonderful. He wouldn’t have the need to go to someone else for something that he is getting plenty of at home. Unless…maybe he is sick of me.

  “Oh, baby,” he says, wrapping his arms tightly around me as a small sob escapes me. “I am sorry to put you through this. I hope you believe that I would never do anything to jeopardise what we have.” His voice cracks and I can feel his body trembling. God, I want to believe him more than anything. He is my life. It would kill me if what we have ended. I can’t think of that now, though. It is all too overwhelming. I am sure what Logan is feeling at this moment far outweighs all of our concerns.

  When I don’t answer him, he gently grabs my face and tilts my head up slightly so I am looking into his eyes…his beautiful green, tormented eyes. I swear I feel my heart break in two as I look at the pain etched on his face. I can tell that he is franticly searching my face for any clues that I believe him.

  “I love you so much, baby,” he says. “Please believe me. I don’t
want to lose you. I couldn’t survive if I lost you.” The tears are forming in his eyes as he speaks.

  “I believe you,” I whisper. More than anything, I want to believe him. Until I have proof that what he is saying isn’t true, I am going to stick by him and support him.

  He gently brushes his lips against mine, then pulls me back into his embrace. “Thank fucking Christ for that,” he breathes, and I feel his body relax a bit. “I could possibly lose my career and my business over this, but if I lost you, my life would not be worth living.” I don’t know what to say to that. I haven’t really thought about what the implications of these allegations are.

  Logan’s mum comes over and wraps her arms around both of us. “When is life going to give you two a break?” she cries. “You are two of the sweetest people I know, and I can’t believe you are facing another crisis. It just makes me so angry.” I feel one of her tears drop onto my arm. The whole ordeal is just one big nightmare.

  As we start to leave the police station, I grab hold of Logan’s hand. He threads his fingers through mine and gives my hand a little squeeze.

  As we make our way to the exit, my father pats Logan’s shoulder. “We will get to the bottom of this, kiddo. You can bet your life on it.” As bad as this situation is, I feel a little peace when he says that.

  With his father and mine, plus the best legal team in the country at his disposal, I hope everything will be alright.

  That thought doesn’t last very long, though. When we step out onto the sidewalk, we are suddenly pounced on by the media, cameras and microphones shoved in our faces. The noise is deafening as everybody tries to speak over one another. I’ve seen scenes like this on television, but I have never experienced it first-hand.

  Logan’s father quickly stands in front of us. “There is no comment at this time,” he says, trying to clear a path.

  Logan quickly puts his arms around me to protect me from the mob. Somebody suddenly shoves a microphone in my face. “What do you have to say about your husband being charged for sexually assaulting a minor, Mrs. Cavanagh?” he asks. “Do you have any concerns for your daughter or your unborn child?”

 

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