by Janie Marie
“You want me to stay locked up?” She was ready to throttle him.
“I want you safe.” He shifted in his seat, casting his gaze at anything but her. “I want you safe, Kylie.” His eyes finally returned to hers. “I was the shittiest excuse for a boyfriend, and I hate myself for using and hurting you—but I won’t sit back and let you go out there. So if you’re insisting on getting out, you come where we can protect you. No running off like you’re invincible.”
His offer should’ve been tempting, but it was anything but. “Don’t think you can come in here and tell me what I can and can’t do.”
“I can’t tell you what to do,” he said, leveling her with a calculating look. “I’m saying you need to understand there are two evil men out for you, Lorelei, Maura, and Janie. If any of you get hurt or taken, every one of us will search and kill for you. At least give us a chance to prepare.”
What he said made sense, but it hurt her this wasn’t for her. “Is this because you’re worried I’ll hurt someone? Or that I’ll go to Kevin and Trevor and give Janie over to them?”
He leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms. “Don’t be like that. Of course I’m worried about you. You have no idea how afraid I was when I found Lorelei. I’d just tried calling you, and she was screaming for you. If I hadn’t had her bleeding in my arms and unconscious, I would’ve tried to find you. But I called Ryder to get someone to you. Thank God Janie had given you the phone back, because he traced it before Kevin destroyed it. I was terrified that whole time, imagining the worst. I was beyond relieved when they said they’d found you.”
She hadn’t thought about what he had gone through in those moments. If it hadn’t been for him finding Lorelei right when he did and calling Ryder, no one would’ve found her. She’d be dead. It was hard to admit she’d put herself in that situation just because she was a bitch. Oh, jeez, she’d even told Janie she wasn’t a gift from God, yet Janie had given her the very thing to save her in time.
“I know you hate Janie,” he continued, “but I don’t think you’d do anything to hurt her. I did—when she was in the hospital, and you were looking at her the way you were, saying everything you could to get her put away—what you said about our baby . . .” He stared at her as if he was trying to figure out if she still wished for the baby’s death. “I thought you’d do anything to see her burn. For a full week or two I believed you’d get back at me by hurting her, and I couldn’t believe I’d almost cut her out of my life for you. But now”—he glanced at Maura—“seeing you protective of her and how you were with Lorelei, I don’t think you’re the same person. I feel it—you’ve changed. I mean, you’re angry with me; I see that, but you’re not out wishing for the worst on anyone.”
His dark eyes searched her face, like he was making sure he believed in what he was saying. “I hope that includes Janie and the baby we lost, and it’s not just hopeful thinking on my part. Because I like to think our baby is in Heaven, and I’d hate to sit here with a girl wishing something else.”
Kylie immediately shook her head, setting free the tears she’d been holding back. It was the moment between them that haunted her. Instead of focusing her anger on his lies to cover up all his guilt, she directed it at a dead baby. At Janie. It sickened her daily to think about what she’d said to them, and she didn’t blame him for having to walk away from her. It just hurt. Being angry was easier than admitting she was broken over the fact Logan had something more precious with Janie than he ever had with her. “I never should’ve said that. Any of it.” She sucked in a breath, startled by how emotional she sounded. “I’m so sorry. I wish your baby was here with you now. I wish you could raise him or her with Janie. And with Ryder.”
He let out a low laugh as he turned his head away. “Yeah, well, it won’t happen. But it’s nice to at least have that acknowledgement we were going to be a family. We know what we lost, and we can lean on each other when it hurts. It hurts a lot. She has a nursery she had started next to their room. For their baby, not mine. She goes in there every day, and I hear her praying, asking both babies to forgive her and wishing for them to be okay.” He released a heavy breath. “I always forget they were having one of their own. It sucks.”
Kylie darted her hand across the table, grabbing his. “Oh, sorry.”
He surprised her by holding her hand when she pulled back. “Let me have this with you. Thank you for apologizing. I guess it’s confusing how I’m so angry about it when I’d gone so long hiding it all, but I am. I see a little face sometimes, where I can’t tell if it’s a boy or girl, but just a little baby. I didn’t protect my baby, and it kills me.” He swallowed hard, his eyes glassing up. “Still, I shouldn’t have walked out on you the way I did.”
“It’s okay.” She didn’t know what was happening, but he wasn’t looking at her with hate; he was looking at her like her Logan. “I deserved all of it. I’m a monster.”
“No, Hood.” He inclined his head toward Maura. “If there’s anyone who deserves to call you that, it’s her. And I saw her clinging to you like she would a big sister. She’s watching, making sure I don’t hurt you, too. You’re not a monster.”
Warmth slid over her skin, and she laughed out a cry. “You called me Hood.”
A very Logan Grimm smile stretched over his lips. “You’ll always be my Little Hood, Kylie.”
She laughed, covering her face. “I feel so stupid.”
“I’m the one embarrassed. I’m supposed to be talking you into either staying here completely locked up or moving to Ryder’s, but I feel like I’m about to cry.” He gave her a nervous smile. “I’m supposed to convince you to come to Ryder’s where you’ll be trained. If, of course, I can’t get you to see this is where you really need to be. They want you there, but I don’t—not if you’re getting what you need here.”
She lowered her hands, not showing the twinge of sadness at hearing him say he didn’t want her there while everyone else was thinking she should get out. “Train me for what?”
“In case we never catch Kevin and Trevor,” he said seriously. “You need to take care of yourself and anyone around you if they come after you. We haven’t spotted them, but they’re not gone. Janie says she feels Trevor.”
A shiver crept down her spine, and she even peeked behind her as though they’d appear out of thin air. Kevin had barely had her; she could only imagine what Janie and Lorelei must feel, knowing Trevor and Kevin were free. “You’re training her, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. We had to get her eating healthier, but she’s finally retaining muscle and not feeling drained like she used to be.” He glanced at the mural of the angel. “But, yeah, she’s training hard. Still, if Kevin or Trevor get her, I don’t know if she’d survive.” His jaw clenched, and he kept staring at the painting. “That’s the Little Moon, you know? How I envision her. Janie says she sees her in her head when she wants to give up. She sees her roaring at monsters, ready to fight. So I painted that so she’d always remember why she doesn’t give up.”
It hurt to listen to him talk about Janie like this, but it was peaceful too. Just seeing how badly he wanted Janie to live, his faith in their stories. It gave her hope someone would want her that way. That’s when it hit her: he was supposed to be the one who wanted her that way, and he was once again staring at Janie. “On my birthday,” she said, “when you were telling me she had her own story, you meant she was the Little Moon, the goddess.”
An apologetic smile crossed his face. “You would’ve hated me if I told you, especially on your birthday.”
“I would’ve,” she admitted, smiling though as she studied the painting. “Why does she look older? Why didn’t you make her look just like Janie?”
“This is how I’ve always envisioned the Little Moon, even before Janie was born and my dad clarified that’s who she was.” He sighed, his gaze darting to the painting. “They said the Little Moon wasn’t an angel, just something more. But I always saw black wings on her. Ryder liked them,
so I made it seem like I put them on her for him, since he calls her his angel.”
Kylie wiped a tear from her cheek. “I can’t stop crying. I hate feeling so weak.”
“Crying’s good.” His eyes trailed down her cheeks. “You know, I was here a lot when this place opened. There were a lot of times I overheard some group therapy sessions. When I was doing the murals in here, a little girl, she was maybe twelve, came rushing in.
“She didn’t see me at first, so I stayed quiet and kept painting while she cried. I saw her grab a book, then she yelled out, throwing it toward me. I thought she was angry I was in here, then I realized the book had upset her.
“I decided to talk to her when she noticed me. I took the book to her, and I asked her what was wrong. She explained to me that any time she had sessions, she felt like she was experiencing everything all over again. So much so she couldn’t hold back her tears. I told her that was understandable and no reason to be angry. She disagreed.
“She explained how no one in her family thought you should cry, or at least you shouldn’t let anyone see you cry, because it was weak. She told me about girls laughing at her, calling her a crybaby, but the poor girl had every reason to cry, you know? But she wouldn’t have it, not even when I admitted I cried sometimes.
“Anyway, I wasn’t having luck with her, but I realized she was curious about my painting of the Little Moon. If you get close, you can see tears on her face. She was shocked I’d put them there. She knew the Little Moon was supposed to be a warrior goddess.” He gestured to her sword and the battle about to ensue. “I told her the Little Moon wasn’t afraid to cry, to show her tears even before the monsters she was about to face.
“I told her a story about Janie, when she was her age. It was eerily similar to everything the girl was going through—so it seemed fitting.”
“What was the story?” She wasn’t going to let him tell her some story about himself without telling her everything.
He sighed, rubbing her hand. “Janie had been at my house, and this was before we started dating. I was playing video games with my friends, and she was reading some book. Suddenly, she cried out, and the book went flying across the room.
“She looked horrified when we all turned toward her, and she ran out of the room. I followed her and found her crying in Dad’s office. I guess the story she was reading had a female character that everyone called strong because she didn’t cry. She didn’t understand why that was always the case in books about girls and women. If the character ever cried, readers and the characters in the book called them weak. But it got to her most that people in real life believe crying is weakness. She said sometimes she just couldn’t pretend it was all okay and smile.
“Janie smiles a lot when she’s sad; it’s a mask. I tried to convince her it was okay to cry—and anyone who called these characters strong for not crying while calling those who cried weak was not seeing the bigger picture.
“It didn’t help her, so I told her she was beautiful when she cried. She was—is,” he said with a faraway look in his eyes. “Her eyes always get greener when she cries, like the green in them roars because the gold dims.” He chuckled. “Then she got upset because she thought I was saying she was only pretty because of her eyes. I said it wasn’t her eyes I was talking about. I meant she was showing me her heart in its purest form. All that raw emotion. No more fear of what I thought—of what anyone thought. She was bravely letting it all out.
“I told her brave, strong—great—girls weren’t afraid to cry. Back then, she didn’t know they centered the prophecy around her, but she knew the Little Moon stories. I said the Little Moon cries, but she roars in darkness too. I said it was okay to put on a brave face when you feel you must, but in no way does it make you stronger than those who are not afraid to show their tears. Because those who do have more than likely held them in for far too long already. And I reminded her that angels cry when they are nearest God, and God would not look upon her any less lovingly for showing Him her whole heart and soul with those tears. So now she smiles with tears streaming down her face. Just like the mural. I wanted her to remember that, and I wanted other girls to see it, too.”
He gave her a shaky smile, squeezing her hand. “You should, too. If those tears are a part of you, wear them. They don’t make you pathetic—they show your strength. They show after everything that hurt you, you’re still here.”
Realizing she’d been holding her breath, she sucked in fresh air as she took in his painting. It was there, the pain and sorrow was visible in the Little Moon’s teary, hazel eyes. But she still roared, still prepared to fight nightmares. “You really love her so much.”
His eyes didn’t widen with shock or fear. There was complete acceptance of his feelings. “Yeah, I do. But I’m not the one she’s meant for—that’s all Ryder. My new goal is to make sure he doesn’t mess up with her. If I get to be there, I’ll be happy.”
“Did you care about me at all?” she blurted, then held up her hand. “Don’t answer that. I don’t know why I even asked. I shouldn’t even focus on that after your story.” It was one of those things she was working on with Gabriel, thinking about others and letting their stories be about them without getting upset she wasn’t the focus.
“It’s okay. You have to know I cared about you.” He rolled his lip into his mouth, revealing a bruise on his chin. “I still care about you.”
Kylie pulled her eyes from his. She didn’t want to make more of what he was saying. “Not the way I want you to.”
“Which is why I ended things.” Tension rolled off him with every shift in his seat. He was trying to help, but he knew he was hurting her. “I don’t think we should talk about us. I’m here because you want to leave.”
“And that’s none of your concern.” She wanted to stay calm, but his very presence was destroying her. It tainted his efforts to help with every word he spoke, because Jane was behind it all.
“It’s my concern, because I’ll come for you if either of them gets a hold of you.” He actually looked like he could kill anyone with his bare hands right then. “I won’t sit back and let you get hurt, Kylie. All this shit between us needs to be set aside. Your safety is important to me. Kevin will use you against Lorelei.”
She sucked in a breath, not having thought about that. As far as she was concerned, her existence hurt Lorelei and Maura. The only way to do anything for them would be to get out of their lives.
Logan lowered his voice. “Hood, I’m here for you, whether or not you see me. If I have to hide my whereabouts for you to get on with your life, I will. But I won’t let you walk out of here without protection. And I’m sorry about Janie. I see how my words hurt you, but I swear I tell you them because I believe they can help. I’ve seen them help, and I just want you to feel comforted. She’s what I know. She’s my truth.”
Kylie looked away from him. If she stared at his face while he preached how much he cared, about how he’d, personally, keep watch over her, she’d cave and find herself back to hoping things with him would work out and go off to Ryder’s only to see Logan pining over Janie in person. And as much as she wanted to hate Janie, she was tired of it. She hated being hateful.
But that’s what Logan would stir in her. He would be in her life, but not hers, and she wasn’t ready to sit by and watch him ‘care’ while being wrapped up in Janie. Even if he had good intentions, she wasn’t ready to live it more than she already did by sitting in a place dedicated to that very same girl.
Her eyes settled on Maura and Gabriel. Maura wasn’t making the progress Gabriel insisted she and Lorelei were. She was safe in the center, though. And there were times she opened up. But if Kylie left, what would become of her stepsister? Would she find out in a month that Maura had killed herself? Would Maura never learn and accept that Ryder wasn’t interested in her? Would she be dooming Maura to a life of being locked up?
Maura glanced her way, her eyes pleading for Kylie not to leave her alone. God, Maura ha
ted being alone. Even if Kylie swore Maura was only envisioning her actual sister when she looked at her, she felt Maura was her responsibility. After all, Maura’s entire life could’ve been better had Kylie taken care of her.
“I’ll stay here,” she said, not tearing her attention from Maura. “I hate being here, surrounded by everything Janie, but it helps Maura and Lorelei. They believe your stories like many of the women here do. So if she needs to stay, I will. I can’t leave her.”
Logan pulled his hand free, patting hers. “No, I don’t think she’d survive without you here.” He got up, but he leaned across the table to kiss the top of her head. “Just remember we’re here if you need anything—I’m here. Good luck, Hood.”
Finally, and though it hurt worse than it did the last time he told her goodbye, she turned to him and smiled. “You too, Logan.”
He gave her a closed-mouth smile before he walked away, giving Gabriel a two-finger salute. Then he was gone.
Kylie did what he said, though. She let her tears fall—but she got up and walked toward Maura, smiling at her poor stepsister. “Come on, Maura.” She held out a hand for her. “They’re having an art class in the auditorium. I’ll help you draw those angels you like.”
Gabriel smiled as he stood up. He handed Kylie her sketchbook and gave her a little pat on the back. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She nodded, taking Maura’s hand. “We’ll be there.”
“Can you draw a picture of Ryder for me?” Maura asked as Kylie led her out of the library.
Kylie cast a questioning look at Gabriel, and he simply shrugged and walked away. So, she sighed and decided to not be so hard on Maura. “Yeah. We’ll make him an angel. He can wear black and have black wings since he likes to wear black all the time.”