The Logan Brothers - Books 1-4: (EXPOSURE, CRASH, TWIN PASSIONS, and ADDICTED TO YOU)

by Shorter, L. A.

  I looked desperately down the street but couldn't see him. Where had he gone?

  I ran the way he'd turned, sprinting off and looking for side streets he might have turned down. The street was empty. I couldn't see anyone.

  Then, suddenly, I heard tires screeching as a car came shooting out of an alley just ahead of me. I could see the hooded figure inside, hunched over the wheel as the vehicle roared away from me. I ran, gaining on it briefly, but it soon picked up speed, gradually stretching further away from me down the road.

  “DAMN IT!” I roared.

  I'd lost him. He was gone.

  Chapter 22

  Present Day

  Cade

  I'd never ached so badly as I did the morning I woke up after my fight with Agulla. That guy had battered me for over 3 rounds before I finally managed to make things happen. I'd gone through 12 rounds with guys without feeling these sorts of effects afterwards. But then, I guess, this guy was second in line for a title shot for a reason.

  I knew, despite my win, that that wouldn't change. I wouldn't just usurp his position and suddenly become the second contender. No, that wasn't how things worked.

  I would have made a real mark on the major promoters, though. It wasn't just the fact that I'd taken the guy down in style: it was the fact that the people loved me, I had a cult following, and my own star power was beginning to grow. Promoters wanted more than just good fighters. They wanted drama, they wanted real animosity between two fighters. That's what sold tickets, that's what drew in the biggest crowds. I could deliver that, and, yes, I'd attract more women to the sport as well. That wasn't something that promoters would overlook.

  It should have been the greatest night of my life afterwards, but that fucking betraying cunt, Zack, ruined it all. The way he sat there, denying the proof in front of him, was pathetic. He'd been sneaking around behind my back with my girlfriend, lying to me every step of the way. It made me sick just thinking about it all.

  I tried not to care that Gemma dumped me. Why should I? Why should I give a fuck about someone who'd treat me like that, who'd lie to me through their teeth and play me off against my own twin brother.

  They were both as bad as each other.

  It wasn't until after she'd left that I'd checked my phone. I had so many messages of congratulations from people that I almost missed the one that really mattered. When I opened it up to see a picture of them kissing I almost crushed the phone I was squeezing so tight. I didn't know who sent it to me. Frankly, I didn't care. All I wanted to do was punish Zack, and showing him up for what he was in front of everyone was the perfect way to do it.

  Now I was lying in bed, some random girl draped over me. At least now I could fuck other girls. I could really take advantage of my name, my power. Fuck Gemma and fuck Zack. They're both dead to me now.

  It was late afternoon and my head had only just stopped spinning. God knows when I eventually got to bed; God knows when I got to sleep. I couldn't remember a thing, and had no idea who this chick was, lying on my cock.

  I heard a beep and reached for my phone. I didn't recognize the number. I opened up the text message and my heart began pounding again. My breathing was rising, my body beginning to tremble with anger. The girl on me began to stir and looked up at me with a smile.

  “Heyyy baby,” she said with this southern drawl, “what a night, huh.”

  I didn't look at her. I just looked straight at my phone.

  “Are you OK?” she continued, her voice growing concerned, “you look kinda freaky.”

  “Get out,” I said calmly.

  She giggled. “What?”

  “GET OUT!” I roared.

  She jumped immediately to her feet and slid off the bed. “OK, OK, I'm going,” she said, grabbing her clothes and stumbling, naked, out into the living room with a final word of “psycho” as she left.

  My breathing continued to grow short as I stared at the image in front of my eyes, and the caption above it.

  “This morning,” it read. That's all it said, there was nothing else. But there didn't need to be.

  Below it, was another image, this time of Zack and Gemma hugging affectionately outside of her apartment.

  My hand was trembling as I dropped the phone to my bed.

  “He's a fucking dead man. He's dead.”

  ….

  Zack

  Oh God I felt awful.

  Not just hungover and exhausted, but mentally ripped to shreds. I'd had that hooded photographer in my grasp and I'd let him get away. It was my one chance to clear my name and it disappeared down the road in a shitty light blue volvo.

  And now I was at the club, yet another Saturday night about to begin. It was the last place I wanted to be right now. I just wanted to stay in my apartment and take a breather for a few days, but no, duty called.

  It was early evening and the club would open in a couple of hours. I had to go through my usual checks, meeting up with the bar staff and the bouncers and the DJ to make sure they were all ready to go. Soon I'd go off and see out the rest of the night in my office, drowning out the noise of the club with some chilled music and a couple of glasses of whiskey.

  But right now I was outside talking with Brick, my head bouncer, and a couple of other doormen. One of them was new so I needed to set him straight on the way things were run around here. No shit from anyone or they're out. No second chances, but no violence either. I'd seen enough candid videos on the news of bouncers getting a little too physical with unruly customers, and didn't want to get sucked into any sort of legal battle if things went too far. I knew Crash would have my head if that sort of negative attention came down on us.

  “I'm gonna be in my office all night,” I said, “from start to finish. I don't want any fucking disturbances, OK, not unless it's an absolute emergency.”

  “Yes boss,” said Brick.

  I waited for the other two to nod and say the same but their eyes were cast behind me down the street. “Hey, you two,” I said, snapping my finger, “pay attention will you.”

  They both looked at me, but kept glancing down the road. “Err, yes boss.”

  “What the hell is so fascinating?” I asked, turning around and looking down the street.

  Oh shit, here we go.

  Storming down the sidewalk was Cade, this ferocity burning in his eyes. The street was busy as people all looked at him passing, a murmur beginning to grow as they all asked each other the same question: “is that Cade Logan!”

  I could hear people beginning to shout and cheer as he stormed forward towards me.

  Yo, you the man Cade!

  Great win last night Crusher!

  The city's proud of you Cade!

  People were coming and slapping him on the back, trying to get close to touch him, but he kept on marching, taking no notice of them. He looked like he did when he was entering the ring for one of his fights, his eyes set on his opponent. Only this time it wasn't in the ring and I wasn't watching from the outside. This time, the opponent was me.

  I could see his fists clenching as he approached, this madness in his eyes, but I stood my ground. Adrenaline began surging through my body, putting all of my nerves on edge. I stepped back slowly as he got nearer. I could hear Brick behind me: “is everything all right boss?”

  I didn't answer. I didn't have time. Cade didn't stop moving, he just kept storming in and then swung straight at me. I managed to duck away as he stumbled forward past me. He seemed like he was still drunk from the night before, massive dark bags under his eyes.

  A crowd began gathering around us like it was a scrap in the schoolyard. They were chatting excitedly at the thought of seeing their favorite boxer fighting up close.

  “Is that his brother?” I heard someone shout. “That's Zack Logan!”

  I stepped back into the middle of the throng as Cade turned around. I could see Brick looking at me as if to say “what should I do? Should I help?” but I had no time to respond, not even with a look.r />
  I held my hands up to try to calm him down. “Cade, stop, what are you doing?!”

  He moved forward again, this time charging straight at me and grabbing me round the waist. He lifted and twisted, sending me crashing down onto the tarmac on the road to a loud 'oooh' from the crowd.

  I felt the air burst out of my lungs as I hit the ground, my insides burning. He twisted on top of me and began swinging but I managed to get my hands up and defend myself. He was wild, breathing heavily and loudly, acting like a lunatic.

  His weight suddenly shifted off me and I pulled my arms away from my face. I could see Brick dragging him away as he would any regular customer who'd got into a fight. But this was no regular customer.

  Cade roared: “get the fuck off me,” twisting his body out of Brick's grasp. Brick was a giant of a man and could easily handle himself, so wasn't to be intimidated by anyone in a fight.

  Cade pointed his finger at him. “This has got nothing to do with you,” he growled, panting heavily “Stay the fuck out of it.”

  Brick looked again at me as I climbed back to my feet. I nodded at him. Cade was right, this was between me and him.

  He paced towards me again as the crowd continued to gather, getting louder and louder the more people joined the throng.

  “Cade,” I shouted again, “think about what you're doing. Let's go inside and talk.”

  He took no notice of me, as if the words didn't register at all, and ran at me again. I was ready this time, moving just enough to avoid his tackle. His movements were erratic, the complete opposite of the calm and composed guy who fought in the ring.

  He turned around quickly and entered a boxing stance. The crowd cheered as he did so. He moved forward again as I pleaded with him once more. I knew, though, that I was never going to talk any sense into him. Not now, not while he was in this frame of mind.

  He crept forward and swung at me, his fist so quick. I managed to dodge it. He swung again, catching me on the side of the cheek. I felt his knuckles grazing along my face as my head was rocked back slightly.

  He swung once more, but I leaned back, almost tripping backwards and falling over. I stumbled instead, regaining my footing as he moved in towards me. This time I wasn't going to just defend. Fuck him. If he wanted it to be like this, it would be like this. This wasn't a fucking boxing ring, this was streetfighting, and I'd done plenty of that in my time.

  He came in again and swung, still in his boxing stance. I dropped quickly to the ground and grabbed at his leg, tipping it up. He lost his balance quickly and went clattering to the ground. I jumped on top of him, trying to restrain him, but he was too strong, twisting and turning and wriggling out of my grasp like a wet fish.

  He piled into me again, as we wrestled in close contact, his fists trying to punch me in whatever space they could find. He jabbed me hard in the abdomen, punching the air from my gut, and I stumbled back. He was on me on a flash, swinging hard, but I managed to catch him with my own fist on his stitched up eye.

  He clattered to the ground and the crowd gasped at seeing their undefeated champion hit the tarmac. He turned on me, blood now starting to gush out of his re-opened cut, and roared, charging in again and swinging relentlessly. I put my arms up to defend against the barrage, his fists clattering mainly into my forearms.

  His breathing was frantic and erratic as he swung again and again, but he wasn't tiring, wasn't slowing. One of his fists managed to creep through the gate, sliding over my forearm and into my cheek. The blow wasn't like being hit with a boxing glove. It wasn't like being hit when wearing protective headgear.

  No, this with his fist against my face, and the force of it sent my eyes rolling in my head. I'd been in fights before, I'd taken many hits from people before, but not like this. This was on another level.

  I stumbled backwards, the world quickly blurring as my eyes tried to settle again on my opponent. The people in the crowd began to merge, colors slipping and sliding over each other like a painters palette. I tried to focus on Cade as he moved in towards me, stamping forward as the noise in the crowd begun to increase.

  I tried to get my hands up but Cade was too quick, catching me again across the face, this time with a swinging punch that caused me to spin around on the spot and clatter down onto the floor.

  I fell hard, my body dropping like a dead weight, and felt my head crack onto the tarmac. Immediately I could sense people rushing in to help me, the fight having gone too far. My eyes started to darken, flickering wildly as people descended on me to help.

  The last thing I saw, however, before everything went black, was the sight of Cade walking casually away from me through the parting crowd. They backed away, leaving a gap for him to walk through.

  He didn't turn. He didn't try to help. He didn't care.

  Chapter 23

  Present Day

  Gemma

  I spent that weekend closeted away at home. I didn't go outside. I didn't want to see anyone. I didn't even go online or watch the news.

  I wanted to forget everything right now, shut myself off from the world. I knew everyone would be talking about Cade's victory, about his rising star. I didn't want to think about him or see him. I didn't want to face any of it.

  I'd tried calling Zack a few times but he hadn't picked up. The last time I'd seen him, on Saturday morning, he'd gone charging off away from me suddenly, chasing someone down the street. He must have thought it was the person who'd taken our picture the night before in the bar. Since then, however, I hadn't seen or heard from him.

  I wanted to know if he'd caught the person. I wanted to know if he was OK. He'd seemed so low when he came over to my flat, so drained and upset. He probably needed space, like I did, to get things together in his head.

  It was Monday morning now, however, and I had to go to work. I knew people would be talking about Cade and asking about Cade but I'd have to face that at some point. The girls in the office would probably be happy to know that we'd broken up. Every damn girl in the city would find that news to be most welcome.

  When I stepped through the main double doors I already had my defences up. The last time I'd walked into the office on a Monday after Cade's last fight people had only just found out that we were seeing each other. Now they knew, so I had every idea as to what to expect.

  Whispers, glancing looks in my direction, even the odd under-the-breath insult. I'd have to rise above it and ignore them. There was nothing else I could do.

  As I approached my desk I saw that Annie wasn't there. In some strange way I didn't mind that. I loved her but I knew she'd be just as interested in talking about Cade as everyone else. Friend or no friend, I didn't want to talk about it all, it was still too fresh and raw in my mind. All I wanted to do was get my head down and start my day.

  So that's what I did, turning my attention back to the boring, entirely uninspiring job that I was now resigned to. There would be no promotion for me. No, that honor would go to the brown-nose bitch now walking over towards me. She had this snide smile on her face, like she'd beaten me and was getting great pleasure out of it. I wanted to knock the look straight off her.

  We rarely talked, Tara and I, and when we did it was never pleasant. She had this way about her, this skill of picking up on something you were insecure or sensitive about and then probing it. She was like a cat playing with a mouse, cruel and spiteful. Basically, she was Martha Banks junior, a perfect protege for that scheming cow.

  “Hey Gemma,” she said with feigned friendliness, “how was your weekend?” She spoke with an acid tongue, her tone devoid of any genuine interest.

  “Great,” I said flatly. “You?”

  Fuck it. Why did I ask?!

  “Oh, very productive,” she said. “Did you enjoy Cade's fight? You know, the part of it you actually saw?”

  I stopped tapping on my keyboard immediately and looked her straight in the eye for the first time.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Well,” she continued, “yo
u missed most of the fight didn't you....you know, because you were drinking with his twin brother.”

  She smiled at me, this horrible, calculating smile.

  It was her! It was her who took that picture! My heart began pounding, a fury building inside me.

  “You. You saw us? You took the picture and sent it to Cade?” I growled quietly, keen to keep my voice low for want of other people hearing.

  She continued to smile, staring at me through cold eyes.

  “Oh, I did more than just that.”

  “What have you done?!” I snarled again, my eyes widening.

  She didn't answer, but just laughed casually as she looked at me, before slowly turning and walking away.

  I sat, fixed in my seat, my hand shaking, my mind tumbling. She glanced back at me as she went, this provocative smirk etched across her vile face. I saw her move off down the corridor towards Mrs Banks' office, a victorious air about her.

  Oh she'd won the promotion all right. The story, the dramatic story of betrayal that she was working on – it was all about me, all about Cade, all about Zack.

  I stood quickly and stormed off after her, chasing her down as she opened the door to Banks' office and walked through. I moved down the corridor past the secretary, Brenda. She shouted at me as I passed: “you can't go in there, she's busy,” but I didn't listen.

  I walked straight past her, straight towards Martha Banks' office, and straight through the door into her bare, cold, and entirely unemotional office. It was just like her: empty, indifferent, and wholeheartedly cold-blooded.

  ….

  I could feel a warmth growing inside me as I stepped heavily into Martha Banks' office and shut the door. I didn't care to shut it quietly, as I usually would. I almost slammed it shut, sending a loud bang vibrating down the corridor and onto the main office floor.

  People probably looked up from their desks, wondering what was going on, what drama was unfolding, but I didn't care. I had to know what the fuck was going on, and I had to know right now.