Logan taps his chin thoughtfully. “Right. Well, here’s what is going to happen. First, I’m going to give your girlfriend my card. I’m also going to give my personal investigator this address. If I hear from either Carla or my PI that you’ve laid a hand on Emmaline, or Carla, I’ll be here within the hour. If you try to run, I’ll find you. And just so you understand what will happen when I find you--”
Logan takes a fistful of Ronnie’s wife beater at the chest and grips him. Ronnie raises both hands to try to pry himself free, but Logan is too strong. He pulls his right arm back and then seems to think for a second. “I almost forgot. Women beaters usually try not to leave visible bruises. Maybe I should show you how that feels.”
I hear the meaty impact before I even register Logan’s movement. He’s so fast. His arm blurs into Ronnie three times. Four times. Stomach, Ribs, Kidney, Stomach. Each punch is like a small explosion of force, and when Logan lets Ronnie go, he slumps to the floor, curled in on himself like a wounded animal, eyes wide with surprise.
My fists are balled at my side and I’m sucking in heavy breaths through my nose. The anger and rage toward Ronnie I’ve had to push down for what he’s done to my mom and now to me bursts out. I stomp toward him and kneel enough to punch him in the face, right below his eye. “And that’s what it feels like to get hit in the face,” I spit, standing and storming from the trailer.
A few seconds later, I feel Logan’s strong hands on my shoulders, rubbing and kneading. “You okay?’ He asks softly.
“Let’s just go,” I say.
It’s only when I’m in his car and driving away that I realize he’s not driving toward my place. “Where are we going?” I ask.
He’s staring at the road ahead, knuckles white on the steering wheel. “I need to blow off some steam. I figured you could too.”
My throat goes dry. Blow off steam? What’s he planning?We pull up to a place called Topspin Tennis Academy ten minutes later. I turn to him, frowning in confusion. “Tennis?” I ask.
“Yeah. Do you know how to play?”
I shake my head in disbelief. I’m still replaying the way I actually punched Ronnie in the face. I didn’t know how much I needed that. I realize Logan is still waiting for me to respond. “Yeah, actually. I was the number one on my team in high school and I used to play with a rec team in college.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Good.”
“It looks like they’re closed,” I say as we step out of the car. It’s a large, square building with an even larger building behind it. Indoor courts, I assume. Places like this are incredibly expensive to play at, let alone to enroll. But I’m guessing the price doesn’t even register on Logan’s radar.
“Good thing I have a key,” he says, dangling a set of keys in front of me. “My sister owns the place,” he says, unlocking the door and flicking the lights on.
We’re standing in the lobby. An empty reception desk and computer are to one side, and the far wall is lined with unstrung racquets, fitness clothing, shoes, racquet bags, and tennis balls.
I look down at the frumpy outfit I was wearing to wallow on the couch in when Logan came knocking at my door. If I had even the vaguest suspicion that I might see him, I probably would have spent all morning getting my makeup perfect and picking out the best outfit. It’s a testament to how preoccupied I was by Ronnie’s bullshit that I’m only now realizing how terrible I must look.
“Grab whatever you want and get changed,” he says, moving to a rack of clothes and grabbing himself a black dry-fit shirt and a pair of gray shorts.
“You’re not going to play in your suit?” I ask with a smirk.
He laughs. “I wasn’t planning on it. But if that would turn you on…”
I bite my lip, smiling as I run my finger along the expensive clothes. I can’t remember the last time I paid more than five dollars for a blouse, and even that is splurging for me. I’ve been putting everything into bills for so long that I’ve never really had a chance to treat myself to anything. Some of these tops are seventy dollars, and one of the tennis dresses is even marked at a hundred and twenty.
Logan notices the look on my face. “Don’t worry. I’ll pay my sister for whatever we take. I’m serious, treat yourself. Take as much as you like for later. We can drop it by your place tonight.”
I finally decide on an outfit that costs just over a hundred and fifty dollars including the shoes. Whether he said not to worry, I couldn’t bring myself to get anything too expensive. “Is there a changing room?” I ask.