Veronica Mars Fic: "Someday"
Well, never say never, but this will be my last VM fic for the foreseeable future. (Without more canon, my inspiration tends to dry up, and I already wrote my own definitive future fic with The Flipside. If that makes any sense.) I've really enjoyed writing in this fandom, and thanks to all my readers for the feedback and support and general awesomeness. You're the best. Special love and thanks to mcfeste for being such a wonderful beta and friend.
This is post-S3, and picks up not long after the finale. Logan deals with that pesky death threat. Veronica/Logan, Keith, Jake Kane. PG-13.
It comes a bit sooner than Logan expects.
He shifts and tries to stretch his limbs, which proves impossible in the confines of the Town Car trunk. At least when the Mexicans kidnapped him, they used a van.
The road dips, and Logan winces from the pain in his head. They’re heading farther and farther out of Neptune, away from home. Home he’ll probably never see again.
The panic he’s been keeping at bay claws free. There’s no air. He needs air. It’s too hot, too small. He gasps for breath in the darkness, his fists hammering. A cry echoes in his ears, and his cheeks are wet. He gulps in the foul air as his heart pounds. Over the drone of the engine, there’s a distinct rumbling.
Laughter.
*
Three days earlier
Lilly stares down from the wall, her eyes glowing eerily, and Logan swallows hard over the sudden lump.
Mr. Kane walks into the hallway and stops short. “Logan.” He says the word with both weary resignation and something close to affection. He looks heavier than Logan remembers, in every way.
“I just wanted to say hi.”
Taking a swig of wine from his glass, Mr. Kane half smiles. “Hi.”
“Is Mrs. Kane here?”
“No.”
Logan waits for more, but the silence draws out, and he realizes there must be nothing else to say on the subject. “I wanted to ask for a favour.”
“What kind of favour?” Jake leans a shoulder against the wall. Clearly Logan isn’t being invited to sit down.
“I think I might be in trouble with some people by the name of Sorokin. I heard you might know them.”
Mr. Kane straightens up almost imperceptibly. “And where did you hear that?”
“Word on the street.” The street being Mac.
“Sorry, but I don’t know anyone by that name. I hope you work it out.”
It’s what Logan had expected, but he figured it was worth a shot. “Yeah. Thanks.” He’s about to go, but he has one more thing to say. “I’m sorry.”
Mr. Kane stares for a long moment, a husk of a man. “For what?”
“Everything.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
They watch each other until Logan looks down at the tiled floor. He might as well go for broke. “Do you ever talk to him?”
“No.” The word sounds like it chokes.
“I wish I’d been able to say goodbye.”
“That makes two of us.” Mr. Kane drains his glass and turns away, his eyes dwelling on the image of his daughter for just a moment. In the archway to the living room, he pauses. “Take care of yourself, Logan.”
On his way out, Logan stops short when he notices the man in black lurking in the shadows. The man tips his head and closes the door behind him.
*
“Mars Investigations.” Keith answers the phone with a resignation that he can’t seem to hide.
“Keith. Sacks.”
“Jerry. How are things going over there?”
He pauses. “Fine, I guess. Not quite the same without you.”
“Well, you’ve adjusted before, so I’m sure you will again.” Keith still has to fight his gag reflex when he hears the words ‘Sheriff Van Lowe.’ “So what’s up?”
“There was a problem today at the Grand. A maid found a bed soaked with blood - pig’s blood, it turns out.”
“That’s going to need a lot of Spray ’n Wash. So what does this have to do with me?”
“It was Logan Echolls’ room. He's not talking, but someone’s clearly sending him a message. I know he was friendly with Veronica, so I just thought you might want the heads up.”
Keith sighs. “Thanks, Jerry. I appreciate it.”
“Sure thing, Keith. I guess I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah. See you.”
He puts the phone back in its cradle. Considering the fact that he only has one case to work on - straightforward divorce with a cheating husband and a busty secretary - he might as well see what trouble the kid’s gotten himself into now.
Logan answers the door to his suite after a few knocks. The last time Keith came to his door, Logan was in tears. This time his eyes are dry, but his whole body is tight with tension.
“Logan. How’s it going?”
Logan steps back and Keith takes the invitation. “Oh, you know. Every day’s a gift.” He picks up the remote and clicks off the explosions that appear to be decimating Los Angeles. “Have a seat.” Keith sinks onto the couch and Logan sits down a few feet away.
There’s only silence for a few moments. Logan clears his throat. “So…”
“What did you do?”
Logan’s smile is wry. “Should I be consulting my lawyer?”
“You don’t end up with a blood-covered bed unless you pester the wrong people.”
He blinks in surprise. “How did-”
“Doesn’t matter.” Keith gets up and walks into the bedroom. A new mattress has already been delivered, and the bed is made. He wonders if the Grand staff take these things in stride by now. “Is this the first warning?”
Logan makes a noise that Keith knows is defeat. “No. There was a noose hanging from my rearview mirror yesterday.”
“First a noose, now blood. Sounds serious.”
“Frankly, I was a little disappointed there was no horse’s head.”
Keith shakes his head and stands in front of Logan, still slumped on the couch. “This isn’t funny, Logan. Who’s doing this?”
“Russian mobsters by the name of Sorokin. I guess I pestered the number one son.”
“How?” It didn’t get much worse than the Sorokins.
“Beat the crap out of him.”
Naturally. “And why did you decide to rearrange - what was his name?”
“Gory.”
“Gory?”
“Unfortunate, isn’t it?”
“Okay, why did you rearrange Gory’s face?”
Logan shrugs and looks out at the balcony. “He owed someone an apology.”
“Who?”
“A friend. It’s not important.” He doesn’t look up. Won’t look up.
Keith sighs. He should have known. He sits down beside Logan. “So what are we going to do about this?”
*
Today
The cab seems to be catching every red, and Veronica tries not to be too impatient. She fails miserably. Her flight from D.C. was delayed, and now she’ll barely make it home before her dad does. She’s already accepted that there won’t be time for balloons and streamers and baking a birthday cake, but at least wants to beat him home from the office. A casual phone call earlier confirmed that he planned to work late on a new case.
A now-familiar feeling of guilt uncoils in her stomach. If it wasn’t for her, he’d still be sheriff. If it wasn’t for-
“Miss? Which way please?”
Veronica snaps back to attention. The driver regards her curiously in the rearview. “Sorry. Left.” The sun is low over the horizon, and Veronica looks at her watch for the umpteenth time.
A few minutes later, Veronica hurries into her complex. She’s only been gone three weeks, and is surprised to find that it’s good to be home. She drops her weekend bag at her feet and is fishing her key out when the door opens.
“Veronica!” Her father stands frozen in the doorway, his mouth curving into a smile. Backup races up and barks excitedly.
“Surprise! And you thought I forgot your birthday.” She throws herself into his arms and hugs him tightly.
“You got me, honey. You got me.” He steps back, and the smile fades. “I’m just on my way out. It’s this case I’m working on.”
Her excitement deflates. “It can’t wait? Your darling daughter, belle of the FBI ball, is home for less than forty-eight hours.”
“Sweetheart, it really can’t. I might be late, so don’t stay up. Tomorrow I’m all yours though, okay?”
“Okay.” She kisses him on the cheek and moves aside, scratching Backup behind the ears. “What’s the case?”
A strange expression passes over his face, and then he waves his hand. “Divorce. Typical stuff.” He smiles and hugs her again. “This is the best birthday present I could ask for. See you soon.” He takes a few steps before turning back. “Belle of the ball, huh?”
“You’d better believe it. I think I’ve only alienated half the class. The other half is totally Team Mars. Well, maybe a quarter. At least two people.”
Her father laughs, shaking his head as he walks away. Inside, Veronica kneels down so Backup can lick her face. She pets the dog idly, staring off into space. Her father’s lying, that much she knows. But why? What doesn’t he want her to know? She paces the living room and checks to see if any files are lying out.
Nothing.
She sits down in the armchair. She should just forget it. She’s probably being paranoid. It’s nothing.
Veronica jumps up and hurries to her room, digging out the GPS tracking system.
*
The salty breeze on his face is cool after the stifling trunk, and Logan licks his lips, his eyes drifting shut for a moment as he breathes the night air deeply. At least he gets to see the ocean again.
The men are all speaking in Russian, standing between their two cars and laughing heartily about something. They ignore him, and don’t seem concerned that he’s unrestrained. Logan takes a few steps towards the edge of the cliff to get a better view of the sea, which glimmers under the pale moon. He glances over his shoulder and sees one of the men making the shape of a woman’s breasts with his hands as the others cackle.
They don’t seem to be in any rush.
It wasn’t supposed to go down like this, of course. He was supposed to talk to them and make a peace offering, with Veronica’s father listening and watching and ready to spring into action. Logan had asked Gory for the meeting, but apparently Gory had other plans. Logan had been waiting for Mr. Mars in a grocery store parking lot when his car door had opened, and then there had been hands yanking and blossoming pain in his head. Then nothing until he woke up in the trunk.
He peers left and right, and sees only sea and coastline. He thinks they must be on private land, and that he’s going to die soon.
A cell phone rings, and the men grow silent as one of them answers it. Logan watches as the man nods and utters short Russian words. As the conversation ends, all the men swivel their heads to look at Logan.
He turns back to the water, moving to the edge of the sandy bluff, so the last thing he'll see won't be their sneers. His own breathing is as loud as the sea below, and as he waits for the bullet, he hears voices - Veronica’s clear among them. This must be what it’s like to die, to hear the echoes of regret. The wind gusts, and he thinks of his mother.
When the gunshots ring out, he instinctively drops to the ground, the dirt beneath him giving way. His feet kick at nothing as he scrabbles to hold on, and then Veronica’s there, grabbing his hand and crying out as they slide closer to the edge.
Their eyes lock, and Logan knows they’re both going to go over. “Let go!” Can’t take her with him, can’t, can’t, can’t. She grits her teeth and pulls, but he’s too heavy, and they’re falling-
The jolt makes his shoulder burn, and Logan looks up and sees Mr. Mars and another man desperately yanking them up. His stomach scrapes over the edge of the cliff, hands pulling on his collar, almost choking him. Back on solid ground, Logan sucks in as much air as he can as his head spins. He’s alive, and doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
Veronica’s father looks like he wants to kill her, but he pulls her close instead. She leans into her father, legs curled beneath her.
“Leo! We need another set of cuffs over here.”
The other man who pulled them up - he looks vaguely familiar, and Logan has a strange thought about Wang Chung - trots over to the other police deputies, who have the Russian men down on the ground. Two of the mobsters appear to be in extreme pain.
A strong hand squeezes Logan’s shoulder, and he looks up at Veronica’s father, who now stands with his arm around his daughter. “Okay?”
Logan nods and gets to his feet, his legs shaking only a little.
*
“Good thing you got there in time to see them snatch the kid.” Vinnie Van Lowe puffs on a cigar, apparently happy to let his men deal with the crime scene, now lit by revolving red beams and cruiser headlights. “And good thing you called us in. But your trusty daughter is always there to back you up, huh?”
Keith tamps down the flare of anger, reducing it to a simmer once more. Part of him is proud that Veronica followed him and the police cruisers up into the hills without being seen. But it is a very small part. “Good thing there was a body in the trunk of that other car. Kidnapping is one thing, but it’s going to be hard for them to weasel out of that one.”
“Indeed it will be, Keith. I have a funny feeling Gory Sorokin isn’t going to be too popular with his family after tonight. I think they’re going to be awfully busy holding onto their territory with half their crew enjoying our county’s luxury accommodation.”
Vinnie winks, and Keith knows that the Fitzpatricks will be taking advantage. The two families have been battling over the drug trade for years. He thinks that if Gory Sorokin manages to live after getting his family into jeopardy over what amounts to a schoolyard fight, that he’ll have more important things than Logan Echolls to worry about.
“Well, have a good night, Keith. Take care of that girl of yours.” Vinnie ambles off.
Keith rubs his head wearily and makes his birthday wish.
*
Veronica breathes in and out of her nose, her mouth a grim line. They sit in the back of an ambulance, side by side on one of the benches, waiting. Logan breaks the silence. “Thanks for saving my life.”
“I told you not to get involved. I told you he was connected. But you never listen.”
“I know.”
“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”
“He couldn’t just get away with it.” Not that. Of all his regrets, feeling Gory’s skin split beneath his knuckles isn’t one of them.
“It’s not worth dying over.”
Logan tries to make a joke. “Well, you did want me out of your life forever.”
Looking at him sharply, her voice is low. “No. Don’t do that.”
He runs his hand through his hair and winces. The bump on the back of his head is only getting bigger. “I know you don’t want me dead, Veronica. It’s fine, okay? You’ve got Piz now, and he’s a great guy.” He shrugs. “What the hell would you need me for?”
“I don’t know.”
It takes him a second to find his voice again. “So don’t worry about it. I get it.”
She’s quiet for a long time. “I don’t know, but I can’t stop.”
The bottom of his stomach drops away. “Veronica…”
“I’ve tried to make it easy.” Her eyes fill with tears, and she attempts a smile. “I’ve tried to ride the teacups.”
“It doesn’t have to be this hard.” He takes her hand, and she lets him. “I promise.”
“I don’t think we can make promises, Logan.”
He kisses her then, pressing their lips together gently. After a few heartbeats, Veronica’s nails dig into his skin, and she kisses him back.
This is post-S3, and picks up not long after the finale. Logan deals with that pesky death threat. Veronica/Logan, Keith, Jake Kane. PG-13.
It comes a bit sooner than Logan expects.
He shifts and tries to stretch his limbs, which proves impossible in the confines of the Town Car trunk. At least when the Mexicans kidnapped him, they used a van.
The road dips, and Logan winces from the pain in his head. They’re heading farther and farther out of Neptune, away from home. Home he’ll probably never see again.
The panic he’s been keeping at bay claws free. There’s no air. He needs air. It’s too hot, too small. He gasps for breath in the darkness, his fists hammering. A cry echoes in his ears, and his cheeks are wet. He gulps in the foul air as his heart pounds. Over the drone of the engine, there’s a distinct rumbling.
Laughter.
*
Three days earlier
Lilly stares down from the wall, her eyes glowing eerily, and Logan swallows hard over the sudden lump.
Mr. Kane walks into the hallway and stops short. “Logan.” He says the word with both weary resignation and something close to affection. He looks heavier than Logan remembers, in every way.
“I just wanted to say hi.”
Taking a swig of wine from his glass, Mr. Kane half smiles. “Hi.”
“Is Mrs. Kane here?”
“No.”
Logan waits for more, but the silence draws out, and he realizes there must be nothing else to say on the subject. “I wanted to ask for a favour.”
“What kind of favour?” Jake leans a shoulder against the wall. Clearly Logan isn’t being invited to sit down.
“I think I might be in trouble with some people by the name of Sorokin. I heard you might know them.”
Mr. Kane straightens up almost imperceptibly. “And where did you hear that?”
“Word on the street.” The street being Mac.
“Sorry, but I don’t know anyone by that name. I hope you work it out.”
It’s what Logan had expected, but he figured it was worth a shot. “Yeah. Thanks.” He’s about to go, but he has one more thing to say. “I’m sorry.”
Mr. Kane stares for a long moment, a husk of a man. “For what?”
“Everything.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
They watch each other until Logan looks down at the tiled floor. He might as well go for broke. “Do you ever talk to him?”
“No.” The word sounds like it chokes.
“I wish I’d been able to say goodbye.”
“That makes two of us.” Mr. Kane drains his glass and turns away, his eyes dwelling on the image of his daughter for just a moment. In the archway to the living room, he pauses. “Take care of yourself, Logan.”
On his way out, Logan stops short when he notices the man in black lurking in the shadows. The man tips his head and closes the door behind him.
*
“Mars Investigations.” Keith answers the phone with a resignation that he can’t seem to hide.
“Keith. Sacks.”
“Jerry. How are things going over there?”
He pauses. “Fine, I guess. Not quite the same without you.”
“Well, you’ve adjusted before, so I’m sure you will again.” Keith still has to fight his gag reflex when he hears the words ‘Sheriff Van Lowe.’ “So what’s up?”
“There was a problem today at the Grand. A maid found a bed soaked with blood - pig’s blood, it turns out.”
“That’s going to need a lot of Spray ’n Wash. So what does this have to do with me?”
“It was Logan Echolls’ room. He's not talking, but someone’s clearly sending him a message. I know he was friendly with Veronica, so I just thought you might want the heads up.”
Keith sighs. “Thanks, Jerry. I appreciate it.”
“Sure thing, Keith. I guess I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah. See you.”
He puts the phone back in its cradle. Considering the fact that he only has one case to work on - straightforward divorce with a cheating husband and a busty secretary - he might as well see what trouble the kid’s gotten himself into now.
Logan answers the door to his suite after a few knocks. The last time Keith came to his door, Logan was in tears. This time his eyes are dry, but his whole body is tight with tension.
“Logan. How’s it going?”
Logan steps back and Keith takes the invitation. “Oh, you know. Every day’s a gift.” He picks up the remote and clicks off the explosions that appear to be decimating Los Angeles. “Have a seat.” Keith sinks onto the couch and Logan sits down a few feet away.
There’s only silence for a few moments. Logan clears his throat. “So…”
“What did you do?”
Logan’s smile is wry. “Should I be consulting my lawyer?”
“You don’t end up with a blood-covered bed unless you pester the wrong people.”
He blinks in surprise. “How did-”
“Doesn’t matter.” Keith gets up and walks into the bedroom. A new mattress has already been delivered, and the bed is made. He wonders if the Grand staff take these things in stride by now. “Is this the first warning?”
Logan makes a noise that Keith knows is defeat. “No. There was a noose hanging from my rearview mirror yesterday.”
“First a noose, now blood. Sounds serious.”
“Frankly, I was a little disappointed there was no horse’s head.”
Keith shakes his head and stands in front of Logan, still slumped on the couch. “This isn’t funny, Logan. Who’s doing this?”
“Russian mobsters by the name of Sorokin. I guess I pestered the number one son.”
“How?” It didn’t get much worse than the Sorokins.
“Beat the crap out of him.”
Naturally. “And why did you decide to rearrange - what was his name?”
“Gory.”
“Gory?”
“Unfortunate, isn’t it?”
“Okay, why did you rearrange Gory’s face?”
Logan shrugs and looks out at the balcony. “He owed someone an apology.”
“Who?”
“A friend. It’s not important.” He doesn’t look up. Won’t look up.
Keith sighs. He should have known. He sits down beside Logan. “So what are we going to do about this?”
*
Today
The cab seems to be catching every red, and Veronica tries not to be too impatient. She fails miserably. Her flight from D.C. was delayed, and now she’ll barely make it home before her dad does. She’s already accepted that there won’t be time for balloons and streamers and baking a birthday cake, but at least wants to beat him home from the office. A casual phone call earlier confirmed that he planned to work late on a new case.
A now-familiar feeling of guilt uncoils in her stomach. If it wasn’t for her, he’d still be sheriff. If it wasn’t for-
“Miss? Which way please?”
Veronica snaps back to attention. The driver regards her curiously in the rearview. “Sorry. Left.” The sun is low over the horizon, and Veronica looks at her watch for the umpteenth time.
A few minutes later, Veronica hurries into her complex. She’s only been gone three weeks, and is surprised to find that it’s good to be home. She drops her weekend bag at her feet and is fishing her key out when the door opens.
“Veronica!” Her father stands frozen in the doorway, his mouth curving into a smile. Backup races up and barks excitedly.
“Surprise! And you thought I forgot your birthday.” She throws herself into his arms and hugs him tightly.
“You got me, honey. You got me.” He steps back, and the smile fades. “I’m just on my way out. It’s this case I’m working on.”
Her excitement deflates. “It can’t wait? Your darling daughter, belle of the FBI ball, is home for less than forty-eight hours.”
“Sweetheart, it really can’t. I might be late, so don’t stay up. Tomorrow I’m all yours though, okay?”
“Okay.” She kisses him on the cheek and moves aside, scratching Backup behind the ears. “What’s the case?”
A strange expression passes over his face, and then he waves his hand. “Divorce. Typical stuff.” He smiles and hugs her again. “This is the best birthday present I could ask for. See you soon.” He takes a few steps before turning back. “Belle of the ball, huh?”
“You’d better believe it. I think I’ve only alienated half the class. The other half is totally Team Mars. Well, maybe a quarter. At least two people.”
Her father laughs, shaking his head as he walks away. Inside, Veronica kneels down so Backup can lick her face. She pets the dog idly, staring off into space. Her father’s lying, that much she knows. But why? What doesn’t he want her to know? She paces the living room and checks to see if any files are lying out.
Nothing.
She sits down in the armchair. She should just forget it. She’s probably being paranoid. It’s nothing.
Veronica jumps up and hurries to her room, digging out the GPS tracking system.
*
The salty breeze on his face is cool after the stifling trunk, and Logan licks his lips, his eyes drifting shut for a moment as he breathes the night air deeply. At least he gets to see the ocean again.
The men are all speaking in Russian, standing between their two cars and laughing heartily about something. They ignore him, and don’t seem concerned that he’s unrestrained. Logan takes a few steps towards the edge of the cliff to get a better view of the sea, which glimmers under the pale moon. He glances over his shoulder and sees one of the men making the shape of a woman’s breasts with his hands as the others cackle.
They don’t seem to be in any rush.
It wasn’t supposed to go down like this, of course. He was supposed to talk to them and make a peace offering, with Veronica’s father listening and watching and ready to spring into action. Logan had asked Gory for the meeting, but apparently Gory had other plans. Logan had been waiting for Mr. Mars in a grocery store parking lot when his car door had opened, and then there had been hands yanking and blossoming pain in his head. Then nothing until he woke up in the trunk.
He peers left and right, and sees only sea and coastline. He thinks they must be on private land, and that he’s going to die soon.
A cell phone rings, and the men grow silent as one of them answers it. Logan watches as the man nods and utters short Russian words. As the conversation ends, all the men swivel their heads to look at Logan.
He turns back to the water, moving to the edge of the sandy bluff, so the last thing he'll see won't be their sneers. His own breathing is as loud as the sea below, and as he waits for the bullet, he hears voices - Veronica’s clear among them. This must be what it’s like to die, to hear the echoes of regret. The wind gusts, and he thinks of his mother.
When the gunshots ring out, he instinctively drops to the ground, the dirt beneath him giving way. His feet kick at nothing as he scrabbles to hold on, and then Veronica’s there, grabbing his hand and crying out as they slide closer to the edge.
Their eyes lock, and Logan knows they’re both going to go over. “Let go!” Can’t take her with him, can’t, can’t, can’t. She grits her teeth and pulls, but he’s too heavy, and they’re falling-
The jolt makes his shoulder burn, and Logan looks up and sees Mr. Mars and another man desperately yanking them up. His stomach scrapes over the edge of the cliff, hands pulling on his collar, almost choking him. Back on solid ground, Logan sucks in as much air as he can as his head spins. He’s alive, and doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
Veronica’s father looks like he wants to kill her, but he pulls her close instead. She leans into her father, legs curled beneath her.
“Leo! We need another set of cuffs over here.”
The other man who pulled them up - he looks vaguely familiar, and Logan has a strange thought about Wang Chung - trots over to the other police deputies, who have the Russian men down on the ground. Two of the mobsters appear to be in extreme pain.
A strong hand squeezes Logan’s shoulder, and he looks up at Veronica’s father, who now stands with his arm around his daughter. “Okay?”
Logan nods and gets to his feet, his legs shaking only a little.
*
“Good thing you got there in time to see them snatch the kid.” Vinnie Van Lowe puffs on a cigar, apparently happy to let his men deal with the crime scene, now lit by revolving red beams and cruiser headlights. “And good thing you called us in. But your trusty daughter is always there to back you up, huh?”
Keith tamps down the flare of anger, reducing it to a simmer once more. Part of him is proud that Veronica followed him and the police cruisers up into the hills without being seen. But it is a very small part. “Good thing there was a body in the trunk of that other car. Kidnapping is one thing, but it’s going to be hard for them to weasel out of that one.”
“Indeed it will be, Keith. I have a funny feeling Gory Sorokin isn’t going to be too popular with his family after tonight. I think they’re going to be awfully busy holding onto their territory with half their crew enjoying our county’s luxury accommodation.”
Vinnie winks, and Keith knows that the Fitzpatricks will be taking advantage. The two families have been battling over the drug trade for years. He thinks that if Gory Sorokin manages to live after getting his family into jeopardy over what amounts to a schoolyard fight, that he’ll have more important things than Logan Echolls to worry about.
“Well, have a good night, Keith. Take care of that girl of yours.” Vinnie ambles off.
Keith rubs his head wearily and makes his birthday wish.
*
Veronica breathes in and out of her nose, her mouth a grim line. They sit in the back of an ambulance, side by side on one of the benches, waiting. Logan breaks the silence. “Thanks for saving my life.”
“I told you not to get involved. I told you he was connected. But you never listen.”
“I know.”
“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”
“He couldn’t just get away with it.” Not that. Of all his regrets, feeling Gory’s skin split beneath his knuckles isn’t one of them.
“It’s not worth dying over.”
Logan tries to make a joke. “Well, you did want me out of your life forever.”
Looking at him sharply, her voice is low. “No. Don’t do that.”
He runs his hand through his hair and winces. The bump on the back of his head is only getting bigger. “I know you don’t want me dead, Veronica. It’s fine, okay? You’ve got Piz now, and he’s a great guy.” He shrugs. “What the hell would you need me for?”
“I don’t know.”
It takes him a second to find his voice again. “So don’t worry about it. I get it.”
She’s quiet for a long time. “I don’t know, but I can’t stop.”
The bottom of his stomach drops away. “Veronica…”
“I’ve tried to make it easy.” Her eyes fill with tears, and she attempts a smile. “I’ve tried to ride the teacups.”
“It doesn’t have to be this hard.” He takes her hand, and she lets him. “I promise.”
“I don’t think we can make promises, Logan.”
He kisses her then, pressing their lips together gently. After a few heartbeats, Veronica’s nails dig into his skin, and she kisses him back.