Page 21 of Logan

“First thing to learn about me. I’m not a funny person, and I don’t joke. If you do catch me joking, then you should run. That usually means I’m on my last nerve.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

I couldn’t bear to look at the other man’s smiling face anymore.

Seriously, did he ever get upset or show any other emotion?

No one could be this pleasant all the time. It set my teeth on edge because I couldn’t figure out what he was thinking.

Rather than focusing on Logan sitting across from me at the table, I watched the other people around us. It was mostly couples, and a few families with young kids. The few individual customers sat up at the bar at the front, perching on stools rather than taking up a while booth.

What did people think of us when they saw Logan and I together?

Did they think we were a couple?

Or maybe just a pair of friends on a road trip?

We definitely didn’t look related.

I noticed our waiter on the far side of the diner, whispering with other members of the staff. I initially chalked it up to typical workplace gossip, until I noticed them glaring over toward our table in between their words.

At first, I assumed the look was meant for me. Somehow, they must have figured out what I was, and they didn’t approve of having someone of my “profession” in their establishment.

However, after a moment, I realized they weren’t looking at me at all. Their glares were pointed at Logan.

Why?

I was suspicious of him, but that’s because I was suspicious of everyone. So far, Logan hadn’t done anything to draw such looks from normal people.

An image suddenly came to my mind, and for a moment I thought I’d accidentally slipped back into the Midnight Zone asI looked down at Logan and myself from an outside perspective. However, it wasn’t that. I had just been struck with clarity about what Logan and I must look like to other people.

He was well dressed, in a smart suit jacket that he’d paired with dark jeans to keep it casual. There was nothing spectacular about his look, but he was obviously well put together.

I, on the other hand, was a wreck. I’d left behind all my working clothes since I never wanted my brother to see me in such revealing outfits. This only left me with a few ratty pairs of sweatpants and two T-shirts. I was wearing the best of them now, but it was still a far cry from Logan’s polished appearance.

Add in the black eye that was still tender to the touch, and we must look like an abuser and his victim.

It wasn’t just the waiters, either. The whole diner kept sneaking us suspicious looks. I was tempted to stand up on the table and shout the truth from the top of my lungs to set everyone straight.

How dare they all care about me now?

Where was this concern when I was actually being abused?

What if their suspicions drove Logan away, and I lost my only chance at salvation?

Would any of them offer me the same help Logan had, or would they just shake their heads and pity me from a distance?

A touch on my hand startled me, making me jump. Logan leaned across the table, and I was certain he must be mad. This was the moment he would finally drop his “nice guy” act and show me his real face.

Yet, he just kept smiling as he cupped my hand in his own. I hadn’t even realized my hands were clenched into tight fists on the table, but my fingers ached from the strain as he gently coaxed them into uncurling.

“It’s all right.”

I watched, distracted, as he rubbed the ache out of my fingers.

“What?”

He moved on to my other hand and soothed that one as well.

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