Logan Kade Page 50

He nodded, looking forward again. His head rested back against his seat. “I swung first, so there was a meeting about me. They were going to kick me out, but my dad came in and did what he always does. He paid big for them to keep me. The assholes got off scot-free. It was five on one, but they got it twisted around on me.”

“Who?” My heart pounded at the thought of five guys going against Logan. I wanted to find them and beat their asses back.

His head still rested against his seat, but he turned to grin at me. “You going to take them on?”

I shrugged. “Maybe. I could hire someone. If I could get away with it.”

He laughed, but the sound was almost sad. “It was the guy your buddy worked for, Park Sebastian. He’s gone now. Mason ran him off.”

“Oh.” I frowned.

Logan gestured to the gate. “My dad was on the way out of town after that when he got lost. He drove himself that day, for some reason, and he ended up here. He had visions of a new factory or business or fuck if I know, and two months later he told us he’d bought this place.” He pointed to the houses. “Those too. I have no clue what he’s going to do with it, but it’s empty and abandoned for the next couple of months until all the permits are approved. I think he’s going to demo the whole place.”

All of this told me one thing: Logan was rich. Not just rich. He was rich rich, super-wealthy rich. He never acted like it. I’d thought I was the one with an inheritance, but it was nothing compared to what he described. I wasn’t sure what to say.

“Oh.”

That was it from me.

Logan laughed again. “I’m waiting for the guy to come let us in.”

“You come here?”

“Sometimes. It’s kinda cool in there, actually, and there’s one place I like to go. I usually just climb up and over, but I figured I’d be the gentleman this time and legally enter.” His eyes warmed as they lingered on me. “Do I get points for this? Being all nice and shit? Or do you want me to go badass and break into the place? Either’s good with me.”

Yep. I felt a flutter in my chest. Oh boy. But I only smiled. I’d been feeling those flutters all month now. “A badass and a gentleman. Suppose I should just answer that with, ‘you’re too kind, sir.’”

“Sir. I’d rather be called dipshit than sir.” He grimaced. “All my dad’s minions call him that.”

My smile faded. I’d been teasing. He knew that, but I could hear the anger from him. It sounded deeper than mine, and I wondered how long it had been there. “You said before that your dad and Samantha’s mom are together?”

“Yep.” He shook his head. “If you think your dad’s bad, you should meet Analise. That’s Samantha’s mom. She’s a piece of work.”

I frowned. He wasn’t angry with her; it was all directed at his dad. I wanted to ask more. I wanted to know more, what was hurting him, but I held my tongue. We weren’t—I didn’t know, but I didn’t think we were there. I hadn’t told him my own hauntings, so I had no place asking his.

“Good. The guy’s here.”

A car pulled up next to us. Logan opened his window and leaned over to talk, then a guy got out of the other car and went over to the gate. After a moment, it rattled open for us. He handed something to Logan through the window before getting back in his car. With a short wave, he drove off, and Logan pulled inside.

The buildings were all there, just like I remembered, but they had aged like the houses outside. Paint had peeled. Doors were rotted. Windows. Panels. The foliage had started to grow over things. The ticket booth was encased in a bunch of bushes. Trash blew over the ground.

I was entranced.

“My mom—” My voice hitched on the memory. “—she took me here a lot. Me and Claire. Jason came with us once in seventh grade, but that was it. It closed the summer after that.” I shook my head. “I never heard what happened to it. It’s been empty this whole time?”

Logan pocketed his keys as we got out. “I guess. My dad brought in some people. They cleaned up some of the graffiti.”

The old paintings were still there, but after he said that, I could see where white had been painted over parts of everything. “This is surreal, Logan. I can’t believe your dad owns this place now.”

He snorted. “He’ll build something, and then he’ll probably sell it. He won’t have it for too long.”

“Are the buildings safe to go into?” I started forward, moving past the bumper cars, the arcade, the kissing booth, the haunted house, the animal barn. I remembered everything. A large tiger had been painted on top of the building, but the middle of its face was whited out now.

Logan stopped beside me. “Some asshole painted a cock up there.” He was holding back a grin. I saw his mouth twitch.

“Don’t laugh. That tiger was gorgeous.”

“Sorry. I don’t get sentimental about places anymore.”

“This was part of my childhood.” I couldn’t stop taking everything in. The pink flamingo statue was covered with vines. “How can you not get sentimental about places like this?”

Logan shrugged. “I don’t get attached to places. I was always moving and living in different places in high school.”

“You were?”

He nodded, and suddenly he was the one looking around, and I couldn’t look anywhere but at him. “We were at the house in Fallen Crest when my mom left. I stayed with my aunt and cousins for that summer. Then Sam’s mom moved in, and everything changed. We lived in a hotel for a while, then Nate’s parent’s house. I think we lived somewhere after that too. My mom moved back to town—oh, I was in Paris with her for a month. When she moved back, I went to live with her. Sort of… I felt like I was half living with her and half living at Sam’s house our senior year. I guess that was the last place I lived before going to Cain. And we had a different house my freshman year.”

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