That's all he had been doing this evening. If he wasn't running a hand through his hair, it was running down his face. His agitation and rage for the treatment that Doni suffered would not simmer down. No matter how hard he tried to picture her sweet smiling face, safe at home, he saw a damaged, broken Doni chained to the wall. He couldn't help it.
Derek had offered to process the room with Logan declining. He needed to stop picturing her chained to the wall whenever he glanced at the chains. He couldn't do that if he wasn't staring at it. He couldn't help but stare. He figured the longer he stared, the horrible picture he conjured in his mind would dissipate. Because the room remained empty. Doni was safe at home. But the longer he stared, the more the picture morphed from a disturbing fragment to a grotesque horror.
"It's been a week. Whoever it was cleaned up the moment he knew he lost her. The best thing for us now is…" Derek stood up from hunching down near the floor, making no mistake to forget one inch of the door. "She needs to remember."
Logan came closer to Derek, the light enhancing his menacing glare. "I don't want her to remember. Not this. She can remember anything…but this." His hand made another trail down his face. "Her nightmares…I don't even want to hear them tonight. Shit, I can see myself having them now."
"Let's see if Bolt found anything outside. Are you done in there?" Derek asked, putting his supplies back into his kit.
"Yeah, let's get some air. This place is really starting to mess with me." Logan didn't wait for a response as he made his way out of the dark tunnel and into the fresh night air.
He spotted Bolt near his four-wheeler, making quick long strides towards him as he tried to flee from the weight that sat heavily on his shoulders. "Find anything, Bolt? Any little thing?"
Bolt looked up from his phone as Logan towered over him. He backed up a step from the intimidating stance. "Uh…no, Sheriff. I didn't find anything."
"Damn it!" Logan shouted as he turned around in frustration, stalking away from Bolt to get some air. He was surrounded by the peaceful night, the fresh woodsy scent floating through his nostrils, yet his chest refused to draw in a decent breath.
Derek watched as Logan walked off, joining Bolt at the four-wheeler. Bolt looked at Derek with a little bit of confusion and a tremendous amount of concern in his eyes. "Is the Sheriff alright? I've never seen him act like this."
"Shit, Bolt. I don't know if he's alright. I'm not even alright. So I'm going to say, no, he's not alright. It's hard being down in that dark pit. I was only thinking one thing down there. What did she go through? She was locked in that room, chained, beaten maybe, and…who knows what else. It's obvious. It's so obvious that I can't believe my eyes. But the sheriff has fallen hard for Doni. If I was thinking about her chained and locked up and scared out of her mind. Just imagine what the hell he was thinking. The lack of evidence isn't helping either. It's dark out. Maybe we'll find something outside tomorrow in the daylight. We didn't have much daylight left when we got here."
Bolt shook his head with confidence. "I don't know. I checked real good."
Derek tried not to roll his eyes. "I'm not saying you didn't. I'm just saying we need to double check when the sun is on our side for time."
Bolt shrugged, yet squared his shoulders with a bit of defiance. "Fine, but I didn't miss anything. And I did find out who owns this part of the woods. I did find that."
"That's something at least. Who owns it?"
"Oh, you're gonna like this. Mr. Barten himself, the old cranky bastard."
"Oh, joy. Can't wait to tell the sheriff that one. He'll just love talking to him," Derek muttered as he set his stuff on top of the four-wheeler. "I'll be right back."
He made his way over to Logan, noticing how badly Logan's hand shook as he replaced his phone to its spot on his belt. "You alright, Sheriff?"
"No, Derek, I'm not. I have to go. Secure the area and we'll come back tomorrow to make another sweep," Logan said distractedly as he made his way to the four-wheeler.
"Okay." Derek followed him, wondering why the sudden need to leave. "Umm…so Bolt found the owner to this area. You aren't gonna like it."
Logan hopped onto the four-wheeler with a weariness that appeared to age him within seconds. "Just spit it out, Derek. I really need to go."
"Mr. Barten."
Logan cranked the engine. "Don't call me unless it's an emergency. I don't need to give you the definition of an emergency, do I?"
"You just take care of Doni, Sheriff." Derek stepped back as Logan raced off into the darkness, a small sliver of light leading his way.
***
Seth stopped pacing in front of the bay window when the front door opened. "I tried everything. I hated calling you, bro. I totally screwed up."
"It's fine. To be honest, I expected a call much sooner. What happened? Where is she?" Logan asked, glancing around the room, a tired hand combing through his hair.
"She's in the bathroom. She locked the door on me and now she's refusing to respond to me. Don't go yet. I gotta say something first." Seth shuffled his feet a bit before looking at Logan. "She stood in front of the window pacing a hole into the floor, just like I did waiting for you to get home. I made her tea and offered it to her. And suddenly we were talking about Stacy."
"She doesn't like tea. And I'm sorry about Stacy. That's my fault."
"I figured it out myself she doesn't like tea. Oh, and you have a wet spot on the carpet. What do you mean it's your fault?"
Logan looked confused at the carpet comment, but really didn't care at the moment. "I told her to talk to you about Stacy. Make you feel better. I was just being sort of selfish, though. I said it in the hopes it would make her feel better while I was gone. You know, something she had to do. I'm sorry. I need to go check on her."
Seth grabbed him by the shoulder, Logan jerked at the contact. He swung around with an expression that spoke volumes. "Geez, Logan, I'm not gonna hit you. It's fine you told her to do that. She did make me feel better. She's really good at putting my relationship with Stacy in a perspective that I should've considered a long time ago. And oddly, I think it was making her feel better. She actually took a seat on the couch and we talked for a while. I didn't grab you to hit you. I grabbed you to stop you before you talked to her. I have to tell you something."
Logan rubbed a hand over his face trying to compose himself and rein in his emotions. "I can't take much more, Seth. I can't even tell you what we found. No words can describe the…just tell me."
Seth blew out a silent breath, wondering if it was a good idea to say anything. "I don't know if it was the distraction of talking about Stacy, or the tea, which I now know she doesn't like, or…I don't know. But I would tell her something and she would respond, a few times even mentioning something like my mom always said or my brother always said. She didn't even realize she said anything."
"That's good to hear."
Seth shifted his feet as he finger-combed his hair. "Yeah, this last part might not be good to hear. She remembered something about…a guy named Brent. I'm pretty sure her boyfriend. That's when she spilled the tea, said you would hate her and ran to the bathroom. She hasn't responded to me since. She didn't even care she remembered something. The only thing she cared about was the thought of you hating her. Don't hate her, Logan."
Words almost failed him. "I would never hate her, Seth."
Logan walked away without another word spoken, making his way to the bathroom as fast as his feet would carry him. His brain had turned to mush the moment he received Seth's call. He knew he should've never left her. But he had to. He repeated that, the knowledge of his choice still refusing to sink in. How in the hell could he do his job as the Sheriff and take care of the woman who was swiftly building a residence inside his heart? It felt impossible to manage both. For the first time in his life, he was on the verge of putting his job second. Even the mere thought of doing that befuddled him. He was the sheriff. That should always come first. Always!
&nbs
p; But since the moment he met her he had been putting her first. Who was he kidding? She wasn't building a spot inside his heart. She already took it over and surrounded him with such a love that he couldn't even function correctly. He knocked quietly on the door. "Honey, it's Logan. Can I come in?"
Silence echoed back. He pressed his ear to the door trying to make out even the tiniest sounds coming from inside. A cry, a whimper, a movement of any kind. But he heard nothing. The silence was worse than anything else. His heart started to race as he grabbed the handle twisting lightly. Resistance hit his hand. Seth told him she locked herself in. Why did he expect it to magically open for him?
"Honey? Please, can you answer me? Please open the door."
He knocked again, barely tapping on the door. He had no idea the state of mind she was in. He didn’t want to scare her with sudden loud noises. Or did he need to make loud noises and snap her out of whatever funk she was in. He had no clue what was going on. He didn't care about this Brent guy. He didn't matter. No other man mattered. The only thing that mattered was she would never walk out of his life without him fighting to the death. She was worth fighting for.
He pressed his head against the door as the heavy weight of guilt and sorrow flooded his veins, seeping deep into his bones. "Honey, please open the door for me. I'm sorry for leaving you. I don't hate you. I will never hate you."
He twisted the handle again, mocking himself into wishful thinking. "I need you to open the door." He shook the handle with a little bit more aggression. "Doni, open the door. You're starting to worry me. Please don't do this to me. Whatever it is you're thinking, we can talk about it. Please, don't shut me out. Open the door, sweetheart."
After another minute of pure silence cloaking the room, he pushed away from the door, and ran to the kitchen. He barely missed colliding with Seth, who had started to pace in the kitchen while he waited for the pot of coffee he put on to finish.
"Is she alright? Did she say anything?"
Logan politely pushed Seth out of the way, dropping to his knees in front of the sink. "She won't answer me. She's not opening the door. I don't hear anything coming inside the bathroom. Not one sound, Seth." He grabbed one of his small toolboxes he kept inside the house from the cupboard, slamming it on the counter. "Shit, I've never been so scared in my life. No sound. Nothing. Just nothing."
"She wouldn't hurt herself," Seth said, his voice not conveying the confidence it should have.
Logan grabbed the small box that held his tiny precision screwdrivers. "I hope not, Seth. But honestly, she's been through a lot. She's…she's been coping better than most people would in the same situation. I should've never left."
Seth didn't like the devastation he heard in his brother's voice and followed him as he ran back to the bathroom. He watched as Logan quickly picked the lock. He stepped back, at the last minute, when Logan opened the door.
Fragments of glass hit Logan's eyes first. His head swung in a quick fashion finding Doni huddled in the corner between the toilet and the shower. Her head sat back leaning against the wall with her eyes closed. She held her hands tightly to her chest, a slow trickle of blood making its way down to the floor.
"Honey!" Logan cried as he rushed to her, the sound of glass crunching beneath his feet.
He grabbed her hands without asking, checking her body for the source of the blood. He sighed in relief when he realized it came from her right hand. "What happened, sweetheart?"
He didn't wait for a reply as he scooped her up and carried her out of the bathroom. The minute his strong arms wrapped around her, she started crying. He didn't care. Any sound from her lips sounded like music to his ears. He cringed, thinking of the silence he endured just moments before. "It's alright, darling. I swear, everything's alright now. I'm not mad. I don't hate you. Nothing of the sort. Do you hear me?"
She responded by crying harder, burying her head into his chest as he walked out of his room down the hallway to the other bathroom. Seth popped his head out of that bathroom.
"I grabbed the first aid kit out for you. Should I call Kat? The doc—anyone else?" Seth asked, catching himself before he set her off by saying one of the words she hated.
"No. It looks like a small cut. If I think it needs stitches, then I'll have you call Kat. Go check the coffee," Logan said, dismissing his brother.
Seth nodded and walked away as Logan shut the door to the bathroom. He looked around the bathroom wondering how he could clean her hand without putting her down. He decided it wouldn't be possible. He kicked his leg up, knocking the toilet seat down. The loud slamming noise barely penetrated her senses. Even if it had, her body shook from the loud sobs assailing her body. He sat down on the toilet and held her, gently rocking her as he whispered sweet encouraging words.
It felt like hours, when in reality, only minutes ticked by. Her sobs lessened to small cries to scattered breaths to an even breathing. Even then, he continued to rock her with his soft voice echoing in her ears, down her body, and into her heart.
Finally, her silence got to him again. "Talk to me, honey, please."
"I'm sorry, Logan," a tiny frightening voice answered.
"That's not what I want to hear. You have nothing to be sorry about. Absolutely nothing."
"Did…did Seth say anything?"
He rested his chin on top of her head as he grasped her tighter. "He did. He mentioned you had a few memories of your mom and brother. Small things, but that's good."
He kissed her hair, inhaling a bout of her enchanting aroma. "He also mentioned another memory that you had of a guy named Brent. Probably a boyfriend. And that's good as well."
He felt her sharp intake of breath as she lifted her eyes to his. "Why would you say that? You don't want—"
He grabbed a kiss to silence her words. Feeling greedy and a sense of panic, she opened her mouth to take more than what he offered. He happily accepted her intentions and kissed her thoroughly before pulling away. "I feel like we've had this conversation. A few times. Where are you?"
She looked confused as she glanced around. "In the bathroom."
He grinned as he kissed her lips again. "Try again."
The confusion intensified as she glanced around again. "Minnesota. Or did I black out or something? Are we somewhere else?"
He chuckled as he squeezed her tightly for a brief moment. "No. Stop worrying and thinking in those terms. Where are you right this moment?"
She felt his hot breath on her cheek, his soft hands holding her tight, and his calming heartbeat against her body. "In your arms?"
"Yes. In my arms. Where you belong. I don't care about this Brent guy or any other guy. You're mine and I'll do anything to keep it that way."
She hid her head into his chest as tears wanted to escape again. "I don't deserve you."
"Stop. Please don't do this again, honey. You scared me. Scared the life right out of Seth. I will never ever hate you. Your memories are going to come. Some might scare the hell out of you and some might not make you feel a thing. We will get through each one. But not like this. Not with you hurting yourself." Logan looked at her hand as he stood up. "Let's clean that hand now."
He tried to release her, experiencing a strange déjà vu when she refused to loosen her grip. "You gotta let me set you down. I don't want your hand to get infected. Let's clean it. Please, honey."
For a brief second he thought she retreated into herself again and decided to make this task more difficult than he wanted it to be. Until he finally felt her arms relax and a heavy breath leave her lips. He tenderly let her down from his grip, grabbing her hand as he turned on the water.
He found the right temperature and washed her hand. He inspected it for a moment, making sure that no glass was wedged inside her wound marring the side of her hand near her pinkie, thankful that it was a mild cut. He didn't think she would need stitches. He hated seeing the small cut, the tiny nicks covering her knuckles and part of her fingers. He put her hand underneath the warm water one
more time and gently rinsed it until he felt satisfied.
He pulled the towel from the rack and wrapped her hand up. He grabbed the first aid kit, opening it as he removed the gauze and ointment. He set them on the edge of the counter and reached for her hand.
"I didn't mean to break the mirror. I hope you don't think I intentionally hurt myself. I wouldn't do that," she whispered.
He needed to find the right words before he responded. He worked in silence as he removed the towel from her hand. He was happy to see not much bleeding and felt confident she didn't need stitches. He picked up the ointment, squeezing some onto his hand and started gently rubbing it onto her wound. She winced in pain, but remained silent otherwise.
He rubbed his hand slightly on the towel to get the ointment off his hand and reached for the gauze. He wrapped her hand with care, thinking the entire time on how to respond. When he finished, he held her hand rubbing his thumb over the wound with a tender caress.
"Are you mad at me, Logan?"
His eyes made a path from her hand to her shirt where the mangled evidence of her injury glared into his face. He finished his ascent to her beautiful, worried face. "Honey, I will always help you when you get hurt. But I'll be honest, it's hard as hell to look at you hurt. Your bruises are finally starting to fade, and now I see this." He raised her hand and closed his eyes in a tortured pain.
He let her hand go as he opened his eyes and cradled her face. "I am not mad. I am, however, worried. I need you to promise me you'll never lock yourself in the bathroom, or any other room for that matter, again. Not seeing you, not knowing if you're okay, hearing that horrible silence…I just can't handle that. I don't care about the mirror. That's fixable. But if you get hurt in a way that's not fixable, well, then we have a big problem. Please, just talk to me next time. Let me in."
"I promise."
Escaping Memories Page 15