One Moment

by Elizabeth Savino

  I’m putting that all out of my head for now and looking through some of Graces boxes. Trying really really hard not to have a breakdown of any variety which will result in hours of crying. Just focusing on the task Logan gave me. Find a picture of John. The asshole. My ex. The other asshole. And give it to him.

  Honestly, I am relieved that I don’t have to worry about buying a car or truck or anything just yet. Relieved to have transportation to get me to town and back.

  This morning, after Logan had dropped off Cody at school he stopped by and told me that Darren and his crew would be by to install an alarm. This was followed by a hot, panty melting make out session. Last night he reluctantly let me sleep in my cottage, telling me to lock up and call if I needed anything. He called me twice and texted me this morning letting me know the alarm would be installed today.

  I decided to save my argument for when Logan showed up at my front door. I tried to state my point that installing an alarm wasn’t necessary. He pulled me close with his hand behind my neck. His other hand cupping my cheek so I had to look up into his beautiful face. His voice got gruff when he stated, “I protect what’s mine Laura. Better get used to that darlin’.”

  Then he gave me a bone melting kiss that screamed “possession” and left. The fierceness in his kiss shocked me, it’s almost like he was going to go all caveman on me. And I have to say, it was HOT! I was looking forward to where the kiss was heading, but Logan cut it short with a quick kiss on my nose and left.

  I think I was born in the wrong era. I like that Logan thinks I belong to him, it warms me in a way I was never warm before. Women who fought hard for the women’s movement would throw their bras at me in disgust. It’s not that I don’t agree with the issues they support, it’s just that I want to be taken care of right now by Logan. I like that he thinks of me as his, a possession.

  Darren Clayton is here doing the main installation of the alarm. Although he and his brothers own Claytons bar, Darren is supposed to be the best of the best in security.

  He definitely has the build of a bodyguard. At six foot four, and a body solid as a rock. You can see through the body hugging tee shirts he wears that there isn’t an ounce of fat on his entire body. I almost want to offer him a candy bar to see if he will have an anaphylactic fit if it touches him. His brothers are a little leaner than him. But just as sturdy looking.

  Darren has black hair and piercing green eyes. When we were at Claytons, even in my inebriated state I noticed many of the girls swooning, leaving phone numbers on napkins hoping for a chance, or a night. Bashfully he would return their smile, which (I think, as would any breathing female in his vicinity) made him more endearing. He seems to be the quieter one of the Clayton brothers.

  If I had to guess I would say in a past life (meaning before the bar) he worked as some sort of security expert. I sort of pieced this together when Logan and Darren were talking about the installation of the alarm. They were referring to a different job that Darren had done in the past. Quickly tuning that out after a few minutes because most of what I understood was “blah, blah, alarm, blah, blah, Darren will teach you how to use it.” But we’ll go over it to make sure you got it. Then Logan left.

  Later, while procrastinating from my task at hand, I tried to make small talk after moseying into the kitchen for a quick snack (read: cookies). Darren was very serious about the installation at hand and wasn’t up for conversation. He was still polite and tried to listen while doing his thing. I let him off the hook with my blabbering and decided to get it over with and start looking. Pictures. Boxes. Memories.

  Logan obviously trusts Darren to do his thing, so I will too. I’m on a mission to find pictures as fast as possible, so I’m not even thinking about the alarm that’s being installed. Or why I need an alarm in the first place. Some people may call it denial. I’m just ignoring it.

  All right! Yeah, denial.

  A while ago Darren had knocked on my bedroom door and told me he was going to be installing whatever it is he is installing in the bedroom. I let him in and went back into the closet, and closed the door. I sat on the floor to continue my search. Deciding while I’m doing this that I may as well suck it up and try to go through some of these

  boxes too, so two birds one stone.

  So here I sit in front of the biggest box I packed, all full of Grace’s personal files, notes, and belongings. I take a deep breath, let it out slow. Closing my eyes tight I tell myself I can do this. I can do this. It sucks. Life sometimes sucks. I manage to pull myself together and open the box that has been sitting in front of me.

  As I start to gently flip through the contents I get lost in the pictures, notes and memories that she obviously felt important enough to save. Movie tickets, concert tickets. I remember some of them we went to together. Others are her memories that I wasn’t a part of, memories and stories that are now lost forever.

  Something interesting catches my attention. It’s the box from a baby book. But I know it’s not Ellie’s. Ellie had Noah ark animals on hers. This one is all pink with bows.

  Curious I lift the pink lid, inside is a book that doesn’t belong in this pretty pink box. A thick bound black leather journal. Feeling the soft leather with my finger, gently I flip it open it and see there are names, dates, drop locations, phone numbers; the rest is scribble to me and I don’t understand it. First thing I find strange is that it is in a man’s handwriting. I flip further through the book and there are dates written down that have not passed yet. Then further towards the back is a list of addresses. There is a flash drive taped to the back cover.

  Sticking out of the back page is two envelopes. What I see on the front of the envelope makes my heart stop, and I silently gasp. One has my name on it the other has Ellie’s. In Graces loopy script.

  I close my eyes and force myself to take a deep breath. When I feel like I have a little semblance, I open my eyes.

  With shaking hands I start to open my envelope. A letter to me from Grace. I’m totally confused. I flip over the envelope without thinking further about it, I carefully open the envelope and pull out the letter.

  Sept 18, 2016

  Dear Laura

  My baby sister. I decided to write this letter to you on a whim. First I want you to know how much I love you. You are the best little sister anybody could ever ask for. I am blessed that I got stuck with you.

  If you are reading this I am assuming that my thoughts about John were correct. I took this journal from him. I know this contains information he doesn’t want anyone to find or know. I knew something wasn’t right with him, but always thought maybe I could find the good in him. Fix him, make him a better man. Then when I got pregnant I knew that I had to either straighten him out, or get out.

  Well, you know I got out. And I love you even more for accepting me and Ellie without question, well maybe some questions (haha), but with open arms. The facts remain that I took this journal and flash drive. I took it as a security for Ellie. I think that the information that is written in here could put him and his creepy (as you say) friends away for a long time. He went ballistic when he couldn’t find it.

  I think that is why he always made his presence known. He always asked if I knew where it was. I obviously acted like I knew nothing of what he was talking about. I know he didn’t believe me. I just knew I could never give this back to him. I never opened the flash drive, but am assuming it’s important.

  Please take care of my little girl. I never knew love like I did until I looked into her eyes, held her little hand in mine. You helped me raise her to be the beautiful girl she is. Always tell her that mommy loves her so much.

  Find someone to give this journal and flash drive to. Someone you trust. John has “friends” in all places. I don’t know how far his friendships flow, so make sure it’s to someone you absolutely trust. I will try to research that myself, and add that information. I am worried about this, have tried to keep this mess to myself and am trying to fix it.

 
; Like Mom always said, ‘you made your bed, now you have to lie in it.’ I feel like I made this bed, and brought you and Ellie into it, so I promise to try my best to right this wrong. I hope, no pray I can. But I am writing this because I feel like I am over my head, with a sinking feeling that I can’t seem to shake.

  Hopefully we can laugh about this letter when we are old and grey together. Drinking tea on our patio while watching our grandkids run around.

  But if not, if you are reading this I know you will do what you have to do to protect Ellie.

  I love you. Always will. Always did, even when you cut my hair with the play scissors. Even when you painted my Barbie’s face with nail polish. Even when you told Mom that I kissed Brian Nansky behind the bleachers. Even when we fought. You’re the best sister ever. No better sister exists. I love you with all my heart.

  Love you. Always.

  Your big sister,

  Grace

  I couldn’t help the sob that broke from my body. It was soul wrenching. I clutched that letter to my chest like it was my lifeline. She wrote it shortly before the accident.

  She knew.

  She knew he was a bastard.

  A monster.

  He killed them. I know it.

  All for a stupid mother fuckin’ journal.

  I wish she never took it.

  I grab onto the letter intended for Ellie. Afraid it will vanish into thin air if I don’t hold onto it. I can’t even think about opening that now. That was my Grace, always planning ahead.

  I’m startled when the closet door burst open. I look up at a man who is alert and ready to battle whatever is causing me this anguish. I don’t even flinch at this point I don’t even care if the house collapsed around me. I sit motionless sobbing. I feel his strong arms around me but I can’t even breath at this point, let alone care that he is here witnessing my complete breakdown.

  After Darren assesses that there is nobody in the closet that caused me harm, he narrows his gaze on me, looking me over, “Laura, are you hurt?” Darren asks gently, concern lacing his voice. I am unable to reply, I just continue to stare at Darren with my mouth opening and closing, no words forming. Without waiting for my reply he starts to feel my head and arms looking for some sort of injury.

  “Honey, you’re scaring me. Breathe.”

  “I…..I…..I…..can’t,” I mouth gasping for air. Darren quickly picks me up off the floor and carries me into the bedroom.

  Grabbing my face and bringing it close to his. He snaps at me. I try to look at his face. “Follow what I do. Deep breath in.”

  I try to focus on what he is saying to me. It’s impossible, I can’t pull any air into my lungs.

  I’m getting dizzy. Dots are swirling in front of my eyes. I feel like I’m going to pass out, and I welcome it. I don’t want this pain anymore.

  Darren grasps me a little tighter giving me a little shake to gain his attention, “Laura, don’t you dare pass out on me. Logan will have my head. Breathe honey, deep. Again.”

  One of Darren’s large hands is cradling my head, holding my face close to his. His other hand is holding my hand over his chest so I can feel him breathing. I am sitting on his lap, on my bed.

  I stare at his eyes. They are really pretty, even unfocused. A beautiful green, the color of grass. Nice thing to see before I die from lack of oxygen, although I’d much rather it be Logan face I’m looking at.

  My body painfully forces my lungs to take in some much needed air. It feels like a vice is clamped around my chest. It hurts, my body bucks at the effort. Automatically my lungs are trying to pull in more air. I let out a small breath.

  “That’s it, let it out slow.” Darren says calmly.

  I struggle to take in another painful breath. It hurts so much.

  “That’s it honey. In. Out. Do it again. Breathe with me. Follow my breaths.” Darren is pressing my palm tight against his chest breathing in deep and letting it out slow. His face is up close against mine, forehead to forehead, trying to help me to breathe easy.

  Finally the air is going in and out at an easier almost normal rate. It still hurts but at least my lungs are getting the oxygen they need. I start to cry.

  “Please don’t cry. I don’t know why you’re crying. I don’t know what to do with tears.” Darren is saying this, while continuously rubbing my back. I pull my face away from his and bury it in the front of his shirt. “Give me blood, broken bones, fire even……..not tears.”

  “So..so…sorry. I am so freakin’ weak.” I sob into his shirt making horrible gasping noises as I still try to regulate my breathing.

  I feel Darren hug me against him tighter to make his point. His firm hand holding the back of my head gently to his chest. “Weak? No your not. Not a chance. You moved out here by yourself. Started a new life after heartache that would have brought others to their knees, made others hide in their houses. You’re not weak. Far from it.” Darren tries to reassure me. He has no idea, but he’s doing pretty well for someone who doesn’t like tears.

  I take a raspy, but deep breath and lift my face from Darrens chest. My eyes stay focused on the big wet stain I made, I’m too embarrassed at my outburst, refusing to meet his eyes.

  Pulling in another deep breath, easier this time, I quietly say, “I got your shirt all wet. I can wash it, I’m sorry.”

  Darren lets out a relieved laugh then puts his hand under my chin forcing me to look at him.

  “Honey, don’t worry about my shirt. And please stop apologizing for being human. What I’d like to know is what set you off? You had me scared there. And I don’t get scared.” Darren tries to lighten the mood by smiling at me. I’m staring back at his face which is super close (again, but this time I can appreciate it) thinking that he really is a great guy. Logan is lucky to have people like this in his life.

  “What the fuck!” Is suddenly bellowed from the doorway.

  Logan.

  Oh, wow. I guess this could look bad. I am straddling Darren’s lap. His hand is holding my face very close to his. I must look a wreck.

  “You wanna help me out here buddy?” Completely unaffected by Logan’s outburst Darren calmly asks while turning to look at Logan, pure relief in his eyes.

  “Seriously, I asked, what the fuck is going on?” Logan growls, arms crossed over his massive chest, while glaring at his friend.

  Darren continues to hold his glare, obviously not concerned by the intensity of it. I look from Darren to Logan, unsure what to do.

  Finally I turn completely to Logan, about to say something, I don’t know what. I’m like a fish out of water again, opening and closing my mouth. Darren clears his throat. Logan finally focuses on me, when he sees my face he immediately loses the attitude and rushes over. “Darlin’’ what happened?” he softly asks.

  Darren stands up and when he does, I obviously do too considering I am on his lap. He puts me on my feet and turns me into Logan who engulfs me in his warm embrace.

  I then feel myself melting into Logan’s body. He has a way about him that makes me feel calm, safe. I love him. The tears continue to flow. I didn’t think I had any left, but obviously I was wrong. Logan let’s me cry holding me close the whole time, making me feel like he is never going to let me go.

  Finally, I pull it together and take a fortifying breath and look up at Logan. He is looking down at me with worry, care and concern in his eyes. Darren has left the room and shut the door behind him. Giving us privacy.

  My voice is low and raspy when I ask Logan, “Can I trust you?”

  “You have to answer that for yourself darlin’’” Logan answers honestly while wiping the remaining tears off my cheeks.

  “I haven’t been the best judge of character in the past.” I say quietly while looking down.

  Logan lifts my face gently, cradling it in his large hands, “No, you just let the wrong people in. Those were mistakes, you learn lessons from it. Whoever said life is supposed to be easy? Life is supposed to be lived. Hopefully most day�
��s you’ll have happy times, shit other days. You’re bound to hit a bunch of rough patches wonderin what the fuck. But with those rough patches you learn different lessons. It makes and molds you into who you are. Life lessons. I swear this to you Laura. Now and for as long as you let me, you can trust me. Let me in.”

  I look in Logan’s eyes and he is holding my gaze. I make my decision to trust him. To let him in. He is my safe harbor now. I feel it, and have to trust my judgment.

  “I think I know who destroyed my apartment. And I know who killed my sister and niece.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Therapy Sessions

  I’m drying my hair in Logan’s bathroom wearing his tee shirt claiming that Ruby’s has the best ribs in Texas.

  I look at myself in the mirror. I look tired, but that has been my constant look for awhile now. After my breakdown, I decided that I needed, no, wanted to trust Logan with the information imparted on me from Grace.

  I handed Logan the letter to read. His face got hard, and the only thing showing that he was pissed was a muscle that was twitching in his cheek. He looked at me and said, “Pack a bag, your staying with me.” The way he said it was with finality. I didn’t even think of arguing, not that I had the energy to anyway.

  I finally located a picture of John, I almost vomited looking at it. While I was packing up a few things to bring with me Logan made a few phone calls. One to Jonsie, and one to Darren. Logan informed me that he would trust these two men with his and his son’s life. Since I trusted Logan I let him do his thing. It was nice not to have to bear the entire burden myself. Logan took control. And I let him.

  The bedroom door opens and Logan saunters in. I stand there next to his bed not really knowing what to do. All I have on is his very large tee shirt. My hair is down around my shoulders. I have on underwear and a pair of my cozy thick white socks. I didn’t feel sexy in this outfit, but the look on Logan’s face say’s he thinks otherwise. I feel my nipples harden just from being in the vicinity of this man.