As she’s falling asleep in my arms, safe for now, I hum her the very song Mom used to hum to me when I was little and scared, when the thunder outside or the monsters under my bed were enough to keep me awake and nothing but her voice could keep me safe.
20
April 4, 2009
It’s only a few seconds after I’ve woken up that I realize I’m alone.
The stillness of the room is the first sign. The empty but still warm spot next to me the second and final. As I look up at the ceiling and stretch, straighten out every part of me that feels coiled and stiff, I wonder why I’m not surprised that she’s gone. I wonder if it’s a bad thing, how small my faith in her is, but I know she’s a creature of habit and I know she pushes away because no one else has pushed closer.
After my body feels loose again, I sit up and face the window, watch the tiny dust particles that float through the orange streams of light. Breathing in, I imagine that those little pieces of dust are parts of Logan and me and are working their way into my body, into my lungs and circulating with the air that sustains me. I hold in that breath for as long as I can before I push it out and drop my head into my hands.
Last night plays like a movie through my mind. Logan and her silence. Logan and her scars. Logan and her brokenness and the cold hard truth that I am not enough. But what kind of person would I be if I didn’t at least try? What would it say about the feelings I claim to have for her?
The door behind me creaks, barely but noticeably, and I turn my head to find Logan standing in the doorway, hair wet, still wrapped in a towel. She didn’t sneak out after all. Of course she wanted to shower. I smile at her, at myself. “Hey, what are you doing sneaking around?”
“I thought you were still sleeping.” She walks forward, takes a seat next to me on the bed. And she’s in a towel. “You okay?” she asks.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I reply, wondering why she’s asking but mostly wondering if I can get that towel off of her. I can’t help but touch her soft skin, run a fingertip along her collar bone and sweep the hair away from her shoulder. “What are your plans for today?” I ask.
I can tell by the way she shudders that my touch affects her. How had I not noticed before? “I just have work tonight, and then a party with Sam,” she says, eyes half closed.
A party with Sam. The entire time she’s been here, she hasn’t been to one single party. I figured it was because she was getting better, trying to stay away from the things that brought her down. Out of all of the parties to go to, this has got to be the worst one. I don’t know if I can protect her from what’s going to happen; from myself. “A party? With Sam?” I ask stupidly.
“Yes? Why?”
Think fast, Nathan. “Um, I was thinking that maybe you should be last cut tonight. You know, make more money.”
Logan shakes her head. “I can’t. I already told her to meet me at the bar so we could go together.”
Shit. Trying to hide the panic coursing through me, I sigh and rub my face. I’m not ready for this to be over. “I don’t think t’s a good idea for you to go to a party, Lo.”
“What? Why? What does it matter?” Just like that, she’s on the defense. She pulls her body away from mine, sets her shoulders back and draws her eyebrows down into a v on her forehead.
“What if Danny’s there?”
“He won’t be.”
“But what if he is?”
I sound like a child, but I don’t care. Logan throws her hands in the air, slaps them against her thighs. “Then I’ll deal with him if he is. But he won’t be.”
My heart is pounding. Tell her the truth. “What if I don’t want you to go?” Close enough.
Logan grabs the towel, pulls it closer to her chest, the movement screaming keep out. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
I have to backtrack. This isn’t going right. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do, Lo. I just really don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Well it’s not really your decision.” She stands and starts digging through her bag. All this time, while she was still sitting, I thought I might have a fighting chance, but now I know that she’s standing her ground, telling me to back off. “How many times have you disappeared in the past week and a half and I don’t question you,” she yells into her clothes.
I shoot to my feet and stand in front of her. “Just listen to someone for once, Lo.” It’s the wrong thing to say. I’m always saying the wrong thing.
She stands to her full height and takes a step away, this look in her eyes that’s half fear and half stubborn pride. “That’s all I do, Nathan. I listen. I obey. I’m a good girl.” Her face contorts into something ugly and hateful, something I never want to see again. “Fuck off, alright? I’m going to that party.”
As I’m staring at her, hoping she breaks away first or that she’ll realize the venom in her words and apologize, I make up my mind to follow through with the party. I can’t mess everything up, not when I’m so close to succeeding and so obviously far away from Logan. The heat of her glare follows me out of the room, only cooling once there are doors and walls and so much more separating us.
~~~
“So you’re telling me that you want to be in uniform?” Chief asks for the millionth time.
I throw the little glass paperweight back into my right hand and sigh. “Yes, Chief. That’s correct.”
“I know you already did, but explain it to me again.” He rubs the spot between his eyebrows.
“I don’t want to be at the party. I want to get this over with as quickly as possible. Plain and simple.”
“And this has nothing to do with the girl?”
I stare at him hard, trying to make sure he understands how off he is. “No, sir. It doesn’t.”
Chief sits back in his chair, rests his arms on the sides. “Good. I thought I lost you, if I’m being honest. Was getting ready to throw Crowley into the mix.”
“I’m glad you have such astounding faith in me,” I say sarcastically.
The man just shrugs his shoulders. Boss never needs an excuse. “Alright then, Nathan. You just tell us when.”
I stand and nod. “Yes, sir.”
Once back in the station, I let the rest of the team know to suit up. It’s almost eleven. The party should be in full swing by now. I know Danny will be there, too. That fact alone is worth everything.
Instead of riding with the team in the SWAT van, I follow the other officers in their cruisers, driving in silence the entire way. I’m nervous, not to be doing this but beginning to doubt if Danny will actually be there. What if we’re too early? What if we’re too late? What if the party isn’t even happening?
By the time I round the corner onto the address’s street, I’m sweating through my uniform, breathing heavily as if I just ran a marathon. But then I see the cars, lined along the side of the road, and I start to relax. This is my element. Despite every doubt and insecurity I’ve felt through all of the assignments, I am good at what I do. It was true on the football field, and it’s true now. This is where I belong.
The people standing outside of the house see us first, the big black SWAT vehicle and the five cruisers following behind. We surround the house but they take off running anyways, some through the back yard, others straight through us, obviously not sober enough to think. They’re caught easily and quickly, before I’m even parked and out of the car. They’re not who we’re looking for, however, so they’re relieved of their keys and told to walk home. Once the outside of the house is empty, I follow the team into formation and wait for the signal. I’ve placed myself closest to the door, that way I can run in and find who I’m looking for. The others are set on a select five, and I’m set on a select one; Daniel Emilio Alvarez.
The second our team leader Shrink gives the signal, I’m busting though the door, yelling at everyone to get down as my eyes sweep over every face. Most of them are just a blur of movement as they realize what’s happening and prepare to run. Cups ful
l of beer hit the ground, covering everything in a slick coat of walking danger. This works in our advantage as one after another slips and falls. Someone on the team zip ties the people already down, orders them to stay on the ground. They listen, too high or drunk to do anything but. I keep moving, past the kitchen, past hallways with rooms and into the living room where the chaos hasn’t yet reached, but as soon as my body has broken that ignorant threshold, all hell breaks loose.
And that’s when I see him, his body facing Logan and her back facing me. Her head is to the side, her hair covering her face and I know, I know, that he’s just hit her. My resolve to stay away from her falters, only for a second, but that second costs me. Danny takes off in the opposite direction, down the hall, and instead of going after him I push through the crowd towards Logan. I holster my gun and reach for her hands, pull them behind her back and turn us so that she’s still facing away from me. And then I push us through the emptying room, past my team and their questioning glances, and outside into the less chaotic night. Logan’s breathing erratically. I can feel her hands shaking through my gloves. Every fiber of my being wants to reach out and comfort her, but there are people that can see us.
“Please,” she whispers.
Against my better judgment, I open my mouth to respond. “It’s okay, Lo.”
As we get closer to my cruiser, she starts to fight against me. “Don’t, please. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
Reaching around her, I open the front door, place her in front of me and then prepare myself. This is it. I release her hands and turn her to face me, holding my breath and waiting for the moment her eyes meet mine and recognition dawns. It doesn’t take long, maybe half a second, but it might as well have been a lifetime.
“Is she clean, Hawkins?” I hear Crowley ask. He ended up coming anyways, which could be bad since he knows Logan, but then I look at him and realize the pass he’s offering, the I know but I won’t tell look he’s giving me.
“Yeah, man, just drunk,” I reply, loud enough for everyone else to hear. I’m not following protocol; the very protocol I insisted on.
Logan’s eyes widen; in fear or in disbelief, I can’t tell. Probably both. Either way, I put it there. I betrayed her, hurt her, maybe far worse than anyone else has. But I helped her, too. I have to believe that I’m still helping her. “You- You’re a-“ she stutters, her chin wobbling as her words trail off.
“Lo, just let me explain-”
“You didn’t tell me. You didn’t tell me that you’re fucking cop, Nathan,” she practically spits at me.
Looking around to see who can hear us, if anyone is paying attention, I figure out what I need to say to make this right. “I couldn’t. I wanted to, I swear I was going to, but you weren’t supposed to be here. You weren’t supposed to come to this party.” You were supposed to be asleep, in my bed, safe. I’m trying to keep you safe. The words don’t come out, though, and as I watch Logan’s features transform from fury to disgust, I know nothing I say will save us.
“You let me- You fucked me. Is anything you told me true?”
Jesus Christ. “What? Lo, I didn’t lie about anything else, I swear.”
“You told me you dropped out of school.”
Is she serious? I don’t say that. Instead, I say, “That’s the only thing I lied about.” I wrap my hands around her shaking arms. Her skin is cold, clammy. She’s high as a fucking kite. “Listen, Lo. I’m sorry. When I hired you, I was hoping I could keep you away from this-”
“When you hired me?” She interrupts, yanking her arms out of my grasp. “You know who I was before you hired me?”
Shit. “No. Yes.” I shake my head in an attempt to clear it. “It’s not like that. I recognized your name from the reports. I thought that if I could get you away from Danny you wouldn’t get caught up in all of this.”
“I was never caught up in any of this!” she screams, and I look around again, paranoid that someone will take her yelling as resisting arrest and take it upon themselves to restrain her, but nobody looks our way. There’s the sound of chaos in the distance, but I’m too far away to see what’s going on, both physically and mentally. When I turn back to Logan, she’s still yelling. “Danny left me at home! He always left me at home! I got caught up in this because of you.”
How can that be true? Danny didn’t even care about her. Why would he leave her at home? “I didn’t know that. God, Lo, you never told me anything!” This isn’t my fault. There was so much she left unsaid, so many things I didn’t know. She could have spoken up- I gave her every opportunity to, every reason to. I loved her- love her. Shit.
“That’s because I didn’t know you! I didn’t trust you! And look what happened when I did trust you!” Her chest rises and falls rapidly with heavy breaths. Her hair sticks to her damp skin, glistening under the streetlights. Everything about her looks feral, wild, untamed. It hits me then that it’s possible she was never mine to tame, that she was never meant to be tamed.
Before I know it, Logan is falling towards the ground, her arms braced to catch her fall. The sick sound of skin meeting asphalt slides into the already chaotic night, but when I reach to help her up, to take her into my arms, she pushes me away, mumbling something about crystals and rocks, and stands on her own. There’s a resolve in her eyes that strikes deep inside my chest. The minute her mouth begins to form words, I know that it’s over.
“Don’t ever talk to me again,” she says, her voice measured, calculated. “Don’t ever think about me again. As far as I’m concerned, you don’t exist. You never existed. You’re nothing to me.”
The eyes I once found so mesmerizing, so warm and fluid are now hard as diamonds, sharp as a steel knife. They meet mine with an unwavering certainty that is almost enough to bring me to my knees. “Don’t say that, Lo. I’m sorry…” I begin to say, to beg for her forgiveness, for more time to explain my intentions, but she cuts me off, regards me as if I am nothing but an inconvenience in her otherwise blissful night.
“I need a ride hime, officer. If you don’t mind.” I didn’t know she could act. I hope this is an act.
Then her words hit me, and I realize what she’s asking. To be brought home. Not my home. Her home. With Lena. And Dave. And all of the things that brought her here, to this very place. To her home, where I can’t keep her safe. She’s not yours to save, Nate. Logan was never mine, much less mine to save. I see that now.
The ride to her house is so absolutely silent that it’s almost as if Logan and I aren’t existing in the same space. It amazes me how she can act as if I am nothing to her when it feels as if my insides are being wrung by barbed wire. When the car finally stops, she wastes no time in gathering herself, preparing to leave.
In a last attempt to get her to leave with me, I say, “Logan, you don’t have to stay here. You can come back-”
“No thank you, Officer,” she says with a smile, so sweet I’d think it’s been there this whole time. And she meets my eyes, holds them steady along with that smile. As she turns, I see her shoulders droop, watch her hand tremble as she opens the door.
Mine shoots out, one last touch, one last try. “I’m so sorry, Lo. So sorry. Please don’t stay here.” But she doesn’t turn around, keeps moving forward, out of my car, through the lawn and into the dead house that will end up swallowing her whole, too.
When I close my eyes to clear away the glassiness I will deny was ever there, I see Lena rotting away on top of the couch that was practically dead, too, but instead of Lena’s face, it’s Logan’s, so similar it’s not hard to make the switch.
The sound of my ringtone breaks into this miserable moment. Without looking, I slide the screen. “Hawkins,” I answer.
“Where are you? We got him, Nate. We got Danny.”
Just like that, the car is in drive and Logan’s home is nothing but a spec in my rearview mirror. I wish I could say the same about the hole she’s created in my chest.
21
May 2, 2009
But I can’t think about Logan right now. Not when I have to keep myself and my family safe. Not when this damn security system isn’t working right. I’ve been on hold with the company for over an hour and I’m tempted to hang up and rip the whole thing out. Start over. If only it was that easy.
The sound of the front door opening stops my thoughts; it’s only noon and Emily and Joshua are both in school. I should be the only one here. Sliding out of the barstool in the kitchen, I place the phone face down on the counter, walk over to the fridge and pull the shotgun down. The weight settles into my hands and instantly calms me. Before I take another step, I inhale a deep breath. Everything’s moving in slow motion again, like it did on the field when the ball was in the air, but instead of standing still, I move forward silently, through the kitchen and towards the hallway, each heartbeat matching my every footstep.
It doesn’t occur to me that there are no other sounds coming from anywhere in the house; that the door opened and closed and there were no footsteps to follow. All I can think about is that Danny is out there somewhere, maybe in my house, and I won’t be caught off guard again. Just as I’m rounding the corner, I hear a cough, and the strangest thing is that it’s a familiar sound, feminine and small. And then I see Emily, standing by the front door, cell phone in her hands and purse lying open on the front table.
Tailspin (Better Than You) Page 13