Matter of Time (12 page)

His heart screamed at him to tell her, “NO!” He didn’t want her to go. He needed her with him. Now. Always. But logically, he knew it would be easier to talk to Bobbi Jo if he wasn’t concerned about saying something that might be misconstrued by Lizbeth or upset her.

You mean like letting her think you
want
her locked in the bathroom so you have privacy to talk to your soon-to-be ex-wife?

He took in Lucas’s closed expression, which told him everything Lucas thought.
Way to go, bro. But you’ve got enough on you right now, so I’m not going to beat your ass. But when this is over, we’re going to the mat.

He dropped back his head, closed his eyes, and cursed the universe, the gods of fire, and himself. And then he drew in a deep breath and stood, grabbed his sweatpants, and called Bobbi Jo.

Through heaving sobs, she told him the fire was still burning and the house appeared to be a total loss. “What are we going to do? We don’t have anywhere to stay. We can’t stay with my parents. Their house is too small, and my dad can’t handle the chaos of three kids—”

“Stop right there, Bobbi Jo. You guys can stay with me until we figure out something permanent.” And that right there was the last thing he wanted to say, the last thing he would’ve said if Lizbeth had been in the room with him. But once again, his strong sense of duty and responsibility propelled him to do what he believed was right, whether it was what he wanted or not.

Her sobs slowed and she drew in a deep breath. “Are you sure?”

Yeah, unfortunately, he was. Regardless of the problems this would cause with Lizbeth—and how could it not, considering the tender state of their young relationship—he didn’t have a choice. He bought a four-bedroom house so each of the kids would have their own rooms when they came to stay with him. It didn’t make sense for them to stay anywhere else. Bobbi Jo was an issue… but he would deal with that later.

“I’m sure. Where are the kids?”

“Brian’s dad is bringing Luke home now. I told him there wasn’t a need, there’s nothing to see, but he insisted. Brianna just got here, and Maggie is being checked out by the paramedics.”

His ass hit the chair with a thud as his legs gave out. “What’s wrong with her?”

“Nothing, she’s fine. But since she was home with me when the fire started, they’re checking her over to make sure she’s okay.”

Unable to hold up his head any longer, he rested his elbow on the table and dropped his forehead into his hand. He couldn’t imagine what he’d do if something happened to any of his kids, but especially his sweet little Maggie.

He ran his thumb and fingers over his eyes to wipe away the tears that accompanied the thought, then took a deep breath. “I’m getting my stuff packed up to head that way. I should be there in about four hours.” He’d probably be there sooner, but if he said three and a half and it took three hours and thirty-two minutes, his cell would start blowing up again, and none of them needed that. “Go on over to my house and make yourselves at home.”

“Okay.” There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Thank you, Logan. I believe everything happens for a reason, so maybe this is what needed to happen to make us see the light. To force us back together so we could work this out.”

Never gonna happen,
was his immediate thought, but he kept the words locked behind closed lips. He leaned back in his chair and flipped his gaze to the closed bathroom door. Even if he hadn’t found Lizbeth again, his marriage was over, and nothing in the world would ever make him reconcile with Bobbi Jo.

The last time his life got flipped upside down, he sacrificed his relationship with Lizbeth to do the right thing. He had three beautiful children to show for it, but he’d spent fifteen years being miserable. He was finished sacrificing himself for the greater good. He still didn’t know how to go about it, but this time, he was determined to do the right thing for his kids while still holding on to Lizbeth.

*

Lizbeth spun in a circle, trying to get her bearings and accept Logan was really gone. Again. The bed was tossed, an unmistakable sign of their time together. The clothes she’d worn to dinner were in a heap on the floor. The clothes she’d worn when they went out earlier in the day dangled from the back of a chair. Well, the blouse did. The pants were tossed into the corner, along with the clothes she wore last night—God, had it only been a little over a day since she and Logan reconnected? The flogger he used an hour before lay tossed off to the side of the bed. The blindfold from earlier in the day hung from the bedpost.

When she came out of the bathroom after taking a shower, he’d been in the midst of tossing his clothes into his duffel bag. It took less than ten minutes to gather his things and get dressed for his drive back to Charlotte. Two minutes later, he wrapped up their hug and kiss, vowed to call when he got home so she’d know he arrived safely, and then he was gone.

A light tap on the door brought her attention back around as Lucas cracked the door open and stuck his head inside. “Hey.” His eyes dipped down, probably checking to make sure she was dressed. Seeing the robe, he stepped into the room and shut the door behind him.

It was odd to see Lucas uncomfortable and at a loss for words, but as he shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels, it was obvious he didn’t have any idea what to say.

Reverting to her old ways in uncomfortable situations, she dropped her happy mask into place, put a smile on her face, and laughed like she didn’t have a care in the world. “This has a distinct déjà vu feel to it. I think we’ve”—she motioned back and forth between them—“been here before.

“No.” His voice was strong, almost angry, as he took a step toward her and shook his head. “This isn’t like before.”

The weight of his stare, coming from green eyes identical to Logan’s, cut through her facade, forcing her to turn away so he didn’t see the depths of her fear and pain. “It certainly feels like it. I understand his need to leave, I really do. Please don’t misunderstand. But…”

She fingered the blindfold and shivered when the flogger caught her attention again. As a lifetime of hurt rushed the levee she used to keep her emotions in check, cracks and leaks began to form. In an effort to keep everything locked tight, she drew in a deep breath and pulled the edges of the robe tight.

Making sure she kept her voice strong and steady, so as to not give away the hollow ache in her chest, she sank into one of the chairs and said, “If their divorce was final, I might think differently. But I know what he’s willing to sacrifice for his kids. And I don’t fault him for it.” Hell, his strong convictions in doing the right thing, as well as his loyalty to those he loved, were the things she loved most about him.

Lucas flipped around the other kitchen chair and sat in it backward, facing her. “There are only a few things I’m certain of. The sun will come up tomorrow, and it will set tomorrow night. The tide will roll in and the waves will crash onshore. And Logan loves you. His marriage is over, and even though this is a setback, he’ll figure out a way to make things work with you.”

His eyes softened and a small smile lifted his lips. “All of his life, Logan has been the good kid.” She laughed at his implication of not being quite so good. “He married Bobbi Jo because he thought it was the right thing and what our parents and society expected.” He shrugged and sighed. “He loves those kids more than life itself, and because of that, he’ll do whatever he needs to protect them, to take care of them, and make sure they have a roof over their heads. But he’s also ready to stop sacrificing everything he wants in the process of taking care of them.”

A roof over their heads…

Logan hadn’t told her anything about his phone calls with the kids, but they would obviously need a place to stay. As would Bobbi Jo.

She swallowed the knot in her throat and chewed on the inside of her lip. She hated the insecurity clawing away at her insides, but she couldn’t stop it. “Are they all moving to his place?”

Lucas’s eyes narrowed slightly before he masked his reaction. “I’m not sure what the arrangements are.”

“Bullshit.” Anger and fear for her future with Logan added extra bite to her reply. “I don’t think you’ve ever lied to me, so don’t start now.”

He sighed and ran a hand over his face. “His house has three spare bedrooms for the kids, so I’m sure they’ll stay with him for a while. Which makes things more difficult for you guys to”—his lips quirked as he glanced at the messy bed—“continue getting reacquainted. But…”

He reached for her hand and squeezed her fingers. “Look at me, Lizbeth. Look into my eyes and know I’m telling you the God’s honest truth.” He held her gaze for a moment, making sure she saw the honesty of his words. “He loves you. He’s always loved you. I believe, with every fiber of my being, this will work out for you guys.”

His tone was firm and strong and absolute, forcing her to believe he told the truth… at least as he believed it. When he stood to leave, she also stood and gave him a hug.

“Thanks, for everything. Now and then. I don’t think I ever thanked you for all you did back then. And I can never thank you enough for arranging this reunion.” As a cold chill settled over her again, she wrapped her arms around her waist and gave him the best smile she could muster under the circumstances. “No matter what happens, I’m incredibly grateful for this weekend with Logan.”

And she was. She wished she possessed Lucas’s faith, but regardless of what happened in the future, she would forever hold the memories of this weekend in her heart as a treasured gift.

E
ven though Logan was making the trip from Myrtle Beach to Charlotte in record time, it still seemed to take forever. His mind swung from one disconnected thought to another, like a master trapeze artist, jumping and flipping and soaring at impressive heights without a net. He’d talked to each of the kids a couple times and finally got his heart to accept that, other than being scared and emotionally devastated over having lost everything, they were fine. They were at his house, and even though it wasn’t their primary home, they would be as comfortable as possible given the circumstances.

I should’ve been there… at least by phone.

He shook his head, trying to get the thought to break loose and leave him for good, but it wouldn’t be dislodged. He still couldn’t believe the one time they truly needed him he’d put his phone on silent and missed their calls. How could he shut them out without a thought?

But it wasn’t without a thought, was it?

And that was the issue causing him the most trouble. He’d made a conscious decision to turn his phone to silent so they wouldn’t interrupt his fuck fest with Lizbeth. And if he hadn’t gone to Myrtle Beach in the first place, he would’ve been in Charlotte, the kids would’ve been with him, and none of them would’ve been in danger.

A small, logical part of his brain able to get through the mental fireworks pointed out he was on the road all the time during race season. And if this happened during one of his race weekends, he wouldn’t beat himself up. After all, racing and his business paid for the house and all the things in it in the first place.

But he hadn’t been gone for work. He’d been off having fun, and he couldn’t seem to forgive himself for that. And what did that mean for him and Lizbeth in the long run? It wasn’t reasonable to expect her to travel all the time so he didn’t ever have to leave his kids again. Hell, never leaving them again wasn’t even a reasonable thought, especially when he traveled all the time for work.

He drew in a deep breath, pounded his fist against the dashboard, and roared into the cab of his truck, letting all the fear, anxiety, and madness escape before his head exploded.

It was nearly four a.m. when he exited the highway and wound his way through the streets of his neighborhood. Lights burned inside and out, and as he approached, he saw movement through the front windows.

Bobbi Jo’s SUV was parked in the driveway, blocking his path to his garage—of course—so he parked at the curb, grabbed his bag from the backseat, and made his way up the sidewalk to the front door of his house, like a visitor.