LOGAN KADE (Fallen Crest Spin-Off)

Chapter Two

BEEEEP YOURSELF

TAYLOR

“Broozer! You’re hilarious. Why didn’t I know this?”

Listening from around the corner, my nails sank farther into my palms. That woman had been saying that same phrase over and over for the last thirty minutes. Even though I was in college, I felt some middle-school tendencies rearing up. I wanted to get up from my perch on the stairs, march in there, and do something I’d regret later.

“Broozer!” She laughed, and her hand pounded the table. “You are too funny.”

Okay. That was it. I stood up, but the gods shined their favor on me. My friend’s headlights lit up the house.

“Bruce,” a male voice from the dining room said, “I think someone just pulled up in your driveway.”

“Oh.” A chair scraped over the floor. “That must be Taylor or her friends. I didn’t know she was here.”

That wasn’t surprising. There was a lot he seemed not to know anymore.

“Taylor?”

I was at the door and reaching for the door handle when he came around the corner. I paused and glanced back. I loved my dad. I had moved back almost nine months ago to be here with him, but we were roommates. The father/daughter dynamic wasn’t there anymore. It hadn’t been since my mother died and we dealt with her loss in two different ways. He became engrossed in his job as one of the coaches for Cain University among some other activities. If he wasn’t thinking about football, he was watching tapes, he was planning plays, he was on the phone with a player, he was on the phone with a coach, he was—the list went on and on. He’d been promoted to defensive coordinator last spring, and I knew it was a product of all his extra work.

I didn’t recognize this man who let some woman call him Broozer, like that was his name. He was known as Coach Broozer, but his name was Hank. Hank Bruce. Coach Broozer had always been his alter ego. Wild. Yelling. Passionate. That was Broozer. Hank was quiet, kind, loving to my mother. Hank was my father. But Coach Broozer stood in front of me now, looking like he regretted coming out to check because now he actually had to talk to me.

“Is that a date in there?”

His eyebrows pinched together, and the corners of his mouth strained. I looked away from his eyes. He kept his body trim, his dark brown hair didn’t have any graying strands, and he had a strong jawline below clear blue eyes. He was dressed nice: a pastel blue polo over trendy jeans. He and Mom had me when they were eighteen, and he was only thirty-eight. I knew that made him prime dating material, but that didn’t mean I liked it.

He glanced over his shoulder, giving the dining room a wary look before he lifted a shoulder. He still held his cloth napkin, and his hand closed a fist around it. “I don’t know, to be truthful. Mike and Evelyn brought a friend over, but it’s just a night with friends for me.”

Beep! Beep!

“Is that Jason and Claire?” My dad gestured to the car outside.

I nodded. “Yeah. Hold on.”

Opening the door, I stuck my head out. Claire waved from the driver’s seat, smiling widely at me while Jason leaned his head out his window. He made an impatient motion.

“Two seconds,” I yelled.

His eyes rolled. Claire gave me a thumbs-up.

“I should go,” I told my dad. “We’re going to a party.”

“Taylor Laurelin Bruce!” Jason yelled from outside. “Get your cute patootie out here. We’ve got parties to attend and beverages to regurgitate. Let’s get a move on, son.”

My dad chuckled, waving me off. “Go ahead. Have fun. We can catch up later.” He chuckled, then said, “Oh—”

I stepped back and waited.

“Did you need a ride to campus tomorrow? I’ll be leaving around six. Early practice.”

I cringed. “I think I’ll take my own car and deal with the parking lots. Thanks for the offer, though.”

“Anytime. I’m there every day. I’m sure we can figure out times when we can ride together.”

I nodded before slipping out the door, but I doubted it. As of today I attended Cain University technically as a transfer freshman, but I knew I’d be going it alone most of the time—unless Claire got a bug up her rear and wanted to ride together. That seemed unlikely, though. She lived a block off campus in an apartment with three other girls. Driving all the way to my house, through traffic, and back to campus would be an hour’s venture. She’d only driven tonight because the party was outside of town.

“About time.” Jason twisted around as I slipped into the backseat. “Were you contemplating world peace in there? I could’ve joined the local monastery and became a nun by now.”

I grinned as I clipped my seatbelt in place. “Monasteries are for monks.”

“Hmm-mmm. Not for me they ain’t.” He wiggled his eyebrows, flashing me a smile and his dimples. He waved a finger at me. “You know I’d be the only non-practicing nun in there, too.”

“Was that your dad?” Claire looked in the rearview mirror at me after she had pulled out into the street. Ten and two. Her hands were positioned perfectly on the steering wheel. Even her posture was perfect. Her back was straight. Her head stood tall and confident, like the rest of her.

Claire had almost-white blonde hair, and it was wavy and spiraled like she had a perm that would never go away. With the right shampoo and a little bit of gel, hairspray, and fluffing, her hair fell past her shoulders and down her back like she’d stepped out of a hair commercial. She had the golden tan, a light smattering of freckles, and blue eyes. If anyone was going to joke about being a nun, Claire had the best chance of persuading someone to believe her. She actually looked angelic.

Not that she was a nun, though. I’d been the one with the steady boyfriend all through high school—from eighth grade until the day my mother died. Claire had had her fair share of boyfriends. She averaged two a year, and one time, after a night of too many daiquiris in high school, she confessed that she enjoyed starting the school year with a new guy and ending with a new guy. She said things never got too dull, but they lasted long enough to get into a comfortable routine. She only started blushing our senior year, so I figured that was when she lost her V card.

Jason was the opposite, not just with his s*x life, but also how he dressed. Claire was elegant, and Jason was anything but with his pink collared shirt and red plaid shorts. I was a little more conservative in a black tank top and frayed jean shorts. Claire liked to point out that it didn’t matter what I wore, I usually wore it best—her words, not mine. I thought she was ludicrous whenever she said that. We all stood at the same height—around five feet, eight inches—though Jason’s hair was currently gelled up into something like a Mohawk. Claire’s hair was loose, and I had my light brown hair back in a messy fish braid.

“Tay?”

I remembered her question about my dad. “He came to check on me. He has friends over tonight.”

“Well, that was…” Jason shared a look with Claire. His mouth flattened into a disapproving line. “...sure nice of him.”

They shared another look, and I pretended not to notice. They’d helped me pick out the casket and finalize all the funeral details while my dad watched football tapes. Yes. They didn’t need to say anything at all.

And it was time to change the topic. I cleared my throat. “Where’s this party again, Claire?”

“It’s not far from your place, a couple of miles. I heard about it from some friends at school.”

“Will I know people there?” Jason asked.

She took the car in a careful turn, pulling onto a gravel road. “I’d be surprised if you didn’t.”

“Wait. Friend or foe?”

Claire didn’t reply.

“Claire,” he urged, leaning closer to her. “Friend or foe? You know my enemies.”

She flicked a strand of hair over her shoulder, glancing at him from the side of her eye. “Um…”

He sat back in his seat, his back resting against the door. “You’re kidding me.”

“It might not be that bad—” she started.

He finished. “Park’s enemies? Right? That’s who it is? That’s who’s throwing the party?”

She cleared her throat and readjusted her hold on the steering wheel, as her little chin grew firm. “Sebastian Park is not on campus anymore, so that means you’re not indebted to him. You can do whatever you want, and that includes—”

He rolled his eyes, cutting her off. “I know how ruthless he can be. I think not. Park’s gone, but he’s not out of commission. Not fully. He still has some connections, and I’m not going against him. No way. If those guys who went against him last year are there, you know I’m done for. I won’t even be allowed into the party.”

“That’s not true.” Claire’s voice grew louder. “You’ll be fine, and you’re going in as my friend. You’re not working for him anymore, and besides, believe it or not, I doubt they even remember you. You do go to a different college than us.”

“Kade will.”

I sat up, recognizing the name. “Kade?”

Claire let out a soft, irritated sound. “It’s not even like that, and Kade won’t remember you. I’m sure of it. He’s…” She held her hand up, lifting it close to the car’s roof. “…up here, and you…you’re…” The meaning was clear. Jason was not a blip on this guy’s radar.

I kept my mouth shut. No way was I stepping into that.

“Thanks, Claire.”

“Well, it’s true.” She shrugged. “I’m sorry. You had one run-in with Logan Kade last year, and Park’s beef wasn’t even really with him. It was with his brother. So yes, I think Logan Kade will be at this party, but I don’t think you have to worry about him.”

I didn’t know who this Park was. Kade sounded familiar, though.

He folded his arms over his chest and fixed Claire with a brooding stare.

“Stop it.” She gave him the same stare right back. “I mean it. That’s all over and done with. You have nothing to worry about, and if you do, I’ll step in. Or Taylor will.”

“What?” My head swiveled between them. “Step into what?”

“It’s fine. If these guys come after Jason, just tell them who you are, who your dad is, and they’ll stand down. People know your mom died last year, and they respect your dad. So they won’t do anything you don’t like tonight.”

“Great.” Jason’s sarcasm was thick. “Just wonderful. I have to be saved by some girls.”

“Hey!” Claire and I cried.

“Nothing against v*****s, even your v*****s, but despite how I dress, I’m still a guy. I can handle myself.”

I leaned forward. “Do they know how my mom died?”

A sudden hush came over the car, followed by a slight wave of tension, and I knew why. It plagued me for the last nine months, but I hadn’t talked about it. No one asked, and I never offered. A counselor had asked my feelings once, but I spent the entire hour in silence. My friends never questioned me. They knew better. I’d talk when I wanted to. The last and only time I spoke on the subject was my statement to the police—until now.

Claire shifted in her seat. “Uh…no,” she murmured. “It was kept out of the papers, and I’ve never heard any word about it on campus.”

“No one talks about it on my campus either,” Jason added.

I was relieved to hear it, and as quick as I brought it up, I shoved it to the back of my mind. Seeing lights from a house growing brighter and brighter as we approached, I said the only other thing I wanted to do that night.

“Good,” I told my friends. “Now let’s get drunk.”