Fallen Crest University
Page 6Mason stepped up to my side. He removed Logan’s arm from my shoulders and patted it as he guided it back to Logan’s side, making a show of the gesture. He nodded to my father. “She will be. Logan’s got a bee up his ass today, but don’t worry.”
Mason interlaced our fingers, tugging me to his side. He spoke over my head, “She’ll be fine. Won’t she, Logan?”
Logan rolled his eyes and jerked a hand over his shoulder. “Let’s head out before the crowd gets here.” As soon as we were outside, he made a beeline for Mason’s Escalade.
He started to head for the driver’s seat, but Mason called out, “Hell no. Back, buddy.”
There was no argument.
Logan slid into the backseat but waved for us to hurry. “Come on. Hashtag Logan’s thirsty, get a move on it.”
“Oh god.” Mason’s hand released my elbow.
I went around to the front passenger seat.
As we got inside, Mason added, “Not the damn hashtags. I can’t take them today.”
Logan ignored him and began tapping on the ceiling. “Whatever. Let’s go. I’m in the mood, the mood for booze.”
As Mason started the engine, I saw Mark hurrying from the church. “Stop. Mark’s coming, too.”
Those two words sent a new feeling in the air. Mason and I shared a look. Something was going on with Logan, more than the need for drinking, getting laid, and fighting. This was Mark, who was adopted into the group because he was my now stepbrother. The core was still us three, but those words were going to exile Mark.
He was almost to the vehicle.
I murmured, “Mason.”
He nodded, already turning around and lowering his window. “I got it.” He called out to Mark as he began to go around the vehicle, “Hey, can you give us a minute?”
Mark braked, and he frowned. “Uh, sure…”
He looked at me through the windshield, and I held a finger up, indicating one moment. His eyebrows furrowed together, but he leaned back and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. I didn’t like keeping him out, but this was our family business.
Mason twisted around in his seat. “What is your problem?”
“Nothing. I want to drink.” Logan continued to tap on the vehicle’s ceiling. “Let’s head out.”
“And Mark can’t come?”
He jerked up a shoulder. “He can come. I was wrong to say that.”
“Nah. Malinda wanted a bunch of doves to be set loose during the reception. We talked the guy into a few white pigeons, too—ones that will drop some water balloons on people.” He laughed to himself, but the sound came out sharp, edgy, and abrupt. “We thought some of the doves could do that, but he said pigeons would be better. They can be trained for that stuff.”
“Who’s getting the water balloons?” Mason asked.
Logan shrugged again. “Some bitch-ass people.” He stopped tapping the roof and met Mason’s gaze. “Quinn.”
Mason flashed him a grin.
Logan looked to me. “Miranda Stewart.”
That was fine with me.
He added, “I wanted one to be dropped on Cass, but Mark refused. Said it would mess up his chances of getting it in tonight.”
“If nothing’s wrong with Mark because of the prank, what then? What’s going on with you?” I asked.
“Nothing. Like I said, I was wrong to say that.” He let out a soft curse and opened his door. “Come on, man. The interrogation’s over.”
Mark was hesitant when he got in.
Mark waved his hand in the air in a dismissive motion. “No problem. I get it.” He snuck a look over his shoulder. “But, um…can we get going? I’m pretty sure my girlfriend is going to be looking for me soon.”
I groaned. “Punch it, Mason.”
I looked too, and as Mason pulled out of the church’s parking lot, Cass came out from the front doors, squinting with a hand shielding the sun from her eyes as she looked all around the lot. Miranda, Peter, and the whole Academy Elite group were right behind her, and they began scanning, too.
I faced forward in my seat again. Yeah, no. I did not want to hang out with that group again. Dealing with Cass being Mark’s girlfriend was bad enough. Now, I needed a drink and when we got to the Kade mansion, Logan went behind the bar in the basement. I was heading for the bathroom, when he held up a shot he had poured. “Sam, get over here.”
“I’m going to the bathroom.”
He shook his head. His eyes darkened, and he held the cup higher in the air. “You can piss later. Let’s drink first.”
I glanced at Mason, and saw that he was fed up. He moved to stand in front of me, saying, “Okay, that’s enough. What the fuck is up your ass?”
“Nothing.”
Mason reached for the cup, but Logan moved it out of the way. He extended it to me again. “Sam, come on. Team player here.”
My chin lifted. That was a direct burn against me. Logan didn’t do that shit. He didn’t take his anger out on me—others, yes, but not me. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">