Page 14 of Consuming Logan

“And now that you two have the facts out of the way,” his father, Robert Lee, said solemnly, “can we celebrate my son’s upcoming wedding?”

His mother spun to face Robert Lee. “Do you always have to side with him, Lee? How am I the bad one, here?”

Maybe, because she rarely did anything that didn’t benefit her, first. Gosh, his mother acted insane at times. Thank goodness his father’s presence combatted a modicum of the lunacy that was his mother.

“You want an answer?” Logan growled.

And the all-seeing eye was back on him. As a kid his mother’s beauty—porcelain smooth skin, lush golden hair, and generous affection had enthralled him. His father had looked on his young wife with a love that bordered idolatry. That was over now. The once tranquil blue of his mother’s irises had been obliterated by self-importance and years of belligerence. This woman resembled the loving mother of his youth, but she, like her beauty, had been tainted. Their relationship had been reduced to a series of verbal exchanges, most of them sharp enough to draw blood.

“What I want you to answer is why Kylie called me. You refused to let her cover the wedding? Then why am I doing all this?” she gestured to the expansive room.

“For me,” he rumbled.

“Huh,” Maribelle glared at Ava, “I taught you better. She’s influenced you, hasn’t she?”

Next to him, Ava went ridged. Not with fear, no. The air actually heated around her. Think Phoenix from the X-Men unleashing level five mutant powers. Logan sensing the epic battle on the horizon, squeezed Ava’s hand in a show of solidarity.

“Damn it, mom.” Red exploded in his vision. For the first time in his life he wanted to pick his mom up, deposit her outside, and lock the door. He struggled to maintain control. Several of their guests gave their tense circle the side eye, so he couldn’t lose his shit. If his mother persisted, shit would be lost.

Ava shook off his hand.

“Our wedding is for Logan and me to proclaim our love before God. Not for a headline.”

“Bless your naive heart,” Maribelle mused, a twisted smirk on her cosmetically resurfaced skin. “No one asked your opinion.”

Ava blinked. Then, she blinked again. Oh, shit. Logan knew this look. She was furious and struggling to contain her emotions.

“Belle,” Robert Lee hissed. “Shut up.”

Logan stepped forward ready to do battle. Ava avoided confrontation with his mother out of respect. Those good girl Southern roots ran true and deep in her family. Logan didn’t give a damn. Respect had to be earned. His temper ignited as fast as his mother’s and he welcomed the burning fury. To his surprise, Ava interjected.

“If I see that reporter anywhere near my wedding, you both can watch the ceremony from outside.”

Color rose in his mom’s cheeks. “Excuse me, young lady,” she said, indignant, “No one will keep me from my son’s wedding.”

“Two or three able-bodied bouncers can be arranged.” Looking to him, Ava asked, “I need to find my parents. Where’s our table, Logan?” She asked giving nothing away physically, but he heard the tension in her voice.

“If I’m removed from your illustrious guest list,” her tone dripping with condescension, “there won’t be a wedding.” Maribelle’s voice climbed the decibel scale, the rate of release not allowing for interruption. “The club, cancelled. The penthouse suite, cancelled. The botanical gardens, cancelled. The caterers, cancelled.”

Normally Logan strategized a level approach to dealing with the woman who’d given him life. Not tonight.

“Mother if you try anything—.”

Not a second later, Ava’s palm flattened against his chest. “I got this.” He watched as his cuddly kitten transformed into a lioness. “Fine by me. While you’re at it,” Ava said through pursed lips, “cancel yourself. Email me a confirmation; I wouldn’t want your return… cancelled.”

Maribelle gasped. The steam engine that powered her mood boiled with fury. His father hung his head. “When will you learn, Belle?”

“Logan,” Ava called his name, her tone firm and in command. “Let’s take our seats. I won’t be here long.”

Logan didn’t miss how she trapped her lip between her teeth, stroking that old wound. The scar Marcus’s fist had caused. Ava resorted to the habit when she felt threatened or uncomfortable. Before he turned to leave, he gave Maribelle a pointed stare. “Don’t ever dismiss Ava. Consider this your warning.”

Logan pulled Ava closer and slid his hands down to her hips. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she breathed. When Ava wrapped her arms around him, he relaxed. “Let’s just make the announcement and go home.”

“You sure?”

She smiled up at him. “Positive.”