His left hand was stroking at my hair as he spoke, trying to calm me down. “Shhhh, it's OK. It's OK, it's all over now, it's finished.”
The emotions were flooding from my body and I couldn't stop them. I looked up into his face. He looked completely drained, his eyes heavy with bags, his skin pale.
“You came for me,” I said again, gazing up at him.
He smiled weakly, grimacing slightly at the pain in his arm. “Of course. I told you I'd always be there to help you and I will. Always.”
I wanted to kiss him, tell him what he meant to me, how much I cared for him, but I couldn't. I was too drained, too physically and emotionally exhausted.
I dropped my head back into his shoulder, resting it on his warm body, my eyes looking down at Brad's body on the floor below.
He hadn't moved, his body lying motionless. I felt a brief urge to rush down and check his pulse, see if he was alive, help him.
But that urge turned to anger as I looked on at him. He'd stalked me, kidnapped me, held me hostage and tried to rape me.
No, he was dead. And he deserved to be dead.
Epilogue
Elle
I stood in the graveyard, the rain trickling down from grey skies onto my black umbrella.
“I wish I'd got to meet him,” I said, looking on at the gravestone.
“So do I. I think he would have liked you.”
“Really?” I asked, turning to Crash.
He smiled. “Of course. How could he not?”
We huddled together under the umbrella and looked at the flowers sat perched up against the white stone.
“I'm gonna make him proud Elle. I know he's looking down on me, on all of us. I'm gonna take this family forward, like he always wanted.”
I smiled up at him, his eyes set forward, a deep longing inside him to impress his father, to do well by his family.
We stood for a moment in silence before turning and slowly walking back towards his car. It had been 3 months now since he'd rescued me from Brad, 3 months since that burden had been lifted from my shoulders forever.
When the ambulance turned up they'd said that he'd died on impact, his neck and spinal column snapped. At least it was a quick death, unlike the life he'd have led in jail, always on his toes, always watching his back. When the dust settled I was happy, at least, that his own torment was over.
The police investigation into the death didn't last long. All the evidence and character reports quickly built a picture of Brad being psychologically unhinged. It turned out that he had suffered from mild schizophrenia and depression for years, but kept it all hidden until our break up.
After that, it had all been released, his mind degenerating further as he turned to narcotics and alcohol to keep the pain at bay. There had been no one there to help him, no close friends to support him through it all, so he turned to the only person he really felt attached to - me.
I felt ashamed by my thoughts at his death. Despite all he'd done to me, I still felt slightly responsible, as if I could have done more to help him, rather than turn my back on him completely. It ate away at me for weeks after, a guilt set deep in my body that I wasn't sure I'd ever fully get over.
Crash took my hand in his as we continued walking through the graveyard. His touch was always reassuring to me now, knowing he'd always be there to protect me.
He stopped suddenly, turning me towards him and kissing me.
His eyes looked deep and emotional, almost like he was welling up, but not quite. No, Crash would never cry.
“There are lots of things about me that you still don't know,” he said, out of the blue.
“And I'm sure there's lots about you that I don't know,” he continued. I wasn't quite sure where he was going with this.
His eyes lost their assuredness as he looked around, suddenly slightly uncomfortable.
“I've never been one for words, um, I guess I'm something of a blunt object...”
He still looked everywhere but into my eyes.
“...I guess what I'm trying to say is that I usually talk through my actions...but some things need to be said.”
I could feel my heart-beat beginning to rise as his eyes eventually found mine.
“What I really want to say is....” he paused again, fighting the words out of his mouth.
“I...love you Elle.”
He looked away again, all of his calm and composure and everything else thrown from the window.
I smiled as I laughed inside. It was a laugh of amusement by the way he said it, but one of elation as well.
I reached up and took his face, pulling it in and kissing it as he often did with me.
“I guess my actions speak louder than words too,” I said, smiling.
He knew I felt the same.
TWIN PASSIONS (Book 3)
Prologue
9 Years Ago
Gemma
The cool air swept through my hair as I sat on the log down by the water's edge. It was silent there, all except the light rustling of leaves and the croaking of frogs. The boisterous noise of kids chattering and laughing had drained away now, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I looked out over the lake, sparkling and shimmering under the light of the full moon. The ripples grew and faded away with the breeze, catching the light as they sped along the surface of the water. Up above, the stars were as bright as I'd ever seen them, unhindered by smog and smoke and pollution. Here it was so clean, so pure, so quiet.
It wasn't what I was used to.
I'd just moved to Montana from New York and had never experienced such absolute silence, such tranquility. It was strangely unnerving, but it was what I craved right now.
There was a party going on in the large main cabin in the middle of our camp: a welcome party to start this week long trip. It was some sort of end of summer trip before starting high school. Trouble was, everyone knew each other and I had only just moved there.
I felt totally left out and totally alone. I knew it would be like this. I'd begged my stupid parents not to make me go.
“Daddy, can't I just start school normally in two weeks? Please don't make me go on that trip.”
My pleads had fallen on deaf ears. They just wanted to get away for their own late summer vacation and saw it as a great chance to get rid of me for the week.
“Gemma, it'll be good for you. It will give you a chance to get to know the other kids before you start at your new high school.”
Yeah right. Stupid selfish parents. I knew they just wanted me out of the way.
I felt so alone sitting on that hard log. As I'd feared, everyone had jumped into each others arms and starting chattering immediately about their amazing vacations and everything that they'd been doing over the summer. Barely anyone took notice of me, and I was too shy to try to introduce myself to them. It was hell.
Then the worst thing of all happened.
One of the teachers calmed everyone down and stood me up in front of my entire year. She made me introduce myself and talk about where I'd come from; about my life; about my family.
I had never been so nervous or felt so stupid. I could feel my cheeks beginning to burn and redden. I could see the smirks and looks of amusement in the crowd. I could hear the chattering and stifled giggles as I hung my head and mumbled a few cracked and nervous words.
Damn that stupid teacher for making me do that.
It wasn't long after my public humiliation that I'd decided to run off out of the large open cabin and into the cool night air. I needed to get away from all the prying eyes and whispering voices.
So I ran.
I ran away towards the lake where we'd be swimming and boating the next day. I felt this huge urge to keep going, rush away into the woods and somehow make my way back home. I'd get lost. I'd probably get eaten by a bea
r. But I didn't care. Somehow anything was better than going back and facing all those staring faces.
“Are you OK?”
I jumped at the sound of the voice behind me and turned quickly.
A boy stood there, his hair dark and unkempt, a look of compassion on his face. His eyes were shining green in the glowing moonlight, his face so clean cut and free of the spots and acne that many of the others kids were engulfed by.
“It's horrible, isn't it?” he continued as I stared on at him, a mixture of confusion and surprise dominating my expression. “ You know, being the new kid...”
I nodded sheepishly.
He crept in closer towards me and reached out his hand. “My names Zack,” he said with a smile.
I could feel a slight blush reappearing on my face as I reached out my hand and took his. His touch was soft and warm in the cool night.
“Gemma,” I said, slightly nervously. I still hadn't really learned to talk to boys properly.
He winked at me. “I know. Do you mind if I sit?”
I nodded again and he rounded the side of the log and sat beside me, closer than I was comfortable with.
“It's beautiful here isn't it?” he said. His voice was buoyant and full of confidence. He seemed so much older than me but I knew he was just starting high school as I was. “I guess it's a far cry from New York. That's where you grew up, right?”
I kept looking out over the water, my head slightly hung. “Yeah. You must have been the only person actually listening. Everyone else was laughing.”
He giggled lightly, the sound disturbing the silent night and echoing quietly across the lake.“I guess they're all just excited to see each other again. Anyway, half of them would have been just as nervous as you going up in front of everyone.”
Somehow I got the impression that Zack wasn't one of them.
“Was it that obvious? Me being nervous?” The hurt and embarrassment in my voice must have been clear.
I could see his head turn to me out of the corner of my eye. He hesitated, his expression growing more serious. “Not really, no. Look, don't worry about it. I'll introduce you around, OK?”
I cranked my head slowly to the left and caught his eyes. A light flutter rushed up through my body.
“Thanks,” I said, tentatively meeting his gaze.
I turned my head quickly back towards the water as it sparkled and swayed in the gentle breeze. I felt weirdly comforted by Zack's presence. He was the only one who had ventured to talk to me so far. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad starting at this new school after all.
“So tell me about home,” he said, turning back to the twinkling lake. “It's just me now, no one else. I want to hear about it. I've never been to New York.”
I glanced at him again, his green eyes cast into the middle distance, and started speaking. For the next hour we spoke, talking about home, about family, about everything else in between. It was the longest I'd ever spoken to a boy, and this boy was gorgeous. I felt invigorated, like I was a different person. Maybe they weren't quite so scary after all.
I grew more and more comfortable the longer we spoke, the both of us forgetting about the party a few hundred feet behind us. Every now and then I'd hear a bit of extra loud chatter drift towards us from the lights of the camp but Zack never turned. He just kept speaking or listening, whatever it was, and kept his eyes on me or out onto the water or the dark silhouettes of the trees in the distance.
A chill began to descend as the minutes moved by, causing me to shiver lightly. He suggested we take a walk to warm us up and I didn't argue against it. I wanted to stay longer from the party. I wanted to stay longer with him. Just him.
We walked through light woods without a flashlight. The warm glow of the moon made one largely redundant, lighting our path as we crept over twigs and debris fallen from the trees above.
I asked of bears and other animals, a fear growing in me that we'd suddenly be set upon by some form of wildlife I'd only ever seen on TV, but he put my mind to rest. He told me he'd spent his entire life in Montana and knew this place well, having come up here on several school trips and other family vacations in the past.
He was the complete opposite of me: confident, self assured, and seemingly fearless. I felt immediately attached to him.
We circled the camp, moving up through the woods surrounding it and back down towards the shore of the lake. The party kept going inside the ring of smaller cabins that would act as dorms for the next week. Suddenly the idea of being there didn't seem so alarming. Suddenly the idea of starting a new school was less scary.
I could hear party games going on, organized by the teachers, as cheers and laughs erupted from the main cabin. It sounded like everyone was having a blast, the time of their lives. I asked Zack if he wanted to go and rejoin his friends. He told me he was having a better time with me.
We moved back to the lake and stopped on the shore. Our sneakers came off and we tiptoed into the cold water, lapping against the pebbles. We splashed and played as we waded further in, the cold water gradually growing warmer against our skin the more we thrashed.
I felt Zack's hand reaching for mine as I prepared to splash him once more. He was suddenly still in the surf, his eyes set on me. He was looking at me like I'd never been looked at, a smile lighting up his face. I could feel my breath begin to hold firm in my body as he leaned in closer towards me.
I instinctively leant back a fraction but he kept forward. From nowhere his lips touched mine, soft and warm, as a shot of electricity pulsed through my body. I was drawn back forward by this energy as we stood in the cold water, his hand still clasping mine.
It lasted only a second or two but it felt like hours. When he pulled back, a smile once more began to grow on his face. My mind was swimming like I was, the world blurred.
It was a beautiful blur, an electrifying blur, a blur brought on by a new experience.
My first kiss.
Chapter 1
Present Day
Gemma
I could feel the energy beginning to build inside the arena as I approached down the corridor towards two large double doors. Well, arena might be too strong a word. This place was more of an underground bunker, a large hollowed out space where people would gather to watch men box.
It was Friday night and something I was used to. It wasn't really by choice that I was there. Boxing wasn't exactly something I enjoyed, but then, I had to support my man.
He told me I was his lucky charm, that every time I was there watching him he'd win, and win well. I gave him confidence, he said. My eyes on him made him unbeatable, unwavering in the face of his opponent. Honestly, I had no idea what he was talking about, but if it worked, it worked, and I wasn't going to argue.
I paced quickly down the corridor as the beating noise of the crowd beyond the doors began to fade. Then an announcer started speaking, loud over a microphone, his voice booming through the doors.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are just one fight away from our main event for the night. But first, be upstanding for our penultimate bout. In the red corner, weighing in at a lean and mean 165 pounds, put your hands together for Randy Marchiano!”
The crowd roared to life again, applause and cheers beating down the corridor towards me as I continued my approach.
The announcer then spoke again, introducing the other fighter as Gabriel Ortega to an even greater barrage of noise.
I breathed a heavy sigh of relief as I rushed down to the entrance. I hadn't missed it. Thank God I hadn't missed it.
A wall of noise hit me as I burst through the doors, the bell just sounding for the first round. I was met with a familiar sight: the large open space was filled with people, with seating stretching out from the ring in the center. Up above were numerous lights, shining down onto the ring, with large posters and banners set up around the walls.
The bouts were officially sanctioned, often even televised for a local TV audience in town. This place was a stepping stone for
those fighters looking to climb the ladder right to the top, up to the various world championship belts that I'd been told about but failed to properly take in.
When they weren't televised, each fight was called on the radio by a local sports station. They became hugely popular among the local population in the city of Branton. If you couldn't come down and watch the fights in person, you'd be sure to be listening to them on the radio. Several bars in town would even play the fights over the radio on Friday nights.
I didn't get it, despite my proximity to the action. Boxing didn't appeal to me at all, and I couldn't understand everyone's fascination with it all. Even now, looking out over the crowd, I could see a host of young people, not only young guys, but girls as well, all standing and cheering.
I knew why many of them came. They came for the same reason as me. They came to watch him fight.
….
I stood at the back, watching for a moment as the action began to unfold. It sounded like Ortega had the majority of the crowd on his side, and made use of their support with the odd wave and gesture as he danced around his opponent.
My eyes searched along the front row, my heart-rate beginning to rise gradually as I looked for my seat. I was never entirely sure who'd be there, but at least two of the Logan boys would generally turn up, sometimes with their girlfriends in tow, sometimes alone.
As my eyes trailed over the baying crowd I caught sight of a couple of young men, both tall and strong, standing and shaking their fists as Ortega landed a series of devastating blows. They were the two eldest Logan brothers, Crash and Kyle, and they appeared to be alone.
A mixed feeling of relief and disappointment filled me up. He wasn't there.
I walked down through the gap in the crowd towards the ring and over towards the boys. They barely seemed to notice me as I approached the spare seat next to Crash, the both of them with blazing eyes set firm on the fight only feet in front of us. The roar of the crowd was deafening as Ortega landed his final blows, sending his opponent crashing down onto the canvas. The ref raised his hand and the tumult grew louder, my eardrums splitting at the shrieks and cries and roars around me.
The Logan Brothers - Books 1-4: (EXPOSURE, CRASH, TWIN PASSIONS, and ADDICTED TO YOU) Page 36