by JA Huss
“I did what I had to, Logan. I gave him up. He was adopted—”
“Yes,” he says, cutting me off. “I think that part’s true. The part I think you’re lying about is knowing where he is.”
“Why do you need to know that?” I say, walking back into my closet to choose shoes.
“Because I need to predict what Damon might do if I don’t complete this job for him, that’s why. I need to understand how invested he is in this outcome.”
Yesterday’s boots were my absolute favorite but they don’t go with these jeans. So I choose a pair of snow boots instead. White ones with fake fur lining that spills out over the top. They are for looks, mostly. Super cute. But they keep my feet warm too. And I might need that later.
If I survive this little meeting with Logan, that is.
“Where’s AJ?” I ask, suddenly wondering why Logan’s in here alone.
“I think he’s plowing the parking lot.”
“What?” I say, coming out of the closet. I throw the boots on the floor and go fishing for thick socks. Then sit on the bed in front of Logan and start pulling them on.
“I saw him go into the shop out back and start something up. He said you have a tractor in there? So I’m just assuming. But that’s something AJ would do.”
I picture this in my head and say, “Yeah, it kinda is.”
“He’s into you,” Logan says.
I stare at him for a second, then nod. “OK. I can see that. And you?”
Logan shrugs. “I might be into you too.”
“How far into me?” I ask.
“Far enough to help you live through this day.”
I take a deep breath and let it out.
“If that’s what you want,” he adds.
I don’t know if that’s a real question or not, so I continue to say nothing.
“Is that what you want?”
“Look,” I say, suddenly feeling irritated. “I don’t know you. And whatever it is you think you know about me, I’m ninety-nine percent certain that it’s wrong. So if you think I’m gonna spill my guts to you, you’re mistaken. You don’t get to know what I want, Logan. You don’t get to understand what I feel. You haven’t earned it. You were sent here to kill me. And you had no problem with that before we got stuck in a blizzard together. So why should I trust you? Or AJ, for that matter?”
“Fair point,” he says. “All good points. But Yvette, we’re the only chance you have.”
“I don’t need your last chance. What part of that isn’t sinking in?”
“So you’re gonna take the pills?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then you want to live?”
“I don’t know! God, just shut up!”
He presses his lips together and leans back in the chair. And this casualness, combined with his new appearance… I don’t know. Makes me feel like I’m overreacting. Being stupid.
I am being stupid. And it’s got nothing to do with Logan or AJ. I was going to kill myself last night. And even though the sadness is still there, somehow everything feels different now.
My plan feels absurd, and simplistic, and maybe even selfish. Not that there’s anyone left in my life who gives that many fucks about me. Sure, the locals would talk. Some might even be sad. My mail person, probably. She and I chat when she comes in. And there are a few truckers who drive this highway often who stop by and always seem happy to see me.
Not much left after that. Chris’s family, maybe. But… by now, I’m just a loose end in their lives. Just a leftover. They’re nice but… we’re not friends. I don’t call up and chat with them or anything like that.
Familiar strangers, that’s all.
I realize that Logan did shut up and all during this introspection the room has been silent.
He’s staring at me and I’m staring back.
“What?” I say. “Why are you looking at me that way?”
He says, “Do you have a picture of him?”
“Who?” I ask, thinking maybe he means Chris.
“The baby boy.”
“Oh,” I say, suddenly feeling heavy, and sluggish. “Yes. I have one from the day he was born. That’s it.”
“You never saw him again?”
I shake my head. “No. I signed the papers and that was it.”
“I imagine that was hard. Maybe… the hardest thing you’ve ever done.”
“Logan,” I say. “What part of ‘you don’t get to know me’ didn’t you understand? I’m not discussing my personal life with you.”
“Harder than being raped, maybe?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Harder than being held prisoner.”
“I’m warning you—”
“Harder even than running away and starting over.”
I don’t bother finishing my sentence.
“Because I get it, Yvette.”
“Get what?”
“Why giving him up was the hardest thing, and the easiest thing, you’ve ever done.”
I exhale. Thinking about that.
“Because it’s one thing to be a girl who is raped, and beaten, and possibly killed. But it’s something else altogether to be the mother of the man who does those things.”
I just look at him.
“That’s why you had to leave. You did it for him. You left and took all those risks so that no matter what happens to you, that baby boy wouldn’t grow up to be his father.”
I nod, my eyes filling with tears. “I couldn’t keep him,” I say. “I wasn’t safe. And if I wasn’t safe he’d never be safe. Kids need to feel safe, ya know? Or they start doing things that—for whatever reason—give them the illusion of safety. But really all they do is hurt others. People like Damon hurt others because they’ve been conditioned to feel fear and fear makes people do awful things. I was not going to turn my son into one of those fearful, unsafe people who do awful things to others in order to feel better about their shitty circumstances. So yeah… it was the hardest and easiest thing I ever did.”
Logan gets up out of the chair, walks across the room, and puts his arms around me. He hugs me tight and I let him. I let myself cry too. No sobs. Just a few tears down my cheeks.
He says, “You did the right thing, Yvette.”
Chapter Twenty-Four - LOGAN
I take her and lead her out into the living room. Over to the couch where I sit, pulling her into my lap so I can hold her. I don’t love her. She doesn’t love me. But everyone needs to feel cared for. Even women like her who force themselves to move on, who turn themselves into silent warriors in order to protect something bigger than themselves, want to feel cared for.
For some it’s an idea or a personal philosophy. A way to make the world slightly better when they leave than when they entered. For others it’s just a survival skill.
I think for Yvette it’s both.
And I can respect that.
I let the silence hang as I formulate a new plan of action. Let that silence surround us like a cloak. Outside there’s the faint hum of a motor. AJ clearing the parking lot. They’re a lot alike. Both of them are dreamers and I’m just a pragmatist. I can understand AJ falling for her. It’s easy for him to be into this woman.
It’s also easy to find her vulnerable side too. And even though AJ doesn’t really come off as the Prince Charming type, he’s always had it in him. The potential has always been there.
Me, on the other hand, I’ve never been that guy. I am the most selfish, greedy, egotistical, narcissistic asshole there is. I mean, sure, there are others out there like me. Lots of us. But I’m right up there in the top ranks, I think.
I always have an ulterior motive. Always have a hidden agenda.
Except I don’t even bother to hide it. That’s why Damon doesn’t trust me. That’s why I have the ironic nickname.
“So,” Yvette says, finally breaking our silence. “What do we do?”
“Do you want to live?” I ask her. “Because if not, then my job
gets a lot easier.”
She thinks about this for a while. So long, in fact, I start to wonder why that fucking question is so damn hard.
Then it hits me. “Did you love him?” I ask.
“Damon?” She huffs.
“No,” I huff back. “That’s just stupid. That guy, Chris. Was he your soulmate and shit?”
Again with the silent introspection.
“Yvette, that wasn’t a trick question.”
“I don’t know,” she says. “I loved him. And just thinking about him being gone hurts my heart.” She suddenly sits up and looks at me. “But you know what hurts worse?”
“What?”
“That Damon was the one who took him away.”
Yeah, I get that. “That’s not love, Yvette. At least I don’t think so. I’m not an expert, so take this for what it’s worth. But that sounds a lot like hate to me.”
“I did love Chris. But was he my soulmate?” She squints her eyes and crinkles her nose as she thinks. “I don’t know.”
I nod. Because that’s a firm no in my book, but no one wants to admit they fell in love for safety.
And that’s what she did.
Her baby girl? Well, that’s a whole different story that I won’t ask about. Falling in love with children is easy. Sometimes all it takes is one look.
“I can make you safe,” I say. “I can protect you and your little boy too. I know you know where he’s at.”
She doesn’t deny it this time. Doesn’t confirm it, either, but that’s not the important part.
“I don’t trust you,” she says.
“No.” I sorta laugh. “No one trusts me. Well… maybe AJ. But it’s misplaced.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because he knows better than to trust me.”
“You would fuck him over to save yourself?” she asks.
“In a heartbeat.”
She wriggles in my lap, trying to get away. Probably has an instant urge to get as far away from me as she possibly can. But I don’t let her go. I say, “Sit still and listen to me very carefully, OK?”
“Why? Why should I listen to anything you say? You’re going to sell us out. You basically just admitted that.”
“Because in case you haven’t noticed, I’m all you’ve got. So listen.”
She huffs, and frowns, and shoots me a look of disgust. But I’m used to those looks.
“If you tell me where that kid is, I’ll make a promise to protect you.”
“Oh.” She laughs. “That’s amazing. Thank you. Let me just spill all my deepest secrets to the only man I’ve ever met who admits he’s a lowlife piece of shit. Because that makes so much sense.”
I let her feel that disgust. Maybe even relish in it a little. Because I do have a plan. I do have a way out. But all the pieces have to line up just so. Which means I need her on board.
“I can get you out of this. If that’s what you want.”
“I just have to trust you.” She laughs again.
“Look,” I say. “I’m just being honest with you. And that’s probably more than you ever got from most people in your life. Let’s look at this logically, OK? Damon married you when you were underage, so that means your parents sold you out. Did they tell you that you’d be raped on your wedding night? No, I’m guessing not. I’m also guessing you didn’t even bother telling your father that happened, did you?”
“What’s that got to do with it?”
“Everything, Yvette. You said so yourself. When kids don’t feel safe they grow up and do shitty things to make themselves feel better.”
“I haven’t treated anyone like shit. I left, that’s it. I left and kept to myself.”
“Did Chris know about Damon?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Did you tell him, Hey, I’m a mobster’s wife on the run. And one day, just when we think we’re happy and living the dream, he’s gonna come back and fuck everything up for us?”
I give her the courtesy of silence to wait for an answer, but I already know she won’t answer.
So I continue. “No, you didn’t tell him that. You never even told him Damon came into the bar, did you?” This time I don’t wait for her answer. “You sold him out.”
“Fuck you,” she says. And she gets up out of my lap so quick, I can’t grab her back and keep her still. “Just fuck you.” She walks over to a chair and sits down, drawing her knees up to her chest.
I let her stew like that for several seconds, glaring at me with a look of pure hate.
“Yvette.” I sigh. “I’m not judging you. It’s called survival, cookie. It’s nothing more than instinctual self-preservation. That’s all I’m doing too. That’s my only point here.”
“You’re going to sell me out.”
“No.”
“You’re going to get the information you need, call up Damon, and sell me out.”
“No,” I say again.
“And you’re going to sell out AJ too. I can feel it. I’ve been watching you very carefully. I’ve seen it.”
“Seen what?”
“I don’t know,” she says, shaking her head. “The only thing I do know is that you’re a monster.”
“Again,” I say, losing patience, “I’m not denying that. I’m being honest with you. I’m not going to sell you out. I’m making you a fucking offer. And it’s the only offer you’ve got, cookie. So you should probably stop reacting to what you think you know and listen more carefully for the things you don’t."
“What offer?”
I stretch out my hand and say, “Come here,” motioning to her with my fingers.
She shakes her head no.
“Yvette,” I say, sternly. “Come. Here.”
But she shakes her head no again.
“Do you want the monster on your side? Or don’t you?”
“What?”
I smile at her. “I’ll be the monster. I don’t mind. But I can be your monster if you let me.”
“So I’m trading one for the other?”
I shrug. “Would you rather go up against the bad guy alone? Or have an equally bad one by your side?”
“Oh, my God,” she says, gripping her hair up near her ears and shaking her head. Like she wants me to shut up.
“I think it’s a fair offer.”
“What do I have to give you in return?”
“Trust,” I say. “That’s it. Just trust.”
“Tell you where my son is?”
I nod. “Tell me that and I can spin some gold for you.”
“How?”
“Get us all out of this mess. Start a new life. AJ and I have a place in mind. A little island off the coast of Mexico. Just picture a beach house, OK? White sand, blue ocean, hot weather. No blizzards to get stuck in,” I say, then wink at her. “Maybe a little business? You can open an Etsy shop and sell seashells by the seashore—”
She manages a small laugh.
“AJ can give surf lessons… shit like that.”
“You’re serious?”
I nod. “I’m fucking serious. We talked about it. Just ask him when he comes back in. He’ll tell you the same thing I just said.”
“Why?”
“Why am I helping you? Or why do I dream of a life on that island?”
“Both.”
I sigh. This is the hardest part of the plan, I think. So I need to be careful. Say too much or the wrong thing and she’ll figure out what I’m up to. And maybe that doesn’t matter much, but I can’t have AJ getting suspicious. He would never agree to my plan.
So I say, “Do I look like a happy man to you?”
“What?”
“Just answer the question.”
“I don’t know.”
“Take a wild guess.”
“No, then. I’d guess not.”
“Well, you’re correct. I’m not excited about life. I came up here to do a job, figured I’d do it. I’d go back. Probably earn a few points with Damon. Earn h
is trust for a little bit longer. Bide my time. Wait for someone to kill him. Because someone will. There are bosses people hate but respect, and those dudes take a long time to die. But then there are bosses like Damon. Bosses who force the loyalty by asking men like me to do jobs like this. And those guys never last long because we hate them, but we don’t respect them. Someone will kill him. Maybe not soon enough for us. But within the next few years. Still, that won’t save anyone in this room, ya know?”
She must be thinking about this, because she doesn’t say anything.
“That’s why I’m helping you. I hate him too. There’s actually nothing to like about that guy. And sure, I’m also a monster. But like I said, I could be your monster, Yvette.”
She inhales a long breath like she’s about to say something, but the apartment door opens and AJ comes in stomping his feet. He’s wearing coveralls he must’ve found out in the workshop. They are covered in ice balls and his face is red from the cold.
But he’s smiling.
“Can I get a fuck yeah?” he asks, unzipping his coveralls so he can take them off. “We are outta here as soon as the highway’s cleared. The snow is just about over.”
He looks at us as he peels off his clothes and boots and leaves it all in a heap at the door as he walks over to Yvette and offers her his hand.
Unlike my gesture, she accepts his immediately. He tugs her up to her feet and then leads her across the room and flops onto the couch next to me, pulling her into his lap.
“Keep me warm, cookie. I’m cold.” He places her hands on his cheeks and she shivers. But she laughs too.
Fucking guy. Sometimes I hate him for being so charming.
Chapter Twenty-Five - AJ
“What’d I miss?” I ask. Because I can tell these two have been talking about shit while I was out saving the world from snowdrifts.
“Logan wants to be my monster,” Yvette says.
“Oh.” I laugh. “Well, fuckin’ ay. It’s a nice offer. You gonna take him up on that?” I slip my hands up her shirt and this makes her squeal.
“Stop it! Stop!”
But fuck that. I’ve been out in the cold for more than a hour. I grab her bra under her shirt and tug it down so I can cup my freezing hands around her warm tits.