True Colors Part 11

His sharp laugh cut her off. "Alex, come on, is this some kind of joke? Did you Google me or something and find the news stories? Because this isn't funny."

"I'm not joking, Logan. You had a nightmare, and I . . . I had it, too."

"This is crazy. It's . . . it's just crazy. Does it have something to do with what happened to you yesterday? Because you're being weird again, like you were last night. It's freaking me out."

"You're freaked out. Try being in my head."

He knelt in front of her and reached for her hands to help her up, but she drew them back, hating the way his eyes narrowed and darkened as she did it.

He braced his hands on his thighs. "Look, this is . . . this is . . . h.e.l.l, we just need to take some breaths and get oriented."

"I am oriented. I'm empathic. Some kind of postcognitive or retro something or other. AnnaCoreen explained it in a way that I can't wrap my brain around enough to repeat at the moment-"

"Wait a minute. Did you say AnnaCoreen?"

"Yes."

"That's your sister's psychic friend?"

She nodded, hope taking root. "Yes. That's her. She's-"

"Did Noah put you up to this?"

"Noah? What? No, I-"

Logan laughed, but it wasn't amused, as he straightened. "That son of a b.i.t.c.h. He ribbed me yesterday about AnnaCoreen's c.r.a.p, and then, what, he called you up and got you to be in on the joke?"

"This isn't a joke."

He swung away from her to pace. "Oh, man, he got me. You both got me. I had no idea what a good actress you are-"

"Logan!"

He stopped and turned to face her. Anxiety etched deep lines in his forehead, and his eyes seemed to plead with her: Please tell me it's a joke.

"I'm not acting."

He shook his head, his expression anguished. "Alex . . ." "I'm sorry," she said softly, not sure why she was apologizing but feeling compelled. He just looked so . . . disappointed. And doubtful. He didn't believe her, and she was the one apologizing. Did that even make sense?

"We've got a good thing here," he replied, his voice low. "A really good thing. The best."

"I'm not trying to . . . mess it up. But you have a right to know that I can . . . that I've been inside your head."

"You know that what you're saying is impossible. Right?"

"I know it sounds impossible."

"No, it is. This is the stuff of TV shows and books and faux psychics who rip off tourists at the beach."

"That's what I thought, too."

"Alex, please. What are you doing?"

"I'm being honest. That's what you do when you love someone. You tell the truth."

He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his lips together before turning away. "Jesus," he murmured as he braced both hands on the dresser.

Alex swallowed, feeling shaken. He hadn't even noticed what she'd said. That's what you do when you love someone.

He needed time. That was all. Once he had some time to think, he'd remember that she wasn't a flake or a nut-case. Maybe they could go see AnnaCoreen together. For now, though, she thought she should back off, give him some s.p.a.ce. G.o.d knew she hadn't been ready and willing to accept the truth the first time she'd heard it.

She braced herself to speak normally even as emotions whirled through her. Don't leave me. G.o.d, please, please, don't leave me. "I'm . . ." Her voice cut out, and she took a breath and tried again. "I'm going to take a shower."

She didn't hear if he responded, because a roar had begun in her ears. He didn't try to stop her, didn't say, "No, wait, let's talk about it. Help me to understand."

He let her go.

Logan got into his truck and slammed the door shut. The sun glinted off the hood, and he squinted, remembering he'd left his sungla.s.ses sitting on Alex's kitchen table. f.u.c.k.

Instead of going back in to get them, he cranked the engine and backed out of her driveway. He knew exactly where to go for answers.

It took ten minutes to get to Charlie's. If anyone had an explanation for this madness, it was Alex's trusted sister.

When he rapped on the screen door, though, it was Noah's voice that called out permission to enter. Logan found the other man sprawled on the kitchen floor, his head disappearing into the cupboard under the sink.

"Gotta leak?" Logan asked.

Noah grunted. "Garbage disposal gave up the ghost this morning. I don't know what the f.u.c.k I'm doing, either." He scooted out and sat up, swiping a grimy hand through his sweaty hair. "You know anything about replacing garbage disposals?"

"That's what plumbers are for."

Noah scowled. "That's what Charlie said."

Logan glanced around, trying not to appear too impatient. "Is she here?"

"Nope. Got called into work on her day off again. Her boss is a slave driver."

"Mac Hunter? He was great about Alex's time off after the shooting."

"I just get the impression the guy depends too much on Charlie. He had a thing for her, you know. Back before . . . well, me."

Logan nodded, not at all interested in a.s.suaging Noah's insecurities. It's not like they were best buds. "So when do you expect her back?"

Noah angled his head to peer up at him as he wiped his grubby hands on a white dishcloth. "Why? What's up?"

"Nothing. I just need to talk to her."

"Is everything okay with Alex?"

Logan stiffened in spite of his effort not to. "Of course. Why wouldn't it be?"

"I'm just asking. No need to get your shorts in a knot." Noah pushed to his feet and dropped the filthy dish towel on the counter as he went to the fridge and pulled it open. "Want a beer?"

"Can't. I'm on duty in an hour."

Noah handed him a Sam Adams with a smirk. "I won't tell anyone."

Logan stared down at the beer in his hand while Noah jerked a chair out from the table and sat down with a groan. "You know any plumbers around here?"

Logan twisted the cap off the bottle and took a long swig. It felt cold and refres.h.i.+ng going down. Maybe the alcohol would clear his head. G.o.d knew he needed something to help him think.

"h.e.l.lo?"

Logan focused on an annoyed-looking Noah. "What?"

"Plumbers? Lake Avalon? Know of any? Maybe one I could call to come get this d.a.m.n thing fixed before Charlie gets home?"

"Oh. Sorry. My landlord takes care of all that stuff for me."

"Lucky b.a.s.t.a.r.d," Noah muttered.

Then, with a sigh, Noah pushed himself up, set aside his beer and crawled back under the sink. "Want to hand me that red doohickey with the teeth?"

Logan scanned the tools. Even he knew that red doohickey with the teeth was called a pipe wrench. "You're in way over your head."

"Just hand it over and shut the f.u.c.k up, would you?"

Logan slapped the wrench into Noah's waiting palm. He'd finish his beer and be on his way.

"So what's the problem?" Noah asked, his voice almost drowned out by the metallic clanking of the wrench as he tried to adjust its grip.

Logan hesitated to respond. Noah would laugh his a.s.s off. "There's no problem."

"Yeah? Then why stop by unannounced to talk to Charlie? You and Alex have a fight?"

"h.e.l.l, no." But the words sounded choked. Yeah, they'd had a fight. Their first. And who knew it'd be so soon after the first time they'd made such incredible love? And about something so . . . unbelievable?

"So you want to talk about it?" Noah asked, obviously out of his element in more ways than one.

Logan snorted. "What is this? Dr. Phil?"

"Charlie's not here, b.u.t.thead. If you want to talk to someone, I'm all you've got. Take it or leave it. I don't give a s.h.i.+t. Hey, you see a Phillips-head screwdriver out there somewhere?"

Logan spotted the tool and handed it over.

"So is it the psychic thing?" Noah asked.

Logan stilled, waiting for the other man to snicker. Jesus, he'd never hear the end of this. But Noah said nothing, pipes rattling as he worked, as though they were discussing the chances of the Miami Heat making it to the NBA finals.

"Because, you know," Noah said, "I was pretty freaked out when I found out about Charlie."

Logan plopped back down onto the chair, all the air leaving his lungs. "Charlie's psychic, too?"

"The technical term is empathic. But, yeah."

Logan rubbed at his eyes. The whole world had gone screaming insane. "Cue The Twilight Zone theme."

Noah scooted out from under the sink and sat up. "You don't buy it?"

"h.e.l.l no. Do you?"

"Yeah, I do."

"It doesn't make sense. I mean, she said she tapped into my dream. Don't you think that's . . . odd?"

"Only if it wasn't your dream."

Logan didn't know what to say to that as an image flashed through his head of a dirty six-year-old boy sprawled on a filthy, scarred hardwood floor with a bullet wound in his chest.

"It's not possible," he said, more to himself than to Noah. "She found out somehow and instead of just confronting me, she cooked up this . . . this twisted scenario to . . . to . . ." To what? He didn't even know.

"You think Alex is that manipulative?"

"No, of course not." d.a.m.n it, Logan didn't know what to think. Nothing made sense anymore.

"What did she find out?" Noah asked, as casually as he'd offered Logan a beer earlier.

Dropping his head back, Logan dragged his hands through his hair. "f.u.c.k." No way did he plan to share that info with anyone.

Noah clearly got the message, because he moved on. "You trust Alex, don't you?"

"Yes, d.a.m.n it. Of course I trust her."

"Then why don't you believe her?"

"Because it's not possible. That s.h.i.+t doesn't exist."

Noah pushed to his feet. "There's someone we need to go see."

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

In the shower, Alex tried to shove Logan from her mind. She'd have to figure out a way to deal later, depending on what he did next. He'd either come back to her or not. Instead of obsessing about which it would be, she'd decided to pay a visit to her mother to ask some key questions about their psychic history. Charlie might not have any luck having a conversation with the woman, but Alex could usually cajole something out of her. Probably because she knew how to avoid the b.u.t.ton on her forehead that said "push here to irritate the h.e.l.l out of me." Charlie seemed to live to poke that b.u.t.ton, something Alex never understood. Yes, their mother could be cold and unemotional, but she was their mother. A little respect went a long way.