You’re nothing. You’re not good enough for him. Blake was right.
My hands cover my ears to stop the voice.
“Shut up, shut up, shut up.”
I feel dirty. I want out of my skin. That’s not possible, so I settle for ripping the sheets off my bed and taking a shower.
River comes into the hall as I’m walking to the small laundry room behind the kitchen.
“Hey.”
“Hi.”
“What are you doing?”
“Getting rid of his smell. The sheets smell like Bruno’s cologne.”
Her eyes go wide.
“Did you—you didn’t . . .”
River is studying me, looking for something, but I’m empty except for the pain.
“Did you sleep with Bruno?”
The question makes me want to laugh into hysterics.
“He slept in my bed, but I didn’t have sex with him, if that’s what you’re asking.”
I can see her visibly relax.
“Why did Bruno sleep in your bed?”
I suck in a deep breath, hoping the extra air will shift the pressure in my chest. It doesn’t work.
“Sidney broke up with him. He was a mess. You were coming home, and he didn’t want you to see him like that. It was snowing so hard and I didn’t want him to drive in it. I told him to go hide in my room until you went to bed.” The words come out of me in a monotone. Empty of any feelings or emotions. The anger from before evaporates. I’m no longer angry at Bruno for putting me in this situation. No longer angry at Logan for not giving me a chance to speak. No longer angry at myself for keeping secrets that destroyed the best thing that had ever happened to me. I feel nothing. I am nothing. It’s all empty space. I can’t take this anymore. I drop the bundle of sheets to the floor.
“I’ll do this later. I need a shower.”
“Skye?” I don’t make it far.
“Aren’t you going to call Logan?”
I answer her, but I don’t turn around. “He won’t listen.”
“You have to try. Make him listen to you.”
“I don’t think I can.”
“He said the same thing.”
“What?” I didn’t quite hear what River said. Her voice was low.
“Nothing. I said nothing, thinking out loud.”
I stay in the shower until it runs cold and I’m shivering. I try hard to remember all the happy times I shared with Logan, but all of them have been replaced with images of this morning. Logan would forgive anything except cheating. Not after what happened with his ex and his father. He’ll never listen to me. And I was never good at speaking up and defending myself, anyway. Even if I’m innocent, guilt still hits me hard. I had two loyalties, and I picked Bruno over Logan. What does that say about me? I don’t deserve him. He needs someone who will always take his side, someone stronger, someone who’ll stand up for him.
I’m not that person.
Chapter Fifty-Six
I’ve been staring at my phone for hours since River left, willing it to ring, willing for an apology message or call, hoping she’ll beg for forgiveness, and angry at myself because of it.
If she calls, I’ll break down and take her back. And I’ll be a bigger fool than I was when I was dating Amanda and under my father’s thumb. I don’t want to be that blind again. I won’t allow anyone that much power over me ever again. I can’t let Skye do this to me too.
I text Liam. I know he won’t see this, but I need to say the words so I believe them myself.
Logan: It’s over, baby brother.
Then, I find her contact on my phone and block her. I disable the Facebook account I rarely use as well. My finger hovers over the Pictures icon. I tap it and browse through the dozens and dozens of pictures I took of her, of us together, of places we’ve been. I can’t delete them. Not yet.
I’ll keep the pictures as a reminder of how easily she fooled me so I’ll never fall for it again.
I almost believe myself.
The phone rings, and I jump, nearly dropping it.
It’s not Skye. I know it’s not her. I just blocked her number, but part of me still hopes some tech glitch allows her call to get through to me anyway.
The text message is from my captain, asking if I can do a couple of overtime shifts before I go on my Christmas vacation. There will be no Christmas vacation. This will be just another Christmas I spend alone. No family. No friends. No Skye. But I don’t tell him that.
Yes. Yes, I can work overtime.
Staying busy will get my mind off her.
I’ll do anything to get my mind off Skye.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Night has fallen, and the house is quiet but for the sounds of the heat kicking in every so often. River is asleep in her room. She wanted to stay with me, but I said no. I missed classes and slept most of the day again today. I know I’ll be up all night. Almost forty-eight hours since I last saw Logan.
The lights are out, but the full moon shining on the snow outside reflects onto the walls through the open curtains and lends enough light to create shadows everywhere in my room. It’s oddly comforting.
My stomach grumbles, reminding me I ate nothing today. My eyes fall to the night table. The long-cold coffee and bakery bag still sit on it. Logan’s parting gift. River tried to throw it away, but I didn’t let her. It’s the last physical reminder that Logan was here.
I imagine what would have happened if Sidney hadn’t broken up with Bruno. He would’ve never come over. Logan would’ve never found him in my bed, and we’d be wrapped in each other and talking, as we often did in the middle of the night.
I look at my phone. I’ve been holding it for hours, but it stays stubbornly silent.
Five percent battery life left.
I should plug it in, go get something to eat, and try to sleep. I don’t do either of those things.
Instead, I text Logan.
Me: I miss you.
Me: Nothing happened. You have to believe me.
Me: There’s a reason
I hesitate. I don’t want to bring Bruno’s name up. But I have to. It’s so much easier to be brave over a text message. I stare at my phone for long minutes, tapping it every time the screen dims before it goes dark. How long have I stared at the unsent message? I heave a heavy breath.
Me: There’s a reason for what you saw Saturday morning. Just give me a chance to explain.
Me: Please?
Me: I love you. You know I do.
My phone goes dark. Dead. Is this an omen?
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Day three without him. It’s the last week of school before winter break. The kids at my daycare job are restless and eager to go on break. Later this week, I have my last two finals this semester. My mind isn’t in the right place, but I force myself to get up, shower, and get dressed in leggings and a Star Wars hoodie. It’s “wear your favorite movie” day at the daycare, and all the kids seem to love Star Wars. River went to Pat’s to get us coffee and some pastries. She thinks the sugar will make me feel better. I barely ate since that morning and only did it while she was hovering over me like a mother hen and practically force-feeding me.
The silence is broken by River’s hurried footsteps into the living room. She comes to the kitchen and just looks at me. She’s white as a ghost and breathing so fast, she’s hyperventilating.
“What? What is it?”
“Skye.”
All she says is my name, but it scares me.
I take a step closer to her.
“What happened?”
I don’t even know what’s going on and my eyes are already misting.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”
River’s crying now. River never cries, and I’m terrified. My heart contracts with fear and races as if trying to escape my chest. I don’t blame it. If I could escape myself, I’d run too.
“You’re scaring me. What happened?”
A thousand thoughts assaul
t me in unison.
Another shooting at Riggins?
Someone hurt River?
Mom?
Dad?
LOGAN!
My head is shaking, and I step back as if retreating and denying whatever River is about to say would make it any less real.
“It’s Logan. Something happened. I’m so sorry, Skye. He’s been shot.”
She’s speaking. I can see her lips moving, but I hear no sounds other than the pounding of my heart in my ears. River tries to hold me, but I slap her hands away and turn my back to her. Something takes over me, possesses my body, and I’m no longer me. Raw, burning pain claws at my chest and steals my breath away. I’m heaving and feel sick to my stomach, but it’s empty and there’s nothing to expel. Her arms come around me and I fight her. I fight my sister because I can’t fight the hurt. I push her away.
A part of me watches it all from the outside. Looking in, I see myself fall apart, lose control, become rage and pain, trapped in the body of a twenty-one-year-old woman. The other me watches with curiosity and detachment. She watches me as I break down.
A stinging burn on my left cheek brings me back from the abyss I fell into. A voice reaches me. Low, very low at first, and then it grows.
“Skye!”
“Skye, listen to me.”
Firm hands grasp my upper arms and shake me.
My eyes find River. She’s crying, her eyes are red, her hair in disarray.
“He’s alive, Skye. He’s in surgery. That’s all I know.”
Air, glorious air, reaches my lungs, and I suck in one breath after the other, no longer drowning. River’s words are a lifesaver. I hold on to them with everything I have.
I have to blink several times until I can see her face clearly. My cheek still stings.
“He’s alive?”
“Yes, he is, but it’s bad, Skye. We have to go. Let’s go to the hospital.”
Some of the numbness eases off.
“Did you slap me?”
“Yes. I’m sorry, but I had to. You’re hysterical, and I didn’t know what else to do. Come on, put some shoes and a jacket on and let’s go. I’ll drive us to the hospital.”
On the way to the hospital, River tells me what she knows. She went to Pat’s to get us breakfast and Pat told her. Pat’s sister is a nurse at the hospital, and she was working when Logan was admitted. Logan was shot while trying to arrest a guy high on drugs and alcohol, and he’s in surgery. That’s all the information Pat’s sister could provide. They’re both friends with Logan’s grandparents and saw him grow up. I know Pat is fond of Logan, but I never realized how close they were. River doesn’t know when it happened.
We walk up to the information desk in the ER. The lady behind the desk moves at molasses speed. I can barely contain myself. River holds my hand and squeezes it.
“Excuse me, we want to check on the status of a patient.” River is all business and authority. The lady takes us in and shuffles closer. The nametag on her scrubs says Joanne.
“Yes, how can I help you?”
“We need to know about a patient who was brought in today or last night. His name is Logan Cole.”
“Are you family?” she asks.
I freeze, but River just goes on.
“Yes, she’s his girlfriend.”
I flinch at the word. I’m not. I’m no longer his girlfriend, but if a lie will get me information on him, I’ll be his grandma, for all I care.
The lady looks nervous all of a sudden and looks behind us at where a few people are seated in the small waiting room.
She whispers, “I’m sorry, did you say girlfriend?”
“Yes,” River and I reply at the same time.
She presses her lips together as if trying to figure what to say next. She continues in a low voice, intended only for us.
“I’m sorry, but information can be released to family members only, but the people in the waiting room behind you are related to the patient. His parents, and”—she takes a deep breath—“and his fiancée.”
“What?” River’s voice sounds loud in the quiet space.
I look over my shoulder, seeing the faces this time. An older couple, the lady in her forties, the man late fifties, and a woman in her late twenties. The woman is breathtakingly beautiful. And she looks at me like I’m something she wants to scrape off the bottom of her very expensive shoes.
I whisper back to River while the lady behind the desk watches us.
“That’s his ex. They broke up over four years ago.”
“You know her?”
“I know of her.”
I turn to the nurse. “Can you just tell me if he’s okay? Please?”
She hesitates and then looks at her computer, tapping a few keys. I hold on to hope as if my own life depends on it.
Just as she looks up, the ex-fiancée stands next to us. She looks me up and down and glares at Joanne behind the desk.
“Were you about to give information to a non-family member?”
“No, ma’am.”
She turns her attention to me now.
“I heard you mention my fiancé’s name. Who are you?”
Her voice is loud enough to call Logan’s parents’ attention. Joanne shifts behind her desk. River stiffens. I can feel her gearing up for a fight, and that’s the last thing we need. I just want to know about Logan. I don’t care how or who I get the information from. I grab River’s arm, and she receives my silent message.
There are other people waiting for the information desk now. I step around the ex and walk the few feet to the waiting area.
I make eye contact. Logan’s father is a handsome man, and it’s easy to see where Logan got his looks from. He’s dressed in a suit that looks like it costs more than my entire closet put together. But he lacks the warmth and openness Logan has. His mother is a beautiful woman, but petite and timid-looking. There’s curiosity in her eyes, while his father’s only hold coldness. She looks friendly. So while I look at both of them, I address the question to her.
“Hi, my name is Skye. I just heard what happened. Can you please tell me how he’s doing?”
A sad smile touches her lips but disappears as soon as Logan’s father opens his mouth. He does not respond to my question but interrogates me instead. He stands and towers over me. I recognize the intimidating gesture for what it is. The few times Logan talked about his father come to mind. Controlling, intimidating, cold. Yes, he’s all that and more. I can’t help but compare this cold man standing in front of me to my always happy and loving father.
“Who are you? How do you know my son?” He snaps the question at me as if the hospital belongs to him and I’m breaking in.
River cracks her knuckles behind me, a gesture I’m well accustomed to—a clear sign that she’s about to release fury out into the world. Our father nicknamed her The Kraken when we were kids because her tantrums were that scary. She’s about to have a throwdown with Logan’s father and I can’t let that happen. I catch her eyes and send her a silent plea. She nods at me, but I know she’s a hair-trigger away from teaching this guy a few new curse words he’s never heard before.
“As I said before.” I take a deep breath to steady myself. “My name is Skye, and I’m a friend of Logan’s.”
“Never heard of you.” His disdain is clear. The ex stands next to him, hands on tilted hips. Face fierce, perfect hair, perfect makeup. She looks like she’s posing for a magazine cover, dressed in caramel-colored soft wool pants, four-inch heels, and a cream silk blouse. Jewelry sparkles on her wrist and . . . the left ring finger.
“Funny, I heard a lot about you.” I let my eyes glance at the ex, and his face loses the haughtiness for the briefest of moments, but the composure is back just as fast.
The ex—Amanda is her name, if I remember correctly—speaks up. “A friend? Or a girlfriend? Are you lying now, or were you lying before? I heard what you said to the receptionist.” She waves her hand as she speaks, the intent to show off the ga
rish diamond ring on her finger clear. She’s staking a claim and I have nothing to hold on to. Logan is no longer mine.
“I’m not lying.”
She looks me up and down, and I’m painfully aware of my limp hair, lack of makeup, the black leggings, an old pair of Uggs I’ve had since high school, and my oversized hoodie with Yoda on the front and the famous quote, Do or do not. There is no try.
She laughs a fake laugh, and it’s as annoying as her voice, nasally, whiny, and sharp at the same time.
“Oh, you poor little thing. Did you think he actually cared about you? You’re a bed warmer and nothing more. I told him to have his fun while we’re not married. We laugh about it when he calls me. The poor little girl who thinks she got herself a big fish.”
A fake laugh follows the cruel words. It’s a lie. I know it is. She’s trying to hurt me and make me leave.
But is it? Is it a lie?
How do you know?
Blake thought you were just a challenge. Jon just wanted to use you.
Why would Logan be any different?
The voice of doubt whispers in my head, but it may as well be screaming. I stand there, paralyzed by fear, hurt, and doubt. River shifts to my side and squeezes my shoulder.
“Let me, please let me,” she begs.
I just shake my head and turn away from them when I see cops walking down the hall in the direction of the waiting room. One of them looks familiar. He stops the other two and says something to them, and they continue to walk my way, except for the familiar one. He nods at me to follow him and I do, River trailing several feet behind me and giving us space to talk.
I meet him away from the waiting area where we can’t be seen by Logan’s family.
“You’re Skye, right? Logan’s girlfriend?”
I lie again. “Yes. Can you tell me anything?”
“I thought so. I didn’t want to say anything in front of his family. It’s no wonder Logan never spends any time with them.”
Because of Logan Page 23