Chapter Ten
Logan
For Good
Fuck. That could have gone better.
I watch, helpless, as Quinn storms across the lawn and out of my life. I grip the edge of the door that nearly nailed me in the head as she flung it wide. Even if it had connected, it couldn’t have hurt me more than I already ache inside. A knife to the gut would have been kinder. But some things have to be done for the greater good. For Quinn’s own good.
I should have told her it was over that night at the drive-in, and I would have if not for Jolene’s crazy stunt. In the past week, I’ve been busy arranging day care, filling out insurance claims and looking into getting a restraining order; all things that were necessary and had the bonus effect of taking my mind off the little blonde goddess next door. The one who haunts my dreams every night and leaves me with a raging hard-on when I wake. I know the vision of her luscious curves and the taste of her sweet lips will be branded onto my soul forever.
Damn. Letting her go is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and I’ve lived a hard life. Seen cruel, unspeakable things in dark alleys and drug houses that would scar most people for life. But Quinn VanderKemp has already left a scar on my heart that I know will never heal.
In my forty years on this Earth, I’ve had plenty of practice in toughening up and moving on. What did Quinn have? What defense against the careless, unthinking assault on her emotions and her innocence by a man who let his dick lead him around like a witless puppy? A man who should know better. God, I’m such a shit. The soul-crushing thought of my own little girl being seduced one day, in the same manner, makes me want to die inside. But if the man who did it truly loved her, and she him, would that make it alright? Does a father really have any say or control in the matter? I feel bad for Frederick as much as myself.
I never intended to hurt Quinn. I never wanted anything except to give us both a little pleasure. I couldn’t resist the freshness of her face, the beauty of her young body, and the sharpness of her mind. She’d offered it all to me without hesitation, and I took it. All of it. She was the bread of life to a starving man who didn’t even realize he was starving. And I still hunger for her no matter how much I deny it; no matter how much I say it’s wrong.
She said she loves me. I know Rose loves her. I can’t say I know what being in love feels like. Everyone I thought I loved abandoned me. Maybe I’m incapable of loving anyone except my daughter. But deep down I think I’ve sent Quinn away because what I’m feeling right now seems damn close to love—and if that’s true, she might leave me too, like all the rest. This way, I’m the one doing the leaving. No one can leave me if I leave them first.
The memory of that horrible, hollow sensation comes back to me in full force; the one I never want to experience again. The feeling that the whole world has tilted sideways like a torpedoed ship and is spilling me off the deck into the freezing waters of the unknown. Rudderless and blind, with no sense of direction.
I felt it in the days right after my dad was killed. I did nothing but hide in my room, afraid that whoever got him would come for me next. I was just a dumb-ass kid, with no life skills or coping mechanisms, and the only person I could turn to couldn’t even look at me without crying and drowning herself in a bottle. One day she cried herself right out of the house and never came back.
I felt it again as I held a newborn Rose in my arms; a tiny, screaming, squirming bundle of humanity that I had no idea what to do with or how to care for. Her cries pierced my ears and ripped my heart. The rest of me went numb as Jolene railed and cursed, in one of her typical withdrawal rages, scattering everything within her reach across the room or on the floor, telling me it’s my fault, that I did this to her, and she couldn’t stand it another minute.
“You made this baby, you deal with it!” she’d screamed, slamming the door and disappearing from our crummy apartment, from my life, from our daughter’s life.
I’d never felt so lost, so betrayed, or so guilty. It was my fault—I’m the prick that got her pregnant after all. Guilty that I’d brought this perfect, beautiful, little person into the world with no more thought than I’d given to wearing a condom—which was none. No thought to the quality of life I could provide for her. But I was all she had now. Scared as I was, I had to make it work, and I did. I felt proud of that.
And now, the despicable creature that’s done nothing more for Rose than give birth to her has the gall to barge back in, and demand to see the progeny she abandoned so callously. It sets my teeth on edge and my guts on fire, and from what I see, there is no indication that she is in any better shape to be a mother now than she ever was. She can’t be trusted.
There’s no room in my life for anyone but Rose. It’s just the way it has to be. Buying this house was supposed to be a new start for us, but it’s not turning out that way. I’ve hurt Quinn, betrayed her father, and somehow put us within Jolene’s poisoned reach. It wasn’t what I’d set out to do.
As disrupting as a move will be, it might be best to start looking for another place, while Rose is still a preschooler. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere safe. Maybe look into getting a live-in nanny. And make sure she’s as unattractive as possible.
After I change and get ready to pick up Rose from day care, I pull out my cell phone and punch the number for my realtor’s office.