Page 46 of Unmistakably Us

The saccharine was still there, but her voice took on an edge.

“You know exactly why we are here. We’ve come to bring you home, dear.” The last word was spat out like a curse, and the ones preceding it were low so as not to be overheard by the room at large.

January was aware of the hushed tone in the room. Breathing was the overwhelming soundtrack of the lull between words. A distant slow swoosh sound broke up the rhythm of it.

Keeping the false sunshine and glitter lacing her voice, January responded, ignoring the chill that coursed through her entire being. “I messaged you, about my plans to return Sunday night, did you not get my text?”

A gasp, one she was intimately familiar with, pierced her soul. “Sunday, as in one fucking day from now?” The question seemed to be more disappointed and tortured than angry, which is what she expected from Logan. Anger, and lots of it, but it seemed to be absent.

All eyes turned toward the man she loved, the man she loathed hurting, but had done so all the same. All eyes except hers. January knew if she looked at him, she would give up everything, even let her mother say what she would to her sister.

Instead, she stared at her mother, willing the woman away. Willing her to not go after Logan, willing her to just accept the sacrifices she was making, had made as payment enough and leave. Of course, that’s not how her mother operated.

* * *

The commotioninside drew everyone’s attention. Logan could see very little fine detail but with the open layout of Gus’ house and the incessant barking of Sixx and Mars from the run, it was obvious there was company. Company everyone was tense about, at that.

John was the first to eat up the distance between the grill and the door. He was a man on a mission, which triggered Logan’s, oh fuck meter. John wasn’t a rash man. He was control incarnate, but one glance at the flurry of activity around the front door and he was the picture of chaos.

Not bothering to close the door after he entered, John came up behind his wife and wrapped his arms around her. She disappeared as his body enveloped her. Logan smiled a little for a moment. That's what happened when he hugged Jan from behind, too.

His smile dropped as Jan’s sugary sweet voiced reached his ears. Those were her parents. Logan knew very little, but he knew he didn’t care for them. However, they were her parents, and he was curious. Also, he wanted to meet the people who created his very lifeblood.

He had just stepped inside as that lifeblood crystalized and froze in his veins. She was leaving him. Logan knew she’d planned on leaving, but that was some distant future, one he had time to fight. Not Sunday. He couldn’t fight Sunday.

“Sunday, as in one fucking day from now?” Surely, he heard wrong. Surely, January would turn around and tell him it was all a mistake…wouldn’t she?

There it was, pity. He hated pity, all eyes on him, feeling sorry for poor, little, unwanted Logan. Not all eyes, not a pair of hazelly green ones that lit a fire in his soul. Not those eyes. Logan knew she’d heard him too, because her entire demeanor changed. It was like when Domino was in charge, and there was a palpable shift.

The waiting was the worst. No, it was the rending of his heart that was the worst.

Time stood still. It was like a bad scene from a low-budget movie. Even the dust motes floating in the air ceased all movement and just hung there…waiting.

In slow motion, time started a sluggish march forward again, but it still felt stilted, not real time. January’s mother started to speak, but was overridden by Francis ordering everyone to the other room. Of course, her order was laced with sugar and phrased like a request, but it was obeyed all the same.

John dragged Gus with him toward their bedroom. Everyone who had migrated from the yard melted back out the door. Everyone but January found somewhere else to be.

“January, be a dear and fetch me some sweet tea. I’m feeling a little parched, and no rush, okay? I want to have a talk with our guests here.” Francis phrased it like a request, but it was anything but.

January huffed but gave a quick nod and complied. She found her feet to be the most interesting things as she passed Logan, never once looking in his direction even though he was directly in the line of her mission.

It hurt in a way that was indescribable, but what hurt more? The look on her profile as she passed and the way she hugged herself. The tears broke him.

Why should they? She was leaving him. She made her choice so he would give zero fucks. Well, maybe one. He needed to know why. They had a good thing going, and he was positive she felt the same about him. At least she could with time, so why?

His thoughts were interrupted when Francis transformed from a sweet, little ole southern belle to a petite mob boss in a designer pantsuit.

“Melody, is it? May I call you Melody? Never mind, it doesn’t matter. I don’t need to know your name to know your type.” Francis was cool and scary as fuck as she leaned into the woman’s personal space, but she never dropped the sweet tea smile or the sugary pecan pie tone.

“Let me make one thing crystal clear. If you hurt one of my kids, I will destroy you and not even break a sweat.”

Francis seemed to give her a minute to digest the threat, but the lady was clueless and responded with the wrong answer. “Those two do not belong to you. They belong to me. They’re my daughters.”

“Melody, Melody, Melody, you can’t own people. And just because you shot them out of your baby cannon, doesn’t make you a mother. There is so much more to it than that.”

January’s mom opened her mouth to respond, but Francis halted her words with a finger to her mouth like she was a child.

“Uh-uh, just listen. Do you know what we have in abundance here in the great state of Florida? Old people, golf carts, and gators. Do you know that the gators in some parts can damn near devour a human body and not leave a trace for the cops to even puzzle out what happened or who they were. Or so I’ve heard.”

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