3
Logan
“We’re going to have to figure this shit out.” Quill’s voice brings me out of my thoughts. “We need to think.”
“We? I don’t believe you know how to think. Let the adult work out the plan, okay?”
He scowls at me. “I do know how to think, when it comes to Piper.”
“Uh huh.” I close my eyes, trying to ignore him. The plane touches down in less than thirty minutes, and throughout the more than six hours of flight, I have not in fact thought of a single plan.
I’ve been far too busy suffering.
“You can’t just go off to meet the impersonator yourself,” he insists.
“Whoever it is won’t show themselves to you.
Anyway, I think Fake Lia is weak, or she wouldn’t go through the trouble of trying to ambush Piper.
There’s no risk in letting her get what she wants… at first. She can meet with Piper.”
“You can’t seriously be suggesting that I let my daughter walk into that trap alone,” I say in exasperation.
“It’s not a trap,” Piper insists, from her position that seems to have become permanent on Quill’s lap.
“Shh, cricket,” he murmurs, putting his palm back on her mouth, where it also seems to have spent a lot of time.
Now, though, she struggles away from it.
“Quill,” she huffs, “you’re being controlling. You can’t just shut me up like that. I’m not a doll. And I have things to say.”
“I like hearing you say things,” he tells her, drawing circles on her back and speaking in a voice I can tell he believes is placating. “I just don’t like listening to what you say.”
“Quill!”
“I mean…” I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone try or fail so hard at getting out of the dog house as him. “I’m interested in you, but I’m not that interested in what you have to say.”
“That’s so mean!”
“I’m not trying to be mean,” he soothes her—or attempts to. “I like your voice. It’s cute. But please be quiet now, because this is important.”
She crosses her arms and glares at him. “You’re being toxic, and…”
“Okay, cricket, that’s fine. Everything’s fine, okay? I love you so much.” He turns to me. “Should I shut her in the bedroom in the back or—”
By now, I’m shaking with silent laughter. Thank god for the two of them and their adorably dysfunctional relationship, because it does lighten the mood.
“I like your boyfriend,” I tell Piper. “Or husband, or whatever. A nice little psychopath you’ve got there.” Then I look at Quill. “Yeah, shut her in the bedroom.”
“Logan! Quill! No!”
Quill has just stood up with Piper in his arms.
“Unless she can behave,” I add, and if looks could kill, hers would… very lightly sting.
“I’m not a child,” she says, sounding exactly like Lia.
I swallow the lump that’s made its way back in my throat. “That’s right,” I try to say casually. “You’re a very foolish young woman. Now let the grown-ups talk.”
“Oh, so he’s a grown-up now?” she questions, and at that, Quill topples her over his shoulder, and stalks off to the bedroom, despite her loud squeaks of protests. I hear a few resounding smacks, and then… some other noises. At last he returns, looking very pleased with himself.
I roll my eyes. “Remember, Quill, I am her father. I mean, in a manner of speaking. And those walls…”
“Okay.” He sits down, meeting my eyes without the least bit of shame.
“Also, we now have less than ten minutes—the quickie could have been a bit quicker. We need to figure this out.”
“I thought you needed to,” he points out. “You seemed to believe I didn’t know how to think.”
“Well, I’m the one who can’t think now,” I snap. “You were right. If I walk into whatever ambush the impersonator has laid, any chance of finding out who it is vanishes. But I just can’t let Piper go alone.”
“Who said anything about going alone? Five feet of separation is about all I can stand. And only because Piper’s been well-spanked, well-fucked, and is now nicely locked up and waiting for me.”
“TMI, Quill. Seriously.”
He shrugs. “You seem to think I dislike you because you’re her dad. But it’s the opposite. I like that you’re her dad. You know, the first time we ever had sex was under the covers with her dad in the room. I mean, her fake dad. And…”
I decide to ignore most of what he’s said, aware that he’s only trying to rile me up.
Instead, I settle on, “Laura Day was her real mom, and her husband, William Day, was her real dad.” The thought makes me wince, but it’s true. “He raised her. He’s just as much her father as I am.”
Probably more, I think with a pang of crippling guilt.
“Well, good.” Quill settles back in his seat. “I’m glad I fucked her in front of her real dad, then. And now I can fuck her in front of—”
I stand up, walking to the bathroom and slamming the door behind me to drown out the rest of his words. Then I splash cold water on my face and stare at myself in the mirror. A ghost stares back.
I didn’t sleep the night after Piper told me about being contacted by Lia’s impersonator. My face is pale as death, I’ve got bags under my eyes, and my features are drawn. I look far older than thirty-eight, nearly thirty-nine now.
The last time I saw her, I was twenty.
I’ve been struggling with her death for nearly half my life. Every year just makes the wound grow. It’s festering now, consuming me.
But what if she’s not dead? What if she’s alive?
I can’t think anymore. Everything is foggy. I lean against the wall, closing my eyes, trying to calm myself. But the panic only grows, until I’m on my hands and knees, retching into the tiny bathtub.
I get it together just as my phone rings.
Damien. I don’t need that shit right now. I’m going to kill whoever installed wifi on this plane.
“Yeah.”
“Don’t tell me you’re on your way to Ireland, fucker.”
“I am.”
“And you couldn’t have spoken about it to me first? Why the fuck does Everest know everything before me?”
“Because Everest has no intention of killing Piper and…”
“And I do? Stop that, Logan. You know me better than that.”
“I know you’ve been bringing up the idea of killing her for the past ten years at least once a week, yeah.”
“Again: it was a joke, Logan. Goddammit, can’t you fucking take a joke? What happened to you? Thought you were the fucking Devil clown.”
“Damien.” I wish I could reach through the phone and strangle him. “Piper’s my daughter. And Lia is… was… is… my girl…” Piper’s grammatical doubt hits hard. “It’s not a joke to me.”
“Right. I talk a lot, but actions are what matter, aren’t they? I’ve only ever helped you. You’re my brother.”
“My brother who would kill me without a second of hesitation over your girl.”
“And right back at you,” he snaps.
“Fine.” I sink to my knees beside the bathtub. “So what’s this phone call about? We’re about to land, and yeah, as you can probably guess, I have no fucking plan.”
“Well, I do.”
“Oh?” I wait, my heart beating faster.
“Okay, I lied. I don’t.”
Fuck! I pound my fist against the side of the bathtub, hard enough to form a bruise. “Who’s the clown now? I don’t have time for this, Damien.”
“Nevertheless,” he continues, “I do have information that might be of interest to you.”
“Okay…”
“You know Emilio Cabello?”
“Yeah,” I growl. “I do. And last time I heard, he was living out the rest of his pathetic life in Italy, in the middle of bumfucking nowhere...”
“Jesus, Logan. Watch it with the language. I’ve got Campbell on the line.”
“Why the fuck is that idiot on the line?”
“Alright, I’m disconnecting you, Campbell. It seems like my friend is kind of in a bad mood. Hold on.” There’s a pause as Campbell leaves the conversation, and then Damien tells me, “You’re not being very polite.”
“Yeah, well, this just isn’t a good time, Damien, okay? Since when do you even talk to Campbell, anyway? He’s some lowdown fuck who heads our science department. I don’t even know what we do down there, and…”
“Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t have a clue either. But Campbell’s been telling me some interesting shit about Emilio Cabello...”
“Damien, I don’t give a fuck about some has-been mobster rotting away in Italy. Even if he is Lia’s father. Who the fuck cares?”
“Hmm.” He marks another pause, then appears to switch subjects. “You know Anna Price?”
“Moretti’s dead wife? Yeah.”
It’s like he wants to make me lose time. “Well, this isn’t about her. Though I do have a fun little Anna Price to tell you about. But anyway, this is about the Price Syndicate.”
“The Syndicate we bought out sixteen years ago?”
“Yup.”
“And why should I care about them?”
“Well, I don’t know, actually.”
“Oh my fucking god, Damien!”
I slam the same fist against the side of the bathtub, the dull throb feeling good.
“Seriously, Logan, you need to work on your anger management, there. And learn about patience.”
“I have been patient,” I growl. “I’ve had eighteen years of patience. I’ve been so fucking patient you figured it would be fine to make those jokes about killing my daughter. I’ve been so fucking patient I let you. And I would have thought, if you were my friend…”
“Okay, okay. Calm down. I am your friend. I’m an asshole, but I’m your friend, and the Prices aren’t completely old news.
The family have been double-crossing us this whole time.
We bought their patents but that hasn’t stopped those fuckers from making money on the downlow by making and selling one of their drugs.
They’ve been operating out of Paris. Their drug is called Memoril and it causes temporary amnesia.
We started tracing the people who’ve been buying it, and guess who their number one client is? ”
“Who?” I click my tongue in impatience.
“Believe it or not...” Damien pauses for dramatic effect. “It’s Emilio Cabello.”