Logan's Story: A Sand & Clay Prequel Read online

  It was almost three in the morning, which meant he had to go to work. He felt conflicted on what to do, he wasn’t that jerk player type who left a woman alone in bed, but he couldn’t afford to miss a day of work. Although, the truth was that he didn’t know what to say to her. Last night had been amazing and he wasn’t sure if it was from riding the high of his performance on stage or the intoxication he felt when Gina was around him. In less than 24 hours, his entire life had been turned upside down and he was letting a woman actually get in his head.

  He cranked up the air conditioning in his car as he backed out of the parking spot and headed off to the warehouse. He might actually be on time tonight, which was ironic considering how busy his night had been. He didn’t even feel the need for a caffeine fix since his adrenaline was still coursing proudly through his veins. He was a little worried about the physical labor part of his job, since he was pretty sure what he and Gina had just done equated to several hours at the gym.

  He couldn’t help smiling at the memory though, remembering the feeling of her silky skin against his and the tremors that coursed through her body because of him. For a woman so obstinate and controlling, she relinquished a lot of her power in the bedroom and allowed Logan to take charge, a role he was more than willing to fill.

  He was still daydreaming about their nighttime acrobatics when he pulled up to his normal parking space at the warehouse and grabbed his shirt and brace from the backseat of his car. He glanced down at his phone briefly to see if there was a message from Gina as he was walking in, then quickly tucked it into his pocket, scolding himself for being so out of character. They had traded phone numbers last night, but no doubt Gina was still sleeping since the moon was still high over his head.

  “Logan, what the fuck are you doing here?” Joey asked, glancing up from his magazine, while propping his feet up on the warehouse counter.

  “What the fuck do you mean? I’m scheduled to work tonight.” Logan shot back, punching his time card in. Joey and he would never get along, but they did enjoy cracking on one another.

  “I know, but damn, you’re on time today.” Joey chuckled and went back to looking at his magazine.

  “Don’t get used to it.” Logan laughed back, then walked into the open part of the warehouse ready for a long shift of heavy work.

  Maybe one day, I won’t need a job like this... Logan thought briefly about the offer awaiting him in New York City, but then quickly pushed the thought from his mind. He couldn’t deal with the conflicted emotions around that right now.

  ~*~*~*~*~*~

  Almost dinner time, Logan could feel his stomach growling as he walked into his house after his shift ended. There was a strong, meaty aroma that hit him instantly and he practically floated toward the kitchen breathing it in like a life line. His father was standing over the stove, stirring up some freshly cooked beef stew. Mickey glanced at his son, saw the exhaustion on his face, and nodded his head to his boy. Clay men didn’t need to talk about their emotions, that just wasn’t done, but he was proud of Logan. The tired aching was a reward, in Mickey’s eyes, for hard work and a life well lived. Clay men didn’t do lazy.

  “Beer’s in the fridge.” He grunted at his son who gratefully swung open the door and popped the lid to an amber ale, chugging it down quickly. The cool sensation sliding down his throat was an amazing contrast to a twelve hour shift in the sun.

  “Where’s Mom?” Logan asked after a lengthy gulp and satisfied sigh, wiping his lips with his thumb.

  “Upstairs brushing her hair, she just finished bathing. Can you go bring her to dinner?” Mickey asked Logan as he portioned beef stew into bowls on top of rice. Logan just nodded and headed out of the kitchen, taking the adjourning staircase two steps at a time and heading down the hallway to the last door.

  “Mom?” Logan tapped on the door with his knuckles and walked in. Laura Clay was sitting at her makeup table, looking in the mirror at herself, and brushing her hair. She clearly was deep in thought and had not been expecting him. There were tears slowly working their way down her cheeks.

  “Logan! Oh, is dinner ready?” She asked him, attempting to be nonchalant and quickly covering her face and removing any evidence of her tears. Logan wasn’t so easily fooled and was by her side in a few quick steps. He didn’t say anything, just bent down on his knees and looked at her, his hand on her arm. Laura looked at her son and couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her face.

  “Look at my boy. So handsome. So tired.” His mother cupped his chin in her hand and lovingly tilted her head to the side as she surveyed her son.

  “I’m a burden to you, baby boy.” She said quietly after a moment of silence, looking at the darkening circles below his eyes. He had a way of making her open up without saying anything, his eyes were the key to her soul and had been since the first moment she held him in her arms.

  “Momma, that never has been, and never will be, true.” Logan spoke firmly with conviction and she smiled at him, her heart expanding with love for her son.

  “You ready for dinner, Mom?” Logan said, standing back up, having eased her worries. She put down her hairbrush on the table and took a tissue to blot below her eyes so Mickey wouldn’t know she had been crying.

  “Yep, I’ve been smelling it from up here. I’m famished!” She grinned at her son, her mood lifting. He nodded in agreement and bent down, sliding one hand behind her back and another behind her knees, scooping his mother into his arms and holding her firmly against his chest. She had always had a very small frame, so carrying her was not taxing in the slightest.

  “Thank you, Logan.” Laura said softly, looking at her son while her arms were wrapped around his neck for support.

  “It’s nothing, Momma. Easier than setting up the wheel chair and all that.” He said to her with a wink and a smile, as he carried her down the stairs to dinner. She hugged his neck tighter.

  “It’s everything.” She replied, so softly that Logan almost didn’t hear her. With those words and the earlier witness of her tears, Logan silently made a new conviction that he would go to New York no matter what.

  He had to do this for her.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Monday morning came and with it went the flurry of Friday night excitement, Logan groaned in pain as he lifted a particularly heavy box and piled it into the corner of an eighteen wheeler then headed back out onto the warehouse platform to collect more. Logan only had Sundays off and he had spent all of yesterday at home asleep or with his parents. His mother had had a particularly painful day, so he had played his guitar and sung to her as she laid on the couch cuddled against his father. Laura loved his music; anything that gave her time with her son. She had laid there, watching him with total adoration.

  Mickey had never been a huge fan of music. He was gruff and loved contact sports, anything that was physical, hard work, and could toughen a man by beating him down. That was how Mickey’s father had raised him and it was a philosophy he had stood by all his life until he had met the soft and sweet, Laura. Then the accident happened while Logan was still so young, and every bit of the Laura he loved disappeared with her ability to walk. For so long, a depression resided over the house, with all attempts to remedy it falling short.

  When their son first showed an interest in music a year or so later, Mickey encouraged it because those were Laura’s genes shining in his son and he couldn’t think of a single problem with that. He had so desperately missed that light in Laura’s eyes and now they were glowing through Logan’s. So, Mickey learned some basic guitar chords and taught them to his son and he worked extra shifts to afford music books and a ratty old acoustic guitar purchased at a yard sale. Like a moth to a flame, music suddenly became the epicenter of their household.

  Logan played from the moment he got home from school until it was time for bed and as time went on, Laura would ask more and more for Logan to come play for her. Without even realizing it, the music became tradition in their household. After dinne
r, his parents could gather in the living room and Mickey would softly caress his wife’s hair as she leaned against him, the first signs of affection and happiness that she had shown since the accident.

  At first they would critique Logan and help him improve, encouraging him to try more challenging pieces, but as he entered his late teen years they only needed to listen. He was brilliant and the music calmed Laura in a way that no other music could. Her chronic pain subsided and her insecurities took a back seat. All that mattered was her son and how much he loved her through his music. On the days where her pain was higher than usual, he would sit cross-legged on her bed and sing to her while playing the old acoustic guitar.

  Logan thought of yesterday as he was loading another box and worry flooded his stomach, like a brick weighing him down. Days like yesterday were happening much more frequently than before and although he tried to get answers out of his father after every doctor appointment, Mickey said nothing except that everything would be fine. But everything was not fine, and Logan could sense it in every fiber of his being. Doctor visits were closer together now, her pain was higher, and her energy lower. Mickey could live in denial all he wanted, but Logan knew that things were getting worse after over a decade of paralysis.

  Logan was working a longer than normal shift today and would miss dinner since he needed the extra income. He was the one who paid the bills and balanced the check book and with all the extra doctor visits and increased medications, it seemed that the amount going out far out shadowed the amount coming in. He needed to go to New York. He knew that, he knew he had no choice.

  How do I tell the guys? Logan thought as he stretched and walked over to the water fountain for a cool refresher. He had been dodging their calls and had left his phone at home to give himself an excuse for why he wasn’t’ responding. He knew that he had to see them at some point, so he planned on texting them once he got home to meet him at McGinny’s later on. He had to face the music at some point.

  ~*~*~*~*~*~

  McGinny’s looked desolate on a Monday night and only a few dedicated alcoholics filled one corner table and a few stools at the bar. It didn’t phase Logan in the least as he walked in and headed to the far end of the bar, away from the other patrons. He wanted the privacy tonight anyways. A scruffy, middle aged bartender walked over to Logan’s stool after a few minutes and poured him a Guinness without even asking. Logan nodded appreciatively at the gentleman, gathering that his face was probably easy to read tonight.

  A gust of warm air swept through the bar as the front door opened and Dylan, Rock, and Charlie plodded in looking tired from their own Monday work shifts. Logan quickly downed the rest of his beer for an extra shot of courage and waved them over.

  “Hey, man!” Rock slapped Logan on the back and lifted his leg over the barstool on Logan’s right, getting comfortable and leaning against the bar. Charlie just nodded at Logan and sat down next to Rock, he had always been the quiet one of the bunch.

  “Where the hell ya been, Logan? Been callin’ ya since Friday! You were banging that girl all weekend, weren’t you?” Dylan joked raucously, slapping the bar as her sat down to Logan’s left.

  “Bartender! Round of Guinness’ here for my boys! We’ve got some celebrating to do.” Dylan didn’t give Logan the chance to respond, which he was glad about. He didn’t want to lie and tell them he had avoided them all weekend. Dylan’s comments brought Gina to the forefront of his mind again and he felt a warmth pass through his body at the memory of her touch. He suddenly wished she was here with him.

  That thought surprised Logan, creeping up on him so easily. He had thought about her a lot over the last two days, but there was no room for her in his life right now. No room to fall into a relationship when he had his parents to care for and a potential new path in life with his music.

  “We are celebrating, right?” Dylan looked at Logan, worry in his eyes. Rock and Charlie leaned forward too, all eager to hear about the scout and crossing their fingers for good news. He felt sick to his stomach at the excitement on their faces.

  “Yeah, guys, we are celebrating. The scout loved the performance. He said you guys were good!” Logan told them the truth, even though he was omitting other details. He avoided eye contact and took a few swigs of his beer.

  “Fuck yeah we are good! The crowd was freaking the hell out on Friday! Did you see my drum solo? I thought my sticks were going to burst into flames!” Dylan championed, puffing his chest out and chugging the rest of his beer.

  “Hell, Logan was the one that had the crowd going nuts. Especially with that last song, man, that was a good pick, man.” Rock nodded at Logan.

  “Yeah, I agree. Friday was the best we’ve ever done.” Charlie chimed in, sipping his beer more slowly than his friends since he was the designated driver.

  “Hell yeah, it was.” Dylan grinned and picked up his second drink that the bartender had just dropped off.

  “So, what else did the scout say?” Charlie asked the question Logan had been dancing around. He sighed and looked around at them.

  “His name is Garrett Vile, he wants me to come to New York next week to play for the other record label executives at New York New Music.” Logan looked down at the bar and rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Dude, that’s awesome! We’re going to New York, baby!” Rock pumped his fist in the air and high-fived Charlie. Dylan narrowed his eyes and studied Logan’s expression. He had known Logan all his life, he knew what Logan was saying.

  “Rock, shut the fuck up. That’s not what he said.” Dylan said in a low, bitter tone. Rock and Charlie’s mood immediately deflated and they turned to look at Logan. Everyone was looking at Logan now and so he stood up off his barstool and backed up a few steps. Their glares were boring holes straight through him and he needed to collect himself.

  “Dylan’s right. They want me to come to New York. Alone.” Logan looked at his friends, pleading with his eyes for them to understand.

  “And you said that we are a band, not a one man show, right?” Rock spoke in an ominous tone.

  “I haven’t given them an answer yet. But, I need to go, guys. I can’t pass up this opportunity. You all know how much I need this.” Logan was walking back and forth, pacing, attempting to figure out a way to explain his decision. Dylan stood silently, his face expressionless and still. Not the case for Rock and Charlie.

  “You need this, Logan? Like you think we don’t?” Charlie’s fists were balled at his sides, Logan had never seen him angry before. He was always calm and collected, he had always had Logan’s back in the past.

  “There were four of us on that stage Friday, man. We aren’t just your fucking back up singers. We are a band. A fucking team, Logan.” Rock glared at him, pointing his finger accusatorially.

  “Come on, guys. It looks like Logan has made up his mind. Let’s get out of here.” Dylan said to the other band members and motioned toward the door. Still scowling at Logan, the two men followed Dylan as they headed toward the exit.

  “Tabs on you, Logan.” Dylan called back to him, as they walked outside and stuck Logan with the check. He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and threw some cash down on the bar, enough to cover their check and then some. He was angry, furious actually, and could only think of one thing as he yanked out his phone to type out a text.

  I’ll be there in fifteen. You better not be wearing anything.

  He stalked out of the bar and toward his car, replaying the conversation with his friends in his mind. He knew that they would be upset but he thought that they would have understood. They all knew he took care of his family, they had all met his parents. He knew it wasn’t fair, he knew they deserved the chance as much as he did, but would any of them have turned it down? He smacked the radio button, turning up the music angrily as he pulled out of the bar parking lot. He felt his pocket buzz and paused for a moment to read the screen, smiling when he saw her response and realizing instantly that his pants had become too tight.
/>   The door’s unlocked.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Logan broke at least three or four traffic and speed laws in his rush to get to Gina’s house. He ran up her front steps and swung her door open confidently, as if he had been there a million times. Closing it behind him, he instantly started shedding clothes as he walked to the bedroom eager to see Gina. He wanted to forget all about what happened tonight and he wanted to be with the woman who made him feel like a different person. Being with Gina was a window into a life he had stopped living years ago.

  He came to a complete halt when he reached the entry to her bedroom, caught off guard by the sight in front of him. Gina was stretched out across the bed, laying on her stomach and facing away from him. She was propped up on her elbows, reading a magazine and her one leg laying flat out behind her while the other was bent and dangling in the air above her. She was, as requested, entirely naked with only her jet black hair splayed across her back with hints of neon colors poking through.

  He dropped his shirt onto the bedroom floor beside him, making a small sound as the fabric hit the wooden floor. Gina looked over her shoulder nonchalantly at him and smiled, knowing from the look on his face that he was enjoying the view of her backside. He grinned and immediately rushed across the room toward her. She quickly flipped over onto her back, leaning on her elbows again to look at him, allowing herself to be on full display.

  “Stop right there, mister!” She said firmly and a bit loudly. Logan froze in surprise and looked at her, confusion etched across his face.

  “What’s wrong?” He asked, his eyes still stuck on her naked breasts.