Free Shatter (St. Martin Family Saga) by Gina Watson

Tallahassee, Florida, to rest. He pulled in at a McDonald’s and fell asleep. When he woke it was ten o’clock in the morning, so he pulled up to the drive-thru window for coffee. Then he headed east, stopping only for fuel until he reached the beach cabin on the eastern coast of Florida, in St. Augustine. It had belonged to his parents. To Dave and Anne.
    Logan pulled up to the cabin that sat at the water’s edge and killed the engine. He had so many good memories that centered around this little cabin. He remembered catching kingfish with his father and learning to gut, clean, and grill them. They’d take the kayaks out and come back with a haul. One time Logan had caught a twenty-eight pounder. They’d flown kites and eaten rainbow snow cones, his father always gobbling his snow cone too fast, resulting in him grabbing his head and crying out, “Brain freeze!”
    Logan started to walk the beach. He had no idea how long he walked. At sunset he turned and walked back. When he reached the beach house, he climbed the steps leading to the large deck and collapsed in an Adirondack chair. Exhausted in body and mind, he fell asleep on the back porch.
    He awoke to rain stinging his face. He squinted one eye open and stared directly into the overhead sun. He’d always hated sun showers—to him each party seemed only partially committed to their purpose. He blinked and sat up.
    “Fuck!”
    His back screamed from the position it had been subjected to for over twelve hours. But that was nothing compared to the way his mind roared at the reality his father had unleashed two days earlier, at the decisions he had made then and those he’d made twenty years ago.
    And at the decisions Logan himself had made, decisions he swore were the best for all involved.

6

     
     
    I t had been two days since Jessie had heard from Logan. It was bad enough she couldn’t stop thinking about him, but she also had to endure Michael’s incessant questioning regarding his whereabouts. She’d caught her son crying and when she asked what was wrong, he’d asked her why nobody wanted to be his daddy. It had crushed her to tell him she didn’t know, but she wanted to always be honest with her son and the truth of it all was, she’d no idea herself if Logan would ever be back. She’d texted him twice, called both his cell and the brewery, but she couldn’t reach him. She’d thought maybe something had happened to his dad or one of his brothers, and that’s why she’d decided to go to The Good Doctor Brewery.
    They were doing a brisk business when she pulled up. She wondered if he was in there and choosing to ignore her. She wasn’t usually so quick to think the worst, but she was emotionally charged around Logan and couldn’t silence the thoughts. She felt the bile rise in her throat as she wondered what she could have done or said to upset him, something bad enough that he hadn’t simply told her goodbye in person. She wanted answers, but she refused to create a spectacle. She took several deep breaths, exited her car, and walked in on shaky legs. She did a quick survey, but saw no sign of Logan. A tall guy with shaggy light brown hair, piercing blue eyes, and a bunch of tattoos worked the bar. She headed toward him.
    The handsome bartender greeted her and asked, “What can I get you?”
    He had a mouth shaped like Logan’s, and his slightly crooked smile with the large white teeth was familiar. “Um, I’m looking for Logan. Do you know where he is?”
    The man whistled noisily through his teeth, then dropped two shot glasses on the bar, saying, “Gonna need something stronger than beer.” He pulled a bottle of platinum Patron from below the counter, along with a bowl of limes. He filled the glasses and slid one in front of Jessie. “Bottoms up.”
    She wasn’t sure what she was in for, but she said, “Oh, what the hell,” picked up the shot and slammed it, finishing it off with a lime wedge.
    The attractive man watched her and