Page 63 of Tortured Eyes

Clanking begins to erupt around him in the background. I stay quiet and listen to him grumbling to himself. I don’t care if he’s pissed. I want an apology, want something that shows me his fucking attitude at the time, all because of his love for a woman who was too unworldly to know best, weakened what we were.

“You’re an asshole,” he snarls.

“I know.”

“I did it for her.”

“I know. And I’m still waiting for a fucking apology.”

“Fine. It might have been the wrong play, but-”

“Might?”

“Jesus Christ, Logan. Get your ass back here and do what you do. I’m sorry for tanning your hide like I did. It was wrong, and you probably didn't deserve it. I just...” An embedded sigh falls from my lips, and I tune the rest of it out. I don’t give a fuck for any other conversation, only that he acknowledges those facts and apologises for the way he treated me. “You still there?” I laugh lightly, some part of me feeling like a weight has been lifted that I didn’t even know was there. "Nate would want this. You know what he was like. The city is in chaos." My brows pull together, my fault in his death bedding into my guts again. "I need you, Logan. I can't put this right on my own. He'd hate seeing what's happening here."

He sure would.

“Is this you asking or father?" There's silence for a few seconds. It's enough for me to know that my father,asshole that he is, is involved in this conversation even if he isn't on the line. I'm pissed about that, and yet somehow feel like I just achieved a respect level I've never reached before. "Doesn't matter." That argument is between me and my father alone. "I’ll be there in the next few days. I’ll bring you a balaclava so you can keep your fucking image sparkly." Although, I don't want him involved in a damn thing, not with a baby on the way. That's my job now.

He snorts on the other end of the line, then falls quiet.

“You’re still a dick,” he murmurs.

“Yeah. You too.”

The sound of the phone cutting out leaves me melancholy for some reason. Probably because of everything I'm trying not to process. Maybe I've missed Carter more than I’ve given thought to. Or maybe everything over the last month has just made me remember family, connection. Nate's eyes and his need for us to be together again.

I don’t know, and at the moment I can't see any answers to questions I've not asked myself for a long time anyway. I’m just going to go to Samuel and try sorting that fuck-up out first, show him some civility and hope we’re on the same page about who we are and what we want. No one’s interfering with that or my feelings about his safety and decency. Then I’ll plan for Chicago. Work out what needs to happen next to calm that down. Whatever it is, it'll be completed with Nate’s wishes in mind.

I owe him that much at least.