“Don’t look back, Aster. Not right now. There are too many things between us we can’t undo, and we have to focus on what we can change.”
I worked to swallow the sorrow. I’d lived in the chains of agony for so long. Now they rattled. Clanged and clashed.
“What is the one thing that would turn your father against Jarek?” he pressed.
My father considered Jarek the son he’d never had. Dethroning him would take the greatest disloyalty.
I blinked through the hopelessness that wanted to enfold. “I’d need to prove he was stealing from him or keeping something from him that would hurt the family.”
“And you believe he is?”
“I don’t believe he’s ever been truly loyal.” My eyes fluttered over the intensity that rippled over Logan’s face. “There’s always been something there, Logan, something at odds with my family.”
“I won’t stop until I find out what that is.” Logan paused, lost in thought. “That night, I think Jarek set me up. I’ve always believed the whole thing was a setup.”
Hope blazed, burned against the helplessness. “I never believed you were the one responsible, Logan. He knew…I know he knew about us. He knew I was going to leave. But it will always be your word against Jarek’s, and you know whose side my father is going to take. He truly thinks him a son.”
“I will find a way.”
“My sister is trying.” I hadn’t told him about it. I hadn’t been sure what I could trust him with.
Logan frowned.
My tongue swept out to wet my dried lips. “There’s a safe in Jarek’s office at our house. I don’t think he knew I saw that there’s a fake bottom when he was slipping something in one time, and he always seems more secretive and on edge when he opens it. My gut tells me if there’s something to find, we’ll find it in there.”
“Let me do it.” He nearly flew off the bed.
I grabbed onto him like there might be a chance I would never have to let him go. “No, Logan, you can’t go back there. It’s a miracle my father agreed to this at all. If he catches wind of you digging into family matters…”
“He wants me dead.” It almost sounded as if he were trying to make a joke, as if he hadn’t stolen something that many fools had fallen for.
“The real miracle is you’re not.”
I wasn’t laughing at all, my voice taking on a grim tone.
There was sorrow there. A confession. I didn’t mean for Logan to see it, but I knew he did. The way his expression shifted and changed and took on new understanding.
He brushed his fingers through my hair.
Softly.
Gently.
An apology.
It was also riddled with an aching question. “When you first came here, you told me I’d left you without a choice.”
His eyes roved over me as if he could sift out the answer.
My mind spun back to that day.
Weeping. Weeping. So much pain. My hand grasping at my father’s. “Anything. Anything, Papa. Just promise me you’ll spare him. Promise me, and I’ll do what you demand.”
“Maybe that statement was wrong, Logan…because I had a choice, but there was no other choice I could make.” The admission clotted in my throat, emotion so thick I could hardly speak.
Logan tightened his hold, confusion and dread rushing from the words. “You told me once that we have to take the chance when it’s presented to us and refuse the heartache when it’s demanded of us.”
I traced my fingertips over the thunder of his heart. Over the proof of life that beat at a constant, steady drum. The soft words tried to stick to my tongue when I let them go. “I did, Logan. I refused the heartache.”