I Love You, I Hate You Part 2 A second Chance Romance (Broken Love Book 3)

by Bailey B

  “I should have known you needed me for something.” Danika rolls her eyes and steps inside again to grab her purse and keys.

  I carry Molly down the steps and wait beside Danika’s Explorer. I like that she has a bigger car, up off the ground. Bigger is always safer, I just wish it was newer. Danika clicks the unlock button of her car from the porch. I open the passenger door and buckle Molly into her safety seat. “All set, pretty girl.”

  Molly beams up at me and I don’t know how I’ve survived the past four years without her. She changes everything. I don’t wake up feeling dead anymore, needing my Sprite tinged vodka to warm my insides. I threw that shit away the day they moved back. I know Danika, if she ever caught me with a hint of alcohol on my breath she’d keep me from Molly; and she’s not stupid enough to fall for my mint gum trick.

  Do I still like to have a drink? Of course, but now it’s one or two at night. After my shift. More importantly, after I see my girls.

  This feeling of completeness could have something to do with Danika being back and getting to see her almost everyday when I come over to visit Molly, but I’d rather attribute it to my daughter.

  I close her door and slip into the front passenger seat. Danika turns the key in the ignition and glares at me. She’s pretending to be irritated, but I know she’s happy to be coming with us. “Where to?”

  “Head down town to Aimee’s. It doesn’t get busy until about ten, after church lets out. We should have the place to ourselves.”

  Danika’s brakes squeal as she backs out of the driveway. Molly cries, covering her ears until we’ve changed gears and the sound is gone. Well, that sound is gone. Her engine has an unsettling rattle. “Is it in the same spot it was back in high school?”

  “When was the last time you had this thing serviced?” I lean my arm onto the center console and peer at the gauges. Her odometer has over a hundred thousand miles on it. I sit back in my seat, thinking about how unsafe this was to drive all the way from Georgia.

  “I don’t know.” Danika huffs. “A few months ago? I think.”

  She slows, going over a speed bump and her engine thunks, literally hitting the hood. I rub the back of my neck, trying hard not to sound like a dick. “Your motor mounts are shot.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know,” she says, pulling into a parking space.

  Knowing better than to push the topic, I let it go. For now. I get out and open the back passenger door. Molly is fumbling with her safety harness, trying to push the button to be released. She looks up at me, a big crooked grin that mirrors mine, then signs something with her hands.

  “Help?” I ask her. Molly nods and waits. I shake my finger at her. “Can you say help?”

  Molly frowns and looks down at her hands. “H… h….p.” She shakes her head.

  “Good job, baby. That was really good.” I press the red buckle of the five-point harness. Molly looks up at me with tear-filled eyes. I remember that struggle. The inability to find the sounds needed. The horrible feeling of failure that swallows you whole and makes you not want to try again. I hold my arms out, pick Molly up, and squeeze her tight. “It’s not easy, but you’re doing great, baby girl. Don't give up.”

  Molly nods against my shoulder, keeping her head hidden.

  “She okay? Danika asks, rounding the back of her vehicle.

  “She’s fine. Just hungry.” I pat the back of Molly’s back, trying to push my own confidence into her. “Right, baby girl?”

  Molly keeps her face hidden but gives us a thumbs up.

  Inside, the hostess sits us at my usual booth. I come here most mornings to grab a coffee. I’d rather support Ms. Aimee than a franchise. As expected, there are only two other patrons this early. Our breakfast comes within ten minutes of ordering, not leaving much time for idle chatter. Which is fine because Danika isn’t in much of a talking mood. Before I know it, we’re back in her clunker headed home.

  “That was,” she pauses, yielding at a three-way stop, “nice. Thank you.”

  “We could make it a thing, you know.” My knee-jerk reaction almost had me saying anytime, but I know Danika. If I don’t specifically say that I want to do this again, it won’t happen.

  “Make what a thing?”

  We pass by our old neighborhood and she doesn’t even look that way. The pit in my stomach twists, bringing back the urge to reach for a drink, but I ignore it. I may not have quit cold-turkey, but I quit the part that counts—the part that made me dependent. Even though I’ve been doing great the past few weeks, every now and then that urge comes back to haunt me and the monkey on my back starts complaining. “Did you know that Mom does a family dinner every Sunday?”

  “Funny, no one told me.” Danika says this like it’s anything but funny. I’m surprised Walter hasn’t invited them yet. Then again, he may be more pissed off at Danika for hiding his grandkid than he lets on.

  “I think I was supposed to,” I say, trying not to add more rips to the broken relationship she has with her dad. “Sorry, I try not to go as often as possible.”

  Molly screams from the back seat. Danika sighs and looks up at her through the rearview mirror. “She dropped her doll.”

  “I got it.” I twist in my seat and grab the toy that’s fallen past her feet. As soon as it’s back in her hands, Molly stops screaming and goes back to playing. “Does that happen often?”

  Danika nods. “It was worse at school, when she went. Most days she could only stay until noon, then Nona or I would have to go get her.”

  A twinge of guilt rears its ugly face. I don’t have my grandparents. Both sets died when I was a kid. I wish I didn’t have to rip them apart. “How is your Nona?”

  Danika’s brakes squeal again as she pulls into the driveway. Molly covers her ears but doesn’t scream because the sound doesn’t last nearly as long as it did backing out. “She’s good. Misses us.”

  “That’s good.” I nod. Danika doesn’t turn the car off, so I don’t move to get out yet. I want to stretch our time together as long as possible. Once I get out of the car, I’ll have to go home to an empty house again. I’d rather be here.

  “We could do this again next Sunday,” she says. “Unless that’s too much family in one day for you.”

  I lick my lips, fighting the smile that’s tugging with the might of Thor. “We’re a family?”

  Danika sighs and looks over her shoulder. Molly’s playing gleefully, without a care in the world. “Yeah,” she continues. “We’re all kinds of broken.” She turns her gaze back to me, looking me dead in the eye. “But I guess we are.”

  26

  Danika

  I press the rim of my bottle to my lips and take a sip. I’m already in a pissy mood.Travis ended up asking me on another date, one I wasn’t too keen on accepting until I remembered that I told Logan we were going out again. And what happened? The jerk made me take an Uber across town to this shithole of a bar just to stand me up! And of course, Logan has to show up, seeing me in all my pathetic glory.

  He pulls the stool beside me back. “I never pictured you to be a dive bar kind of girl.”

  “What are you doing?”

  Logan shrugs and flashes me that crooked grin, the one that sends a jolt of heat through me. “Call me crazy, but a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be sitting alone at a bar. There’s a lot of weirdos out there.” He winks and points a finger to himself.

  I roll my eyes and finish the last of my cider then set the empty bottle on the bar. “You hate me. Remember?”

  I don't think Logan hates me anymore, but it’s easier to fight my feelings if I pretend that he does.

  The smile falls from Logan’s face. He turns towards the bartender and holds up two fingers. The guy behind the counter hands me another cider and Logan a beer. “I don’t hate you, Danika. I tried to for years, but the feeling never stuck.”

  “Oh.” I grab the cider he’s bought for me and take a sip. Heat climbs my neck, tinging my cheeks red. Hearing him say those wo
rds out loud sends a ripple of goosebumps down my arms. I gulp down half the bottle, using my spinning head as a distraction from the feelings I don’t want to deal with.

  “I do, however, hate what you did with Molly.”

  There it is. I set my drink down and suck in a fresh breath of air. I pull a ten dollar bill from my purse and set it on the counter. My cider couldn’t have been more than three or four dollars. That should cover both of them and a tip. For a split second I thought we could do this, hang out, but of course the past has to rear its ugly head and ruin everything.

  Logan reaches for my wrist as I stand. It doesn’t matter that my skin tingles with his touch. We’re obviously not at a point where we can hang out as friends. “Where are you going?”

  “Home.” I glare at that pretty face and notice him wince from the bite in my tone. I don’t mean to be bitter. He does that to me; brings out my best and worst qualities.

  “I’m sorry,” Logan pleads. “Please don’t leave. I’m out having a celebratory drink and it’s far less pathetic if I’m not by myself.”

  Reluctantly, I take my seat again because I’m a sucker for Logan. Never able to push him away or say no. Why do first loves have such power over you? “One drink.”

  He reaches for his beer again, a grin the size of Texas on his face. “It’s more than I thought I’d get.”

  Logan picks up my ten dollar bill and shoves it in my open purse. Needles travel up my spine and throughout my body. I grab my cider and take two big swallows before coming up for air. He and I may have been near each other the past few weeks, but we haven’t been this close since the wedding. I’m going to need something more than a cider to ignore how he makes me feel. “What are we celebrating?”

  Logan signals the bartender again who meanders over to us. We’re the only people in the bar but he takes an eternity. You’d think the guy would be eager to make some money. Apparently mot. The dude leans against the back counter and crosses his arms. “I know your bitch ass ain’t done with that beer already.”

  I arch a brow, my gaze flicking between both men. I figured Logan must come here often, considering the dude knew which beer to bring without being told. Now I know it.

  “Shots. The lady and I would like a round of shots.”

  “Travis won’t like you poaching his girl,” the bartender says, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “I already brought her one drink on your tab. Two is crossing the line.”

  Logan chuckles and takes another swig of his beer. “Travis can suck a dick. Danika was mine long before he set eyes on her.”

  I roll my eyes oddly thrilled to hear Logan call me his again. “I’m right here. I can hear you.”

  The bartender drops his arms. “I’ll get her a drink and I’ll get you a drink, but if anyone asks I did not let you buy her a drink. Travis likes this one and I don’t want him siccing Bane on my ass.”

  Logan grins and pulls out his phone. He dials Crazy Mother Fucker then puts the call on speaker and lays his phone on the counter. It rings a handful of times before a gruff voice says, “This better be worth it, Harris.”

  “Bane, I’m at McGillicuddy's but the bartender is too chicken shit to serve me and my girl a drink.” Logan’s smirk is devious. Images of him on the football field flicker through my mind. I hope we aren’t gearing up for a fight.

  “For fuck’s sake, Logan,” the speaker growls. “Whose bitch are you chasing?”

  “Don’t fucking call her a bitch!”

  “Hey, Bane.” I say over Logan’s snarl, ignoring the butterflies swarming inside me. “It’s Danika. Travis stood me up tonight and Logan seems to want to be my savior.”

  Bane chuckles through the phone and Logan’s face lights up. “That sorry motherfucker doesn’t know what he lost. I’ll deal with Travis. Have fun, you two.”

  The call ends and Logan smirks triumphantly. The bartender shakes his head, defeated. “You’ve got friends in low places, officer.” He glares at Logan, and, for reasons I can’t fathom, he looks angry.

  “Bane and I have history that predates anything you know about me.” Logan’s expression hardens. “Now, I’d like two Lemondrops. Please.”

  The bartender grumbles and slides two yellow shots across the counter. Logan takes one for himself then hands me the other. We raise our tiny glasses in touch-less cheers. The drink is sweet and sour all at once and surprisingly tastes exactly like a lemon drop candy. “Oh, my goodness. That was amazing!”

  “Want another?” Logan’s lips twitch with amusement.

  Maybe it’s the shot or the two beers before, but I’m not ready to leave anymore. “You don’t mind?”

  “You’re the one who said one drink. ” He holds up two fingers again and the dude behind the bar starts pouring another round. This time without protest.

  “You never answered my question. What are we celebrating?”

  Logan hands me another tiny glass but doesn’t wait for me to shoot his down. “Do you remember Dr. Shaffer?”

  I swallow my shot and lick my lips, looking for any lingering traces. “How could I forget?”

  “His trial ended today.”

  I sit up straighter, waiting for Logan to elaborate. I used to follow the trial religiously, growing increasingly more frustrated with each recess and delay. Each time Logan’s dad asked for more time, another kid came forward.

  Alan Shaffer had been molesting kids for almost ten years before Logan forced him out of business. The oldest to press charges was thirty-two and the youngest was fifteen. Fifteen. Meaning the boy was a fucking toddler when that man started touching him. Disgusting. “Annnnd?”

  “He got life without parole.”

  I set my empty shot glass on the counter and throw my arms around Logan’s neck. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me so close that I almost fall off my stool. I pull back and look up into his dark eyes that finally seem to have a little life in them. For the first time since seeing Logan at our parents wedding, he doesn’t look drained. “We should toast, to that prick becoming someone’s prison bitch.”

  Logan chuckles as the bartender hands us two more. Logan clinks his tiny glass with mine and we both swallow our shots. The sweet-sour mixture feels like lava going down my throat, heat spreading throughout my body as it goes. “Another?”

  Logan sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and grins. “Sure, but since we’ve already broken your one drink rule, how about we go somewhere else?”

  I cross my legs, letting the hem of my dress creep up my thigh. Those shots are hitting me hard, but in a good way. I feel light and find the smile tugging on my lips won’t go away. I lean my elbow on the bar top, giving Logan an eye full of cleavage. “Where did you have in mind?”

  27

  Logan

  Having Danika in my car again is surreal. True, this might not be the exact car I had in high school, but it’s all the same. Danika leans forward, fiddling with the radio until she finds a song she likes then leans back against the seat and closes her eyes. She rolls her head to the side, her long bangs splaying across her face. She blows a tuft of air at the strands twice then gives up and moves them aside with her fingers. “So what kind of stuff are you listening to these days?”

  I use my phone’s face recognition to unlock it, then open my music app. Finding the playlist titled Evil Cunt, I toss the phone in her lap. “The radio or everything on that playlist.”

  “Evil Cunt?” She chuckles. “Is this based on anyone I know?”

  My cheeks heat from embarrassment. No one knows about that playlist. It’s what grounds me, keeps me sane on my darkest of days. “You could say that.”

  Danika scrolls through the long list of songs. Each one a nod to a specific moment we shared. Some songs are upbeat. Some are ballads. And some are the heavy metal I-love-you-I-hate-you type. Her lips stretch into the biggest smile I’ve seen as she looks up at me with her big Bambi eyes. She gasps, “No”

  “Yes?” I don’t know which song she’s foun
d, but I’m about to. Danika leans forward and presses the Sync button on my radio. My phone wirelessly streams and I know which song she’s picked from the first note played.

  “I freaking love this song.” Danika closes her eyes and reclines her seat back. Her head bobs along with the first verse and when the chorus sings she whispers, “I’m only me because of you.”

  I grip the steering wheel, letting the memories wash over me. High school was a long time ago, but no one has made my heart beat the way it does when we’re together. This feeling, being with her, is like coming home after a long day’s work. She is my home.

  “Where are we going?” Danika asks when the song ends.

  “A joint called The Rusted Nail.”

  “Never heard of it.”

  “We have about fifteen more minutes before we get there.” Another song plays out, silence stretching between us. The air in the car has shifted, thickened since hearing Because of You. “Where is Molly tonight?”

  “With our parents.”

  “You trusted my mom with her?” I sneak a glance at Danika from the corner of my eye. Danika hates my mother more than I hate broccoli. “I’m impressed.”

  She tucks her hair behind her ears then crosses her arms. “My dad’s off tonight, he’ll keep Molly safe.”

  Now it all makes sense. That girl would rather die a thousand deaths than leave Molly alone with mom. “Come on, Dani. Mom’s not that bad.”

  “Tessa ignored your abuse for years, Logan. Years. How can I ever trust her with our daughter?”

  There’s no sense in arguing. If Tessa wasn’t my mother, I’d probably feel the same way. Instead, I hold my hand out palm up, half expecting the gesture to be ignored, but Danika laces her fingers with mine. The everyday pressure of life I live with lifts from my chest. For the first time in a long time, I don’t want a drink. I want to dance and make this night last as long as possible, remembering every detail. “You called Molly our daughter.”