CRASH (A Logan Brothers Novel)

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CRASH (A Logan Brothers Novel) Page 8

by L. A. Shorter


  I grabbed a glass and downed a shot of whiskey as he left the room. The liquid warmed my throat and settled down into my stomach. I took another and sank back into my chair, my mind rolling around in turmoil.

  I was juggling so much shit right now I knew something would eventually come down onto my head. There was this ongoing investigation into my fathers murder, something I'd never stop looking into. Then there was this deal with my investors, a problem that was constantly front and center of my mind.

  My father had built a strong business. I wanted to expand it into an empire. Build on his legacy. Make sure the name of Logan was never forgotten.

  Of course, Kyle was acting as another thorn in my side. He was still pushing me to find a replacement for him at the club, threatening constantly to walk away. I knew he wouldn't though. What the fuck would he do out from under the umbrella of our families wealth? He had no credentials to speak of. All he knew was running a strip club. And if he left, I'd make sure no one within a thousand clicks would hire him. There was no space for disloyalty in this family.

  The news from Jones wasn't the way I wanted to start the day. I had a serious meeting to get to later on and had hoped it to be on a happier footing. Now my mind was clouded by thoughts of my father once more, and I needed to clear the air in my head before doing anything else.

  I stood and stepped out of my office. The casino floor below me was quiet, most of the all night punters having cleared out earlier in the morning. It would pick up again as the day went on, but right now it was at its lowest ebb, like the embers of a fire just waiting to spark back into life.

  I walked out into the parking lot and sucked in air, feeling the cool morning breeze rush over my face. I needed calmness, I needed serenity, I needed to clear the cobwebs before my meeting. This was a biggie, and I needed to convince my investors that I was a safe bet.

  Crash, in your current state of mind, you couldn't convince a prostitute to open her legs. Get your fucking act together.

  I climbed into my Hummer and turned the ignition, the engine roaring to life like a lion. There was only one place I knew to go where my mind would find some calm. A place I always gravitated to as a kid if I was scared or upset.

  Hopefully, now, it would have the same effect.

  ....

  No one knew of my love for art. I guess if they did it would diminish my reputation a little bit. It wasn't like I was an expert or anything. Far from it in fact. No, I just found it relaxing looking at paintings that were created hundreds of years ago.

  I couldn't really explain why, but I'd been going to the Museum of Art since I was a kid. I'd just sit and look at the paintings for hours. Somehow it put my life in perspective, made me see how I was just a tiny cog in a massive machine.

  It also made me want to leave this world with my stamp well and truly upon it. I'd look at the paintings and think of how their creators would live forever, always remembered in the minds of those looking at their work.

  I wanted the same for me. I wanted the same for my family. It was an ambition that I was always working to see realized. Now, just maybe, that was becoming a reality.

  The museum was situated in the center of town, along one side of a large open square. It was grand and imposing, a common site for tourists and art students. There were many rooms inside, many treasures to enjoy within, hundreds of years of art history covered. It was the only real piece of culture that infiltrated my life.

  On the other side of the square sat the Museum of Modern Art. That place didn't interest me in the same way. I'd been in there once, but never returned. It just didn't hold the same gravitas for me, the same weight of history.

  And the art itself - I felt I could have pulled some of it off myself. I mean, a 6 foot canvas painting that looked like it could have been done by a 2 year old doing a finger painting didn't impress me. If I could do it, what was the point?

  I sat in the central hall of the museum now, my mind sifting through a thousand memories of my youth. I remembered coming here after I'd beaten up Jimmy Trenton, this kid at school. It was the first time I'd been in a fight, and I was terrified I'd go to jail or something. Stupid kid, didn't know what I was thinking.

  I came here when my mom died. She was killed in a car crash when I was 18. I hated that I had no one to blame, nowhere to direct my anger. I wanted to punch straight through the walls but I came here instead.

  And now I sat here again, the death of my other parent weighing heavy on my mind. This time was different. This time there was someone to blame. What crushed at my lungs more than anything, however, was that I didn't know who it was.

  The minutes ticked by as my mind began to calm. It always did here. It helped me put things in perspective, get my priorities straight. I wanted to be remembered. I wanted to forge my name into the foundations of this fucking country. Just like these artists all around me and the works they'd created, I wanted to live forever.

  ....

  I stood and walked from the central hall back towards the main exit, my mind clearing. The weather outside was crisp, the chill of the morning given over to warm sunshine flowing down from above.

  I breathed in deep as I stood on the front steps, the large square ahead of me. There seemed to be something going on down there, some sort of street performance to entertain the gathering crowds.

  Tourists were standing in a large circle around the side of the square, all of them looking in and holding their cameras aloft. I watched with mild interest as a group of girls stepped into the center, dressed in black and white tights.

  The sound of music suddenly filled the air down below as the group began dancing and moving in unison, their bodies flowing around and over each other. The black and white of their leotards was quite striking as their bodies flowed in twisting and turning motions, graceful and poetic.

  It wasn't a scene that would usually interest me but something caught my eye.

  I moved in closer, down the steps towards the crowd as the dancers continued to perform, the flashing of cameras doing nothing to put them off.

  My eyes fixed on one of the girls. Her body looked exceptional in the tights, her frame petite yet with a curve, her movements feminine and sensual. I tried to get a good look at her face, but other bodies and arms kept obscuring her.

  Then, from nowhere, she turned and stopped in front of me, the performance ending as abruptly as it had started. She held her head down, her blonde hair tied back to keep it from her eyes. Slowly, as the claps of the audience began to rise, her head lifted, a wide smile upon it, her blue eyes sparkling.

  It was Elle.

  Her eyes danced over the crowd, thanking them for their applause. I stood tall above them, towards the back, my eyes set directly on her. She suddenly turned towards me, as though she'd felt my gaze upon her, and her smile widened.

  She looked so relieved, so excited, so pumped with adrenaline. I guess it was probably the first time she'd danced in front of people.

  She should do it again.

  She spontaneously set forward, pushing through the crowd as they watched on at her, walking straight at me.

  I stayed motionless. She looked gorgeous, her face completely lit up, an energy in her that I hadn't seen before.

  It seemed to give her life as she thrust her hands forward and grabbed at my body, her lips rushing straight into mine as the crowd cheered behind her.

  Before I knew what was going on she'd stepped back, that coy look I'd seen before creeping quickly back onto her face. I couldn't help the frown from dominating my expression. I must have looked like I'd just been accosted by a madman.

  Her face turned embarrassed at seeing my expression and she quickly turned and rushed back towards her friends, who were now gathering their things at the far side of the crowd and seemingly preparing to leave.

  I opened my mouth to speak but had nothing to say, the crowd once more engulfing Elle as she disappeared.

  A smile hit my face.

  Well that w
as unexpected.

  Chapter 12 - Elle

  Elle

  “Look, what's the big deal? If that's the most embarrassing you've ever done then you should count yourself lucky!”

  I had, literally, never been so embarrassed in my life. Lexi was doing her best to cheer me up but I was having none of it.

  I mean, sure there was the skinny dipping incident in front of my entire year but I was drunk then. Its different hearing about things after the event to actually remembering them first hand.

  I sat there on the steps outside of the Modern Art Museum, my head in my hands. His face when I kissed him. He looked at me like I was mad or something.

  I mean, what did I expect. He was this millionaire businessman, a guy who ran a casino and a load of other businesses. I was just a stupid little shy girl who he'd taken pity on a couple of times. What, did I take that to mean he liked me or something?

  Idiot Elle.

  I don't know what came over me though. The dance had been a blur. I'd been so nervous beforehand, I didn't think I could go through with it. When it started, though, I got lost into it. It was liberating, and when it ended, I couldn't stop the adrenaline from rushing through my body.

  It was like this surge of excitement. I'd never felt anything like it before. The crowd were clapping and cheering, cameras flashing and clicking. And then I saw him, standing at the back of the crowd, his tall frame carrying his eyeline over their heads.

  He looked directly at me, smiling. It was as if he knew I'd be there, like he had come down to see me perform. I knew that wasn't the case, but in the moment that thought kidnapped my mind.

  I went straight for him, I couldn't help it. That beautiful smile, those hazel eyes looking at me in a way that made my legs go weak. The excitement got to me, and I lunged for him. I could barely remember doing it now, but I knew it had happened.

  The numb feeling of humiliation radiating through my body was enough to convince me of that.

  Lexi was laughing in a sort of funny consoling way. “Elle, seriously, it can't have been that bad?”

  “It was worse,” I said blankly, my voice muffled by my hands.

  “So you kissed him, big deal. It's kinda romantic, don't you think?”

  “Err, yeah a completely one-sided romance. He just looked at me like I was a fucking lunatic. You didn't see his face Lex. It was like a mixture of shock and disgust.”

  She was still laughing. “It can't have been that bad babe. You're acting like you've never been rejected.”

  Oh God. Rejected. What a horrible word.

  I took my head from my hands and looked at her. “And you have?”

  “All the time!”

  “Bullshit. When would you ever get rejected?”

  “I used to when I was younger. You didn't see me as a teen. I had this mouth full of braces and these little skinny legs. The worst was this guy I liked at school, Billy. He didn't just reject me. Literally, he actually got angry that I asked him out. Angry! Can you imagine that?!”

  “What a douche.”

  “I know!”

  I couldn't help but smile at Lexi's honesty. And, of course, the idea of her as this skinny teenage girl with braces. That was a funny image.

  “Look, lets grab lunch and have a cocktail, take your mind off it. Alice is coming down with Tess, we can have a girly day.”

  “Fine, but no mention of this to them. I just know how Tess will react, and frankly, it's a little close to home with Alice. So don't let it slip, all right?”

  She nodded, her smiley face still enjoying my pain.

  “Not a word.”

  ....

  An hour or so later we sat in a four at a nice little outdoor restaurant on the river. The sun was out and streaming down onto our shoulders, the days turning warmer as summer approached.

  Tess was her usually buoyant self, nattering away happily about all of the latest gossip she'd heard over the last week or two. She was quite like Lexi actually. They were both so smiley and bubbly, always looking to have fun and make the best of any situation.

  Alice was much more solemn, much quieter. She had this air about her, this sort of gravitas as though she was the leader, the queen bee. It wasn't like she was a bitch or wanted that mantle. It was just her. She held an inner power, this confidence. I didn't think much would phase her.

  And yet, she was full of mysteries. That conversation I'd heard her have with Kyle at the twins birthday. I wondered what it was about that place, about that hotel that she hated so much. This girl was strong minded and unflappable. What had happened there that shattered her calm?

  I hadn't seen Tess since that night. When she brought it up, I could sense Alice retreating back into her shell a little bit.

  “So Elle,” Tess started, her face smothered in this suggestive look, “I saw you leaving with Crash Logan himself the other night. That was an interesting turn of events?!”

  Alice looked up at me as Tess spoke, a look of slight surprise on her face. Clearly she didn't know about it.

  It was hard for me to answer her while keeping my tone completely flat. I mean, that night had been a disaster until Crash came along. I couldn't see what others had said about him. This guy who plundered his way through life, not caring who got in his way.

  He had been made to sound a brute, but that wasn't the guy I saw. Maybe he showed me a different side. Maybe with me he had no reason to live up to the reputation that had been built up around him. Maybe with me he could be himself.

  “Oh yeah” I said, “we just had a drink upstairs in the hotel bar.”

  “Anddd?” Tess carried on, dragging the word out, as if there was more to tell. There wasn't really. Nothing of note.

  “And that's it.” My tone was turning defensive. I did that when under the spotlight. It made me seem guilty of something.

  “If you say so,” said Tess. “I saw how you stared him down that first night you arrived. There was a spark there. Something's going to happen between you two, I can feel it.”

  My mind turned back about an hour. Yeah, right.

  “I wouldn't go there if I were you.” It was Alice, her words carrying a weight.

  “Hey come on Alice, you went there with Kyle. And Crash, he's solar hot, like supernova hot.”

  Alice's voice remained heavy, a warning to it. “Kyle and Crash are very different people. Tess, you know Crash's reputation. The things I've heard about him from Kyle. He's not someone you want to know, trust me.”

  My interest was way too piqued to leave it at that.

  “What's wrong with Crash? He's always seemed really nice to me.”

  Alice went silent for a moment, thinking.

  “There are things about him that you wouldn't even want to know. He's very much his fathers son, let's put it that way.”

  His fathers son. What the hell did that mean? I'd never met his father, I had no idea what he was like. I looked over at Lexi, her eyes pricking up. It appeared she probably knew what Alice was talking about.

  “What do you mean though?” I asked. I couldn't lay this one to rest. “What did his father do?”

  “Think about it Elle. Look at the sort of businesses his father built. Casino's, bars, strip clubs. They deal in vice. You know what happens in that sort of world.”

  “What, like murder.” I said it quickly, without thinking.

  Alice's expression changed immediately, her eyes dropping a little, her face losing some of its color. She nodded, her tone now completely dry. “Probably, yeah.”

  I sensed a deep turmoil raging inside her, like she was battling some deepset guilt or something. She clearly wasn't letting on all she knew.

  “Charles Logan was a horrible man,” she said quietly, “and Crash is no different.”

  The table went silent. What had started as a friendly natter and gossip had descended into some sort of serious drama, one I was finding myself increasingly embroiled in.

  Alice seemed to have a deep resentment towards Crash's father
and Crash himself, and I had a good idea of why that was the case.

  From what Lexi had revealed to me, Mr Logan had been the stumbling block in the way of her and Kyle getting together. He'd ruled with an iron fist, or so she said, and Alice probably hated him for it.

  The rule had been passed to Crash, and now he was the one causing them problems. He looked to be carrying on in his fathers stead, keeping Kyle working at the strip club, not giving their relationship his blessing.

  For Alice, the eldest males in the Logan clan had always been a thorn in her side. Kyle was next in line and, the way she spoke, if Crash died I doubt she'd shed a tear.

  In fact, she'd probably welcome it.

  Chapter 13 - Crash

  Crash

  The office I stood in wasn't the type I was used to. It wasn't the sort of building I was used to. It wasn't the sort of business I was used to.

  The man standing ahead of me, however, was the sort of man I had dealt with many times before. He was a very rich man, the sort of man my father had done business with often. Over the last few years I'd often be at his side as he groomed me to be his successor.

  I never expected to take up the mantle so soon.

  I'd also seen men like this at my casino. Men like him turned up often for high-roller games: poker and roulette and blackjack on private tables away from the main casino floor. The pots at those games would often run into the millions, and were a big moneymaker for us.

  But the situation I found myself in now was entirely new to me. I never expected to be in a position like this at only 27 years old. That fact alone had made it hard for me to convince the investors to move forwards with my plan.

  But move forward they did.

  The office I stood in was huge and grand. Too much space and barely anything to fill it. There was an area of comfortable chairs and a coffee table to one side of the door as I entered. Ahead of me, a good 15 meters of open space from the door, was a large wooden desk, a man sitting behind it, cigar clenched between his teeth.

 

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