Chapter 111
-Hailey-
My boots felt like they were made of lead.
The upstairs hallway was a tunnel, but there was no light at the end of it. Only Logan’s door.
I stopped in front of it and my hand hovered over the knob. Knocking felt like a courtesy we were way beyond. I didn’t knock when I’d walked into Jake’s office.
I turned the handle and pushed.
The living room was a dark cave, lit only by the security lights bleeding in through the windows. My eyes adjusted slowly, picking out the shape of him on the couch.
He was sprawled on his back with one leg hanging off the edge, and the other – the bad one–stretched out straight. He had a half–empty bottle of whiskey in his right hand, resting on his stomach. His left arm was draped over his face.
I closed the door behind me. The soft click of the latch sounded like a gunshot in the silence.
I stood there, just inside the door. My mind was scrambling for a place to start… an apology that could possibly encompass the scale of this.
But before I could force one out, his voice cut through the dark. It was low, rough from smoke and liquor, but unnervingly calm. He hadn’t moved his arm away from his face.
“What happened? Was he there?”
The question was so direct. Blatantly missing the fire I’d been bracing for. It threw me completely.
“Uh, no… and Stella’s okay,” I said. The words came out in a rushed, defensive jumble. “She’s shaken up. A little bruised. But she’s fine. They didn’t… they didn’t hurt her.”
Silence. I could hear his breathing, slow and steady.
“And you?” he asked in a flat tone.
“I’m fine.” A lie. I was busting apart on the inside.
“My father? My cousin?”
“They’re fine… everyone’s fine.” The word ‘fine‘ was becoming meaningless.
Finally, he moved. His arm slid from his face and dropped to the couch with a thud. His head turned, and his eyes found me in the gloom.
Even in the dim light, the green was intense.
11:46 Fri, Jan 23
Chapter 111
They were also hollow with a pain that wasn’t just physical. They tracked over me, from my dusty boots to my tense shoulders, like he was verifying my fine for himself.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured quietly. It felt cheap and useless.
More silence.
I couldn’t stand the darkness anymore. I felt like it was judging me, too. I crossed the room, and my hand fumbled along the wall until I found the switch.
The overhead light flickered on, casting a dim, amber light over the scene. I was expecting it to reveal more wreckage, but there was none. Not physically, anyway.
I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
I walked back to the couch and sat on the very edge, near his feet, perching there like a bird ready to fly away.
I didn’t touch him… I wasn’t sure I had the right.
God, I should’ve left the light off. The silence he was lobbing at me felt more like daggers now than it had in the dark.
His eyes didn’t leave me. “Fine,” he repeated. A low, dangerous rumble. It didn’t sound meaningless coming from him. “Everyone’s just fuckin‘ fine.”
“I said I was sorry,” I whispered.
“Will sorry un–break a bottle of thirty–year Macallan?” he shot back.
The calm was finally cracking. “Will sorry explain why my father, my cousin, and my old lady thought it was a good goddamn idea to ride into a trap without me? What was the play, Hailey? What was so important you couldn’t fuckin‘ tell me?”
“Don’t blame me for your actions, Logan,” I said, with my own frustration rising to meet his. “YOU trashed the clubhouse. And that’s exactly why we couldn’t tell you.”
He closed his eyes tight, like I’d physically punched him. He took a long swig of whiskey.
“Listen,” I continued. “It was a message. For me. He took Stella to get to me.”
“And you didn’t think I’d wanna be the one to answer that message?” He pushed himself up straighter on the couch, wincing as he moved his leg. The whiskey sloshed in the bottle. “That’s my job. To stand between you and the people who want to send you… fuckin messages.”
The self–righteousness of it, after everything, made something snap inside me. “Your job?” I echoed. “You would’ve immediately gotten yourself killed on a suicide run, and you know it.”
His face went still.
“Better me than you,” he murmured.
11:46 Fri, Jan 23
Chapter 111
He held my gaze for what felt like an hour, then his eyes dropped to the bottle in his hand. Slowly, he brought it to his lips and took another swallow.
I couldn’t stand it. The passivity, the drinking, the tension.
I leaned forward and wrapped my fingers around the neck of the bottle. He didn’t fight me. I pulled it out of his hand and tipped it back. The whiskey burned my throat, and I welcomed it.
He was watching me again, with something unreadable in his eyes. Then he patted his pockets, pulled out a battered pack of cigarettes and a lighter.
I watched him shake one out, put it between his lips, and light it. He took a deep drag, held it, and exhaled a cloud of smoke that curled lazily toward the ceiling.
I’d never seen Logan smoke in here. The apartment was one of the few places he respected like that. The act felt like a deliberate ‘fuck this…fuck you…fuck everything‘
I stood up suddenly and let the momentum carry me across the room. I unlocked the window and shoved it open. The cool night air rushed in, and I stood there for a second with my back to him, breathing it in.
“The great Logan Nash,” I said to the darkness outside. “Blinded by rage. He knew you’d charge in without thinking. He knew I would show up without you. He told me.”
田
AD
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