"Someone named Raz?"

I looked at Becky for confirmation when I said his name. She nodded, but then Heather burst into laughter once again. "Are you kidding me? Raz has a girlfriend? That's great." Her eyes met Becky's once again. "Raz is a good guy, but I agree with Sam. Don't show that picture to him. He'd put that on a tee shirt and wear it to school. He doesn't get it sometimes."

"Yeah," Becky sighed. "You're right. But the picture was good, wasn't it?"

I nodded. "You did good, Becky."

"Thanks."

When Heather kept driving and she turned at all the right turns, I realized she knew where I used to live. I wanted to smack my forehead. Everyone knew where Mason and Logan lived. They had enough parties on the beach, even Becky had been there a few times, but never to the first floor of the house or the other two floors above. A few had been invited to the basement, but not to the top levels. That was reserved for a select few and when Heather parked in the driveway, her hand went to her seatbelt and I knew she had every intention of joining that small group who had seen the inside of the Kade museum.

"Uh," Becky watched as Heather got out of the car.

"Let's go." Heather slammed her door shut.

I was torn. Did I let them inside? I knew they wouldn't be welcomed, but Heather was already at the front door. She pushed it open and my decision was made for me.

I gestured at Becky. "Come on. Might as well see what's going on."

She grinned, and her cheeks flamed as she scrambled behind me. But then we were inside, and it was dead silent. Heather waited for us in the foyer. Her mouth had fallen open as she gazed around. Oh yes. I'd forgotten what the Kade mansion looked like to the virgin eyes.

"This place is an effing museum." She couldn't tear her eyes from the life-sized statue of a Greek goddess. "Is that real?"

I shrugged. My mom had bought it a month ago. She gushed over it when it was delivered so I figured it was real. My mom didn't know that Logan had taken a black marker to the backside of the statue and drawn a tramp stamp with an arrow pointing downwards that said, 'insert here.' The statue hadn't been moved since its arrival, but I knew when it was and Analise saw the added artwork, she'd go ballistic. I only hoped Logan would be here to see her reaction.

"Oh wow," Becky breathed out behind me. "This place is beautiful."

Heather snorted. "And we're not even past the foyer. You must think I live in a hole compared to this place and Monson's mansion."

"I liked your home."

It was the truth. When she searched me, Heather saw that I meant it. Her shoulders relaxed. "You're a good person, Sam."

I frowned. I was?

"I second that." Becky gave me a timid grin.

I was uncomfortable with the praise, but we heard a shriek from the kitchen, followed with the sounds of breaking dishes, and I chuckled. The uncomfortable feeling went away, and I was grounded again. I'd grown used to the chaos that surrounded Analise. "You guys should go. This could get ugly."

"Sam!"

Logan saw me and jogged down the hallway towards us. He grabbed my arm. "You need to come quick. Your mom's unhinged and my mom's making her fold. Helen's standing there, all cold as ice, and your mom can't shake her. It's awesome. Mason's stuck in the back corner. He couldn't get out, but we heard the door so I figured it was you."

"Sam," Heather called out.

Logan stopped and looked back. He was startled for a moment before a lewd grin covered his face. "Didn't see you there, Jax. Looking good." His eyes raked her up and down. "Real good."

Becky flushed beside her, but Heather rolled her eyes. "Eyes up here, Kade."

They stayed on her front, where her tight red shirt strained against her br**sts. The black bra could be seen through the shirt and the longer his gaze stayed on her, the tighter her shirt became. I knew she was getting annoyed, but then I saw some redness that started on her neck and traveled upwards.

Shock settled inside of me. Was there more than friendly annoyance between those two? But no, Heather was with that model tattoo guy…wasn't she?

She folded her arms over her chest. "Stop it, Logan!"

He grinned, cocky and so self-assured. "Heard a rumor about you today, Jax."

"Oh yeah?" She struck a defiant pose with her hand on her hip. "What was that?"

"That you and Channing aren't really an item, not yet anyway."

Her hand fell away from her hip, and she took a step back.

Was that true? Maybe there really was something going on between Heather and Logan, but I remembered Channing coming to my defense in the diner. He stopped the Broudou siblings from—from hurting Heather. In the moment, I thought he had come to my defense, but it had been for her. He always seemed to be there for her. I studied her and Logan for another second and then sighed. I hoped he knew what he was doing because I didn't want him to get hurt.

As Heather tossed her hair back and Logan's eyes lit up, something fell to the bottom of my gut. He liked her. I could see it, plain as day to me now, but I wouldn't let him get hurt. There was no way I would let Logan get hurt, not again, not like with Tate.

"Logan!"

I jumped at the shrill sound that came around the corner. Helen was calling.

He chuckled and grabbed my arm. "Come on, little Kade. Prepare to be entertained." Then he saluted Heather. "Off you go, Jax. You're always welcome in my bed, but not here. No fornicating allowed, her mom's rule. See you later."

Heather rolled her eyes and grabbed Becky's arm. "See you, Sam. Call me."

I nodded as she dragged Becky behind her. The door shut with a heavy thud behind them, but then Logan curved an arm around my waist. He didn't immediately take me to the kitchen. Instead, he held me in a hug for a moment and let out a deep sigh. His shoulders dropped and his head rested on my shoulder.

He'd been acting. The entire jovial side of him had been a facade. I hugged him back. "How bad is it?"

He flinched from the question but drew back. His wall fell and I reeled as I saw the torment in them. "It's not good, Sam. It's not going to get better either."

Oh no.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

When I walked into the room, everything was wrong. I knew it. I felt it. I could see it. Helen was impeccable. She was dressed in a white business suit with a skirt and matching high heels, a lethal tip at the end. Her hair was swept up in some fancy bun to the side, but it was the pressed red lips and the cold ice in her blue eyes that sent the first reverberations through me. The second wave was sent from James as he stood between the kitchen and dining room. He leaned against a counter with his tie undone and his shirt pulled from his pants. The suit looked like it could've come from a GQ magazine, but it was wrinkled and wrung into knots as he lifted his hands to ring out his collar. From how it was already loosened, I knew he'd been doing that more than a few times. Then the third repercussion hit me from my mother herself. She stopped her pacing when she saw me, but it wasn't warmth that came to her, it was the lack of it. Even Helen noted it with a snort. She extended her hand to me. "And the root of the problem has made her appearance."