by Julie Hall
“Hey.” I held up my hands in defense. “I never said it was. I was just trying to interpret your girl-coded speak.”
It was her turn to huff, and she folded her arms across her chest. “Well, you interpreted incorrectly.”
“If you say so,” I replied in a singsong voice.
A look of discomfort and disapproval had settled on his face. “Well, maybe that’s why the H . . . Hugo just let him go,” Kevin wondered out loud.
“Because Kaitlin thinks he’s hot?”
“No, of course not. Because he rescued her.” Kevin was clearly annoyed at me now too.
“Hugo? Your hermit mentor?” Kaitlin’s face twisted even further. “What was he doing there? Okay, now I’m beyond confused.”
Kevin’s face morphed from annoyed to smug. “Oh, I haven’t even gotten to the best part yet, Kaitlin. I’m not allowed to say in front of Audrey, but when she leaves I’ll tell you all about it.”
“Hey now. No fair. No talking behind my back.”
“It’s not talking behind your back when we tell you we’re going to be doing it,” Kevin argued. “Besides, once you have a talk with your—” he used his fingers as quotation marks, “—‘mentor,’ I’m looking forward to hearing more about it from you.”
“Cryptic much?”
He laughed at my obvious irritation. “Trust me, this is a good one.”
I didn’t know whether to laugh or be annoyed. “On a scale of clueless to extremely stupid, how dumb am I going to feel when I find out this big mystery?”
His smile couldn’t have gotten bigger. “What are a few steps above extremely stupid?”
“Oh, great.” I tried to run a hand through my hair but met crusty resistance. Yuck.
“Now, I have to know what’s going on. Audrey, skedaddle.” Kaitlin made a shooing motion with her hands.
“Are you kidding me? I just spent hours out of my mind with worry about you guys, and you’re kicking me out of your room so you can talk about me behind my back.”
“Audrey,” Kaitlin went on, “we’ve already established it’s not behind your back, because you not only know we are going to be talking about you, but you know what we are going to be talking about.”
“You both stink.” I stuck my tongue out at them as I rose from my chair. “I’m sure there are other people in this place just dying for me to visit. I’m going to go grace them with my presence instead.”
“Oh yes, you do that. I can think of one, how did you put it? Hot piece of man candy who is probably just dying for a visit.”
Too embarrassed to ask her for specifics, I scurried toward the door.
“Oh, Audrey,” she called before I slipped out.
I turned.
“You’ve got a little something-something going on here.” She indicated the hair on the right side of her head.
I pulled a chunk of my matted hair forward to find it fuchsia. “Shoot,” I muttered under my breath as I left the room. Kaitlin and Kevin’s laughter echoed all the way down the hall.
The room was empty. The rumpled bedding made it obvious it had been recently occupied, but Logan was no longer there.
I stared at the wrinkled sheets. It had taken me several silent pep talks to make it this far, and finding the room empty left me with a hollow feeling inside.
Logically I knew Logan wasn’t one to sit around with nothing to do. Heck, half the time he didn’t even make it to the healing center to get his wounds taken care of in the first place. But I couldn’t help but feel like he’d purposefully left without waiting to see me.
The comfort zone we created while fighting together always seemed to dissolve when we returned to our realm. Perhaps it was because things were just simpler on Earth. We were there for a job. We protected people, we fought the bad guys, there wasn’t much room to explore emotions, and accidental contact couldn’t result in exposed feelings. Our interactions, even as imperfect as they were on Earth, became downright dysfunctional in our realm.
I’d hoped it would be different this time. Apparently not.
I let out a disappointed sigh.
“He checked himself out about thirty minutes ago.” I jumped at the sound of Jonathon’s voice. He stood in the doorway wearing a white lab coat, arms crossed over his chest and a frown marring his handsome face. “Seemed to me like he was in quite a rush to get out of here.”
“Oh, well . . .” How exactly did he expect me to respond to that? “Logan has never really liked staying in the healing center longer than absolutely needed.”
“Funny you should mention it. I wondered about that myself. Thought it was kind of weird how antsy he was around here. The center usually has a calming effect on people.” Jonathon took a deep breath and then ran a hand though his brown hair, leaving a few strands out of place. “I ignored it for a while, but something about this whole situation wouldn’t settle with me. So, I checked his records.”
“You did what?” The tone of my voice was borderline shrill. I stepped back. What whole situation? What was he talking about?
“See the thing is, he used to have a typical pattern for a hunter. He came in regularly after missions to get checkups and always stayed the recommended amount of time before leaving, but then something changed.”
“Should you be telling me this? Isn’t there some patient-doctor confidentiality thing you should be adhering to?” Without realizing it, I’d taken a defensive posture with my arms crossed over my chest and my chin notched up. Jonathon plodded on, heedless of my body language.
“He rarely comes in after assignments anymore, and only if he’s severely injured. And rather than waiting the full time to recuperate, he jets almost as soon as he’s assigned a room. Do you happen to know what changed?”
I didn’t actually. Jonathon’s behavior was accusatory, but I didn’t know why. Rather than answer I just shook my head.
“I have an idea it has something to do with you.”
“Me?”
He nodded. “There was an obvious turning point in his patterns. It all started after you ended up in here for the first time. I think his aversion to this place is because of you.”
I stared at him slack-jawed for a full ten seconds before responding. “What you’re saying doesn’t even make sense. I don’t work here.”
“No, you don’t. But I do.”
“So?”
“So maybe there’s a reason Logan isn’t too keen to run into me.”
Oh. Suddenly I knew what this was about.
“And what do you believe that reason to be exactly?” I asked wearily.
“That’s actually what I’d like you to tell me.”
Silence stretched between us. Part of me wished we could keep avoiding this conversation. The other part knew it was already way overdue.
“You told me nothing was going on between the two of you.”
I sighed. “There wasn’t. I mean there isn’t. I mean nothing serious or anything.”
“Nothing serious?”
“I didn’t mean it like that.” I brought my hands up to scrub my face.
“Then how did you mean it?” When I just stood there staring at him, he went on. “Why did you request a new mentor, Audrey?”
“That is none of your business,” I snapped. I was not about to go into those details with him when I hadn’t been willing to talk about it with anyone else, not even my closest friends. When hurt filled his eye, I instantly regretted my harsh tone.
“I think maybe it is,” he stated softly. “Have you just been leading me on this whole time?”
The words made me want to scream. “What? Of course, not.”
“I didn’t want to believe that at first either, but the more I look back, the more little things add up. I feel like a complete idiot. Here I thought we were working toward something really meaningful, but all I ever was to you was a nice placeholder until what you really wanted came to his senses.”
Did we have to talk about this here—like this? My brain was m
uddled at best, and he deserved so much more than a casual brush-off.
“Jonathon, it wasn’t like that.” I reached a hand out to do . . . well . . . I wasn’t sure exactly. He flinched away from my touch.
“Just don’t.” His words came out gruff and harsh as he held up a hand to ward me off. He’d never spoken to me in that tone before. “Just tell me how long it’s been going on. How long have you been with him behind my back?”
I sucked in a sharp breath of air. His words were hurtful and full of spite, and whatever kernel of truth might have existed in his version of events was completely overshadowed by the falsehoods he’d convinced himself of.
“We’re not together,” I argued almost desperately, but my own words from before were incriminating enough. Go ahead and shove me into someone else’s arms. Just don’t be upset when I don’t fall back into yours, I’d yelled at Logan in front of Jonathon. It was no wonder he felt betrayed.
He let out a harsh laugh. “Oh yeah, you expect me to believe that? You expect me to believe you don’t have feelings for him?”
I reminded myself Jonathon spoke from a place of deep hurt, but he was getting dangerously close to making me lose my cool. Taking a deep breath and holding it for a count of three helped me simmer down.
“This,” I gestured between the two of us, “is about us.”
“Let me guess, you’re about to tell me ‘it’s not you, it’s me’?”
“No, that wasn’t what I was going to say. That’s a stupid saying anyway.” There was no coming back from what I was about to say. “We’re just not right together.”
“How can you even know? There was never a real chance for us to figure it out. There was always someone standing in the way.”
I opened my mouth, but then stopped for a moment. Was he right? Even if Logan hadn’t been physically present, had the idea of him ruined what could have been with Jonathon? Had I ever truly given the two of us a chance? Maybe I had strung Jonathon along. If Logan had never been, would I have learned to be happy with Jonathon?
They were impossible questions to answer. The reality was there was a Logan, and even though I wasn’t with him, might never be with him, my feelings for him were as real as he was.
“Jonathon, I don’t know what you want me to say right now.”
“Yeah.” He looked away so I was staring at his profile. “I guess a small part of me hoped . . .” The unfinished sentence turned stale. “I never really meant anything to you.”
“No, Jonathon, that’s not true. You’re amazing.” I recaptured his gaze and wouldn’t let go. “You’re thoughtful and caring. You cherish the people you’re closest to. You work so hard to let others know they are important and have worth. You make me smile and laugh, and you’ve lifted my spirit during some of my darkest times.”
With each declaration, something in his gaze deadened, and I couldn’t understand why.
“You’re one of the most important people to me,” I finished. It was true. It was all true. Even though I had finally acknowledged to myself that what I felt for him wasn’t what it should be for us to be a couple, all those things were still so true.
“And yet you’re willing to throw it all away?”
I could have argued that he was the one forcing my hand, but the truth was if he hadn’t, I would have eventually worked up the courage to end things between us. My heart ached. What had I gotten us both into? “I don’t want to throw you away.” I took a step toward him. He countered with a step back.
“But you don’t want to be with me anymore?”
“Not in the way you want us to be together.”
“Meaning, you’re with Logan.”
He was so fixated on that. I let out a bitter laugh. “No, I already told you, Logan and I aren’t together.” I gestured to the empty room around us. “He didn’t even want to wait around for me to visit him.” My heart pinched.
“But you want to be with him?”
Why was he putting me through this? Did it make him feel better to see me miserable?
“Honestly, I don’t know. If you really want to know, I won’t lie. Yes, I feel something for him. But in our case I don’t know that it’s ever going to be enough.”
His eyes carried a strange mix of sadness and bitterness as he held my gaze for a moment longer. “It would have been enough for me.”
And with that he turned and left me standing in the empty room, wondering how I’d messed up so badly and if I’d just seen someone I cared about walk, not only out of the room, but out of my life.
23
The Effects of the Wind
Numb.
That’s what I was.
My feet carried me out of the healing center and through the city, but the active part of my brain had disengaged. I didn’t remember entering the training center, or walking down the hallways and into the locker room, but that’s where I found myself.
Of all the places I could have gone, I found myself in the almost deserted building at one of the few times I didn’t have to be there.
I stood staring at the lockers and shook my head as if I hoped to dislodge something. I’d long ago lost track of time, but it must have been just shy of the early morning hours. The smart thing to do would be go back to my room and get some much-needed rest, but instead I stood under the shower spray, letting the hot water massage some of the pent-up tension from my body.
For the first few minutes, I stood there watching the red-and-black stained water circle the drain as the battle filth was finally washed clean from my skin and hair. When the water ran clear, I robotically finished my shower. Occasionally my thoughts attempted to stick on a subject for deeper introspection, but when that happened I focused on the mundane task at hand.
Numb.
I wanted to remain numb for a little while longer.
When I was finished and dressed, I stared at my reflection and wasn’t able to hold onto the numbness anymore. The image staring back at me spoke of hidden pain. Lack of sleep and overexertion made my face pale and gaunt in the harsh lighting. I wasn’t standing tall, but rather hunched in upon myself as if protecting my vital organs from attack. My numbness cracked and splintered like a dropped mirror. Pieces of it fell away to expose the unattractive backing hidden beneath the shiny façade.
The reflection in the mirror confused me. We’d been victorious over the enemy the night before. Through a miracle of the Creator we defeated Satan and his demon army. At the brink of certain defeat, I’d personally borne witness to the mighty hand of God through His supernatural power and a legion of conquering warrior angels. And it wasn’t as if that was only the battle won. I had assurance of my family’s ongoing protection against evil.
So why wasn’t I standing tall in the triumph I’d witnessed with my own eyes? Why instead did I look—and feel—so beat down? A celebration was in order, yet instead, I fought the desire to cower in a darkened corner.
Am I broken?
In disgust or weakness—I wasn’t sure which—I turned away from the damaged image and woodenly trekked down the halls to the far recesses of the training center. In a short time the building would fill with hunters, and I wasn’t in the mood to be disturbed. I headed to one of the gyms tucked in the corners of the center. No one would stumble across me there. Musty air greeted me when I pushed open the doors to an abandoned gym.
“Solitude isn’t a bad thing as long as it’s being used for the right reasons.”
I yelled and tripped over my feet. I laid a hand on my beating heart as if the pressure alone could slow down its speed.
“Hugo, where did you come from? This gym was empty.”
His fluffy hair waved back and forth with the movement of his shaking head. “No, I was always here. You’re still learning to recognize my presence.” He gestured to the middle of the padded floor. “Come, let’s talk. We’ve much to discuss.”
I nodded in agreement and settled myself across from him. He sat with his legs crossed and waited patiently for
me.
“I don’t even know where to start,” I confessed.
“How about if we talk about what you are doing here? You want to be alone right now. Why?”
I had a strong sense Hugo understood why even better than I did myself, but I searched for the reasons behind my actions.
“When things get overwhelming, I tend to pull away from people.”
He nodded his agreement. “Why do you think that is?”
Pulling on a strand of my hair, I looked at the floor. “I just don’t feel like putting on a front for people, I suppose.”
“Why would you feel you need to do that?”
I shrugged again. He slowly forced me to verbalize what I had never really wanted to think too deeply about before. “I don’t know. I guess it feels like people expect me to act a certain way, and sometimes I just don’t want to feel like I’m trying to be someone I’m not.”
“Who do you think people expect you to be?”
“Someone . . . more.”
“More?” It was an invitation to continue rather than an inquiry.
“Someone more put together. Someone stronger. Sometimes I feel so fragile, and I guess I don’t want anyone to see that part of me. I certainly don’t like feeling breakable.”
Hugo nodded as if he understood perfectly the imperfect explanation I’d just given him. “Audrey, I don’t want you to feel that way.”
“Neither do I,” I admitted, my voice small. I watched my finger draw patterns on the dark blue padding beneath me.
“You weren’t created to be alone. Seeking solitude isn’t always a bad thing. In the stillness you can find intimacy with your Creator. But it is downright destructive when you pull away simply to hide yourself.”
Shame slammed into me hard, because that was exactly what I’d repeatedly done.
Hugo’s unexpectedly sharp tone cut into my thoughts. “Stop it.” He slapped a hand on the floor between us. “What you are doing to yourself right now, I want you to stop.”
“What?” My gaze snapped up and connected with Hugo’s. A fire burned behind his denim-washed irises.
