His First Crush

by Mj Fields

  Once all the kids, plus Lexi, who believes she’s grown and should stay, but is convinced she’s needed to help with Piper, Reed, Chance, and Hope, are gone, we all line up to fill our plates with the food laid out on the counter.

  Brunch consists of everything you could imagine. From egg white omelets, to steaks, a variety of potato recipes, toasts, bagels, juices, milk, coffee, teas, and fruit.

  “You have a cook?” Christy whispers to London.

  “No, we have family,” London answers then laughs. “And by family, I mean Tessa, who cooks through every issue she or others she loves is having.”

  Tessa laughs. “That’s not true.”

  “It certainly is. One of the reasons I love you.” Dad winks at her. “Except for when you won’t let me eat the shit I want to ninety percent of the damn time.”

  “And that’s because I would like you to stick around.” She smiles at him.

  “One heart attack and—”

  “You could’ve died, Daddy.”

  I look behind me at Ava’s voice and see her walk in. Then I look back at Dad, whose chest visibly swells when he sees her.

  “It would take a hell of a lot more to keep me away from my family,” he says, opening his arms as she walks up to him. He hugs her. “Logan.”

  I know what he’s asking for. A “family hug. It’s annoying as fuck.

  “Loggie.” Ava gives me the look, the one that makes me cave to her manipulative ways.

  I give in.

  When I think the hug is about finally ready to break, Ava pulls some shit.

  “London.”

  London walks over, and Ava pulls her into our family hug.

  Then I hear Jamie say, “Y’all are too cute. How did we not know you two had a thing?”

  “We don’t.” London laughs and looks up at me. “Do we?”

  “You’re a pain in the ass; that’s our thing,” I step back and look around, avoiding Brody’s scrutinizing look. Needing an excuse to leave, I tell them, “I need to go home and grab some clothes.”

  Ava grins. “I brought you a whole bag full.”

  “Of course you did,” I sigh out.

  Dammit.

  §

  After brunch, Lisa, and her parents arrive. They all look like Jamie and Christy did, but just like them, they catch on that there are no egos in the room when it comes to the rock stars.

  When the detectives come to the house, Tessa and Emma offer them coffee, and then we all make our way to the family room.

  Detective Boyens, an attractive, petite, dark-haired female in her late thirties, and Detective Garrison, a stout, bald man in his late forties ask that we take a seat. They sit in the leather wingback chairs while the girls all sit next to each other on one of the brown leather sofas. Brody and Emma stand behind the sofa.

  London looks up over her shoulder. The way Brody looks at her is best described as protectively. He clamps a hand on her shoulder, the touch mimicking his concerned gaze, which changes when he looks away from her and toward the detectives, becoming both protective and intense. Not a look I am unfamiliar with over the past several hours.

  “We would have preferred to separate the four of you and question you individually...” Garrison begins.

  “But since they aren’t on trial or suspected of any wrongdoing, that’s completely absurd,” Ava cuts him off. “They’re victims, witnesses to a horrific crime committed by a man who won’t stand trial, so that would be totally and completely insane.”

  “We’re well-aware of how you feel, Miss Links,” Garrison says with a bit of annoyance.

  “Watch your tone with my daughter,” Dad interjects.

  The female detective immediately interjects, “We agree that they aren’t on trial, Miss Links.” When Garrison starts to talk, Boyens continues over him. “We’re concerned about getting any information that will help us figure out any connections between those at Chaos last night and Damian Highmore.”

  “There’s also concern about the number of underage individuals in the establishment,” Garrison adds.

  “As I told you, they’re all eighteen years old. None were drinking, so let’s get this back on track,” Ava interjects.

  “Miss Links, you’re not here as their attorney,” Garrison says, trying to remain calm.

  Pisses me off.

  “I’m pretty damn sure, if you weren’t questioning them as if they’d done something wrong, she wouldn’t feel the need to act like one.”

  “You’re Logan Links,” he states, writing something down.

  “We’ve established this already.” I also try to remain calm. “Let me guess, you’re going to give me a traffic ticket for veering right?”

  “Or a parking ticket?” Ava adds.

  “We could give you several.” Garrison gives me a stern look.

  “But we aren’t here for that either,” Boyens adds. “The media has painted you a hero, Mr. Links. We don’t care to dispute that. What you did was heroic. What we would like to know is how it is you got there before the police.”

  “This family has seen its share of tragedy. London has a bracelet that tells us where she is,” Maddox answers.

  “You low-jacked your stepsister?” Garrison asks.

  “My sister,” Maddox corrects him then continues rather calmly, “Yes, and I will continue to do whatever it is I have to in order to protect my family.”

  I watch as Brody looks at Maddox and then at London. Clearly, this is the first he’s heard of this. I, however, did know.

  When he looks at me, I don’t look away. I want him to know I’m not a fucking joke, I’m not trying to get laid, and that, yes, I do care about what happens to this family...to her.

  “And so will I,” I add.

  I look at London who has tears welling in her eyes. I push off the wall, walk over to the other couch, and then sit.

  “So, Maddox called you?” Boyens asks.

  I shake my head and reach up for my hat that’s not there. From out of the corner of my eye, I see London smile softly, sit back, and look at the detectives.

  “When I got off the plane I decided to go.”

  “Because you knew your friends would be there?” Garrison asks. “Did Maddox call you with her location?”

  “My phone was on airplane mode; I’d been in New York for a few weeks. I didn’t know who was there, and they didn’t know I was coming home,” I answer.

  “So, then why did you go to Chaos?” Boyens asks.

  I look down and shake my head. “I saw Lisa post, girls night out at Chaos. Gut instinct that they were still there.”

  The room is silent, and I feel the eyes of everyone in it on me.

  After a few moments of that hell, Maddox chimes in.

  “I called him several times, but it went to voicemail. When he finally answered, he was less than three minutes from the club. We were still thirty minutes away. He did what he thought he had to do. When we finally arrived there...” He pauses. “Well, the two of you know the rest.”

  “That you crossed the line we told you not to,” Garrison states.

  “Well, we seem to have little faith that authorities can take care of situations they should have a handle on,” Brody snaps at him.

  “We also know,” Maddox raises his voice, “that although it’s your job to ensure the safety and wellbeing of the public, you aren’t Superman or woman. Which is why”—he turns to look at London—“I gave my sister the gift.”

  “I’m not mad, Maddox,” London says, looking down at her bracelet. “Especially now.”

  When Brody lets out an angry version of a sigh, London looks back at him. “For what it’s worth, I appreciate that you and Mom let me do this on my own. I learned my lesson.”

  “What lesson is that?” I ask, needing to know if she will either become completely careless or go in the opposite direction and become someone who doesn’t leave their home ever.

  She looks surprised when she looks at me, and then she takes a deep breath
before answering, “Some people are just shit.”

  My chest tightens with an odd sense of pride.

  “But I don’t want to ever be in a situation where I don’t have—”

  “Don’t do that,” I almost plead.

  “Do what exactly, Logan?” Brody snaps.

  “Give up. Don’t fucking give up.”

  “She could have died last night,” he hisses.

  “And she could have on her way home in an accident, or if some madman broke into her home, or if all the damn stars fell out of the heavens, but she didn’t.”

  Brody grips the back of the couch, his jaw taut. He’s pissed, and I don’t fucking care. All she’s said since I began seeing her for who she is, is that she doesn’t want to be in anyone’s shadow.

  I look at her. “You’re still here, London.”

  “She helped us,” Jamie whispers then clears her throat. “You were a hero, too, you know.”

  She shakes her head and looks down, running her fingers over the bracelet. “I just did what I had to do.”

  “By helping your friends, and then all those people out of the club and to safety. You could have gotten out long before them, London, but you didn’t. You helped save so many.”

  London covers her belly as tears fall down her face. “Excuse me,” she says as she stands and hurries out of the family room, toward the bathroom.

  I stand to follow her, but Emma and Brody rush to her first.

  “Let’s start over.” Boyens’ tone is quiet and sympathetic. “Lisa, Jamie, Christy, why don’t you tell us what happened?”

  Jamie starts, “We were dancing. Just dancing and laughing. We were having fun.”

  “Everyone was having fun,” Lisa whispers.

  “People from school were dancing, just letting go,” Christy adds sadly.

  Jamie looks at me. “Did you see Jones? Is he okay?”

  “No, I didn’t see him.” I look at Maddox then the detectives. All have solemn expressions. “Un-fucking-real.” I ball my fists at my sides and look down.

  “He said to say thank you.”

  I look up as London walks back into the room.

  “He signed with the Giants and said to say thank you.”

  I reach up to pull down my fucking hat, to hide my emotions, my thoughts, and of course I don’t have one of the damn things on.

  When I see a hat in front of me, I look up.

  “Take it.” London smiles sadly.

  She sits down next to me and clears her throat. “We went to the bathroom.” London’s voice quakes, and she clears her throat. “Like girls do, you know. Normal girls, friends.” She looks at them and then down. “Then we heard shots. Everyone started to panic.”

  “Everyone except you.” Jamie stands up and walks over, sitting next to London. She takes her hand before looking at the detectives. “This one, she climbed up on a garbage can and tried to open the window. When it wouldn’t open, she broke it. Then, one by one, she got us up and out of there. We were yelling for her to come, but she didn’t.”

  “The garbage can fell. I fell. Then we were getting rushed by terrified women trying to find a way out,” she whispers.

  “When you say we, who was helping you?” Garrison asks.

  There is no warning, no welling, no sniffles preceding her tears. They just fall, and she sobs. “I don’t know her name. I don’t know her. But when he burst into the bathroom, she tried to talk him down. He just started shooting. When he shot her, she fell against me, pushing me to the floor, and I”—she takes a deep breath—“I couldn’t move. I wanted to, I wanted to, but I couldn’t.”

  I grab her other hand, wanting her to stop. “Breathe, London, just breathe.”

  She sniffs as Emma hands her a tissue. “I...I...”

  She can’t fucking do this, and I can’t take seeing her struggle with it, so I begin.

  “When I walked into the bathroom, I didn’t see her, just bodies. When I spotted her arm, that bracelet, I started throwing people off her. Knowing I needed to get her out of there, I took a chance and left the room. We went into a storage room and waited for someone to come.”

  “You barricaded the door and stopped me from—”

  “You did good, London, you really did good,” I tell her, hoping she doesn’t go into one of those panic attacks like she did last night.

  When she leans into me, I don’t give a damn what looks I will get from everyone around, I put my arm around her and hold her...together.

  “Is that enough? Have you asked them enough questions, Garrison?” Brody snaps.

  Before he can answer, Boyens does. “We’re good for now. If we do have more questions—”

  “You can contact me,” Ava says.

  “We’ll contact you,” Boyens agrees.

  London buries her head in my chest and wraps her arms around me, and yeah, I wrap both of mine around her.

  Fuck it.

  “Mr. Links?”

  I look up at Garrison as Dad and I both answer, “Yes.”

  “Your truck and personal belongings are at the station’s impound.”

  I nod.

  “I would contact your insurance company and, as much as I know this is going to piss off the whole room, we do have to issue a ticket and fill out an accident report, for insurance purposes.”

  “Do whatever. I don’t give a damn.”

  While Dad talks with the police in the other room, I close my eyes and lean back. London holds on tight, and so do I.

  When I open my eyes, she’s still wrapped around me, sleeping. Jamie is next to her and Christy is on the floor, wrapped in a blanket.

  I look up and see Ava put her finger over her lips. “Shh...”

  I nod then carefully move out from under London, replacing me with an oversized pillow that she wraps her arms around in her sleep. I wait and watch to make sure she doesn’t wake up before heading out of the room to find the others.

  Lisa and her parents are at the island, talking to Dad, Brody, Emma, and Tessa.

  I walk over to Lisa, and she looks up.

  “Hey.”

  “Are they still asleep?” she asks.

  I nod.

  “Good. They need sleep.” She yawns.

  “Why don’t you go get some sleep, too?” I ask.

  “My parents think I should take the semester off; go home and try to figure out how to...” She pauses.

  “What good will that do?” I ask.

  “London’s going to, as well.”

  Brody’s words pull my attention from her.

  “Why would she do that?” I ask.

  “Because she needs her family,” he says rather calmly.

  “But she has her friends. She has—”

  “My little girl needs—”

  “Logan, she mentioned it, and we think it’s a good idea,” Emma says woefully.

  “Well, I think it’s a horrible idea,” I tell her. “I think that you know that, too. The shit she’s been through in the past, she didn’t let it change who she was—”

  “It’s been decided,” Brody snaps.

  When I turn to walk back into the family room to ask her if she’s actually going to give up, I hear Maddox say, “He’s in here.”

  I look toward the back entry and see Mitch and Keeka.

  Mitch looks like hell, and Keeka, who is normally as unemotional as they get, comes rushing toward me. When she gets to me, she’s still rushing, so I brace for the impact.

  “You didn’t answer your phone. I saw your truck on the news, and you didn’t answer your phone.”

  I start to explain, but she doesn’t stop talking.

  “Is Elle—I mean, London okay? Is everyone—”

  “We’re good, Keeks. We’re fine.”

  “Thank God,” she says, finally stepping back.

  I look at Mitch, who just shakes his head. I know he’s annoyed that I never told him about London.

  “Wasn’t for me to divulge, man,” I answer his unspoken question
.

  “I get that. Just feel like an idiot that I never put two and two together.” He gives me a bro hug then steps back and laughs. “Totally blown away.”

  I try to figure out what to say, but then I hear “Kashmir” by Led Zeppelin, my phone’s message ringtone sounding from somewhere.

  When Keeka opens her bag, it gets louder. “I snatched this from Black Betty.” She hands me my phone.

  “Thanks, Keeka.”

  I have over a hundred texts and almost as many missed calls.

  “Fuck,” I sigh.

  Mitch’s phone rings, and he answers it. “Hey, Coach.”

  I look away from my phone to him.

  “I’m here with him now.” He pauses. “He looks good, but you know, he’s Logan.” He looks up at me. “I’ll give him the message.” He pauses again then chuckles. “It’s true. She’s London.”

  “She’s to be left the fuck alone,” I tell him, not giving a damn what reason her name was brought into this.

  Mitch scowls, turns his back to me, and starts walking away. “Sure was him.”

  I look at Keeka, who’s staring at Brody. He looks up at the same time.

  “I’m just a concerned father today.”

  She nods then looks at me, eyes getting bigger.

  “It’s all chill, Keeks, I promise.”

  “It may not seem like it right now, but it is,” Lisa chimes in. She stands up and holds out her hand. “I’m Lisa.”

  “Elle’s—I mean, London’s roommate, right?” Keeka asks, shaking her hand, clearly confused.

  “Yeah.” Lisa nods and looks down. “For now.”

  “What do you mean, for now?” Keeka asks.

  “Lisa may be taking the rest of the semester off,” her mother, whose name I don’t know, tells Keeks.

  “Why?” Keeka asks in surprise.

  “To begin healing,” Lisa’s father answers.

  “Did she get hurt?” Keeka asks.

  “As a matter of fact, she did. She has seventeen stitches in her arm,” her mother answers.

  “But it’s emotionally we’re concerned with,” her father adds.