“He still sells to me sometimes.” She looked down and started washing her feet. The bruises on her back and legs almost made me gag. I knew they were from my deadbeat father. And the fact that I wasn’t there to step in between the two of them made me feel as if I were just as bad a person as he was.
“Do you think I’m pretty?” she whispered. Tears were running down her cheeks, but I didn’t even think she knew she was crying.
“You’re beautiful, Ma.”
“Your father called me an ugly bitch.”
My hands formed fists, and I took a few deep breaths. “Screw him. You’re better off without him.”
“Yeah. Definitely. Definitely.” She nodded rapidly again. “I just wished he loved me, is all.”
Why did we as humans always want love from the people who were incapable of such a feeling?
“Can you shampoo my hair?” She asked.
I agreed. I lightly touched the bruises against her skin, and she didn’t seem to react at all. For a while we sat and listened to the sound of the water. I wasn’t sure how to communicate with her. I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to, but the silence was too much to bare after some time. “I was going to run to the grocery store for you tomorrow, Ma. You want to get me your food card?”
She closed her eyes and clapped her hands together. “Shoot! Oh shit. I must’ve left it at my friend’s apartment the other night. She lives right down the street from me. I can go get it,” she said, trying to stand up, but I stopped her.
“You still have soap in your hair. Wash it out, towel off, and meet me in the living room. We’ll figure out the food another day.”
I stood up and left. When I hit the living room, my eyes fell to the baggie of cocaine on the table. “Fuck…” I whispered, snapping my band.
Focus. This isn’t your life. This isn’t your story.
Dr. Khan said after I left rehab, moments would come up when I’d find myself seconds from stepping back on the hamster wheel of my past, but then he’d say that it wasn’t my story anymore.
My hands were sweaty, and I took a seat on the couch. I didn’t know when it happened, but somehow the baggie of cocaine was in my hands. I closed my eyes, taking in a few deep breaths. My chest was on fire, my mind wild. Being back in town was too much for me, but leaving Kellan wasn’t an option.
How was I going to survive?
“Look, we are going to be late—” Erika came barging into the apartment and paused, seeing me with the cocaine in my grip. I quickly glanced back and forth to the cocaine and Erika. She sighed. “Figures.”
She turned on her heels and hurried out of the room. Shit. With haste, I followed her, calling her name, but she ignored me the whole way to the car. Once we were inside, she revved up the engine and pulled away from the curb. A few minutes passed with no words exchanged.
“Listen, what you saw up there,” I started, but she shook her head.
“Don’t talk.”
“Erika, it’s not what you think.”
“I can’t do this, Logan. I can’t. I can’t be the one driving you around to go on these joy rides. I can’t watch you disappoint your brother.”
“I’m not using.”
“You’re lying.”
Tossing my hands up in defeat, I released a weighted sigh. “I don’t even know how to remotely talk to you.”
“Then don’t.”
“Fine. I won’t.”
Erika’s fingers were gripped tightly around the steering wheel and I watched as her air freshener swung back and forth on her rear-view mirror.
“He’s sick, and he’s trying to not show his worry about you or your mom, but he’s terrified. I think we need to face reality, and the reality is I just saw you with drugs in your hand. The last thing Kellan needs is for you to stress him out more.”
“What goes on in your head? You make up all of these crazy stories and judge people for things that never happened. You are a lot like your messed up mother, you know that?”
She pulled up to the restaurant and put the car into park. With one harsh tone she turned to me and said, “And you are a carbon copy of yours.”
24
Logan
“I am nothing like my mom!” I whisper-hissed, chasing Erika into Jacob’s restaurant.
“I saw you!” she whisper-hissed back, poking me hard in my chest. “I saw you, Logan!”
“You think you saw something but you didn’t. I wasn’t going to.”
“Don’t lie to me, you jerk! How could you?! You promised! You promised!”
Before I could reply, Kellan walked over.
“What took you guys so long?” he asked. Erika had her frown glued to her face, but forced it to change directions when she saw the worry in her fiancé’s eyes.
“I just had to make a stop on the way,” she said, kissing his cheek. “But we are here! And I can’t wait to watch you perform!”
Kellan’s stare moved over to me, and his worrisome eyes remained. I slightly shrugged my shoulders, unable to ever truly lie to my brother.
His brows lowered with understanding. He nodded toward the front door. “You want to go get some air with me, Lo? My set doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes.”
“Yeah, for sure,” I replied. My hands were stuffed into my jeans pockets, still in fists from the way Erika spoke to me in the car minutes before. I couldn’t even truly be mad at her about it, though. The person I was when I left town years ago, was the only person she ever knew me to be. In her eyes, I was the drug addicted asshole who screwed up their lives and broke her sister’s heart when I never called back. In her eyes, I was the jerk who almost killed Kellan and Alyssa the night I was messed up and took the wheel into my hand. I was the person who was responsible for Alyssa losing our child. In Erika’s eyes, I was Alyssa’s and Kellan’s baggage that they both deserved to unload.
In her eyes, I was the me that I’d tried so hard to never become again.
Kellan and I stepped outside, and the chill of the fall night hit our faces quickly. He leaned against the brick wall of the bar, with his left foot resting against the stones and his eyes closed, as his head tilted toward the sky. I reached into my pocket for a cigarette, and paused.
Shit.
No smoking.
I leaned against the wall beside him. “How are you holding up?” I asked, pulling out my lighter and flicking it on and off.
“Honestly?”
“Yeah.”
He opened his eyes, and I saw his fight to hold the tears back. “I was practicing the guitar, and my hand started to tremble. The other day it happened too, and my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I think it’s all in my head, because I’m afraid of the chemotherapy. I’ve read a lot online about chemo brain. That’s where a person kind of loses some cognitive functions. So I might not even be able to play the guitar anymore. Or write lyrics. I mean…” He bit his bottom lip and inhaled deeply. My tough, always strong brother was slowly cracking. And I couldn’t do anything about it. “I mean…music…that’s me. That’s my life. I spent so much time running away from it though, and now if I can’t play the guitar…”
“I’ll play for you,” I said, and meant it.
He snickered. “You don’t have a musical bone in your whole freaking body, Logan.”
“I can learn. And hell, remember when you learned to cook after my dad broke my hand?”
“When I made the turkey for Thanksgiving that one year?”
I chuckled. “And you yelled, ‘Who knew a damn turkey needed to be thawed for more than four hours?!’ as you tried to cut into it.”
“But seriously! Who knew that?”
“Um, everyone with a brain? I mean, to give you credit, I’d never seen a turkey that was completely burnt on the outside and completely raw inside. That takes talent. What did Ma say about it?” I asked, remembering the few good memories we’d shared.
We spoke in unison, “What type of fuckery is this?! If you wanted to kill me, you could’ve used a bu
tcher’s knife. It would’ve been less painful than this damn turkey.”
Kellan and I both laughed this time. It wasn’t even that funny, but we were cracking up, laughing together so hard that our ribs started to ache. Tears of memories running down my face.
When we stopped, a cold silence filled the space, but at least this silence wasn’t lonely, because my brother was with me.
“How was she today?” Kellan asked about Ma.
“Not your concern, Kel. Seriously. I’m back, so I’ll handle her. You have a lot of shit on your plate. It’s my turn to help.”
He tilted his head in my direction. “Yeah, but what about you? How are you holding up?”
I sighed.
I couldn’t tell him how close I was to using.
I couldn’t tell him how heartbroken I was to see Ma in the shape she was.
I couldn’t fall apart when he needed me the most.
I had to be strong for him, because his whole life was spent being the person who saved me. I wasn’t a hero, I wasn’t a savior, but I was his brother—and I truly hoped that would be enough.
“I’m good, Kellan,” I said. He didn’t believe me. “I am, I promise.” He knew it was a lie, but he didn’t call me out on it.
“I’m really worried about Ma. And I’m not sure how to help her…And if I’m gone…” He paused his words as his inner demons and fears accidentally slipped from between his lips.
Pushing myself off of the wall, I stood in front of him. “No. No. You don’t get to say that kind of shit, okay? Look, you’re here. You’re getting the chemotherapy. It’s going to work. Okay?”
His doubt was seen fully in his stare.
I lightly shoved him in his shoulder. “You’re not dying, Kellan. Okay?”
His jaw trembled, and he slightly nodded. “Okay.”
“No, say it like you mean it. You’re not dying!” I said, heightening my voice.
“I’m not dying.”
“Again!”
“I’m not dying!” he spoke into the cool air.
“Again!”
“I’m not fucking dying!” He shouted it the last time, his arms reaching out in victory, a smile upon his lips.
I pulled him into a tight hug and held him close. I hid the tears that started to fall from my face, and nodded my head slightly, whispering. “You’re not dying.”
We headed back inside of the restaurant, and I watched him perform, his hands shakier than I wanted to admit, but his music was so much better than I’d ever heard. Erika stared up at him as if she was looking at forever in one guy’s soul. She loved him. Which was enough reason for me to love her. Even if she hated my guts, such a big part of me loved her, for loving him to her core.
“I have to get back to finish grading my papers,” Erika said after Kellan finished his set. We all stood at the bar with drinks in our hands, laughing with Jacob, and forgetting for a while about the reality of our days to come.
“I’ll head out with you,” Kellan told her. He reached into his pocket and tossed me his car keys. “You can drive my car back, Logan.” Those words might not have meant much to anyone else, but it meant he trusted me.
He’d always trusted me—even when I wasn’t trustworthy.
“I’ll meet you out at your car, Erika. I’m just going to grab my guitar.” She nodded and left. The moment she walked away, Kellan leaned in toward Jacob, with the sincerest look in his eyes. “Hey man, I just wanted to let you know. If something happened to me,”—he paused, turned my way and smirked—“which it won’t, because I’m not dying. But if something did happen, I would be okay with you looking after Erika, ya know? I would be fine with that.”
Jacob leaned forward, resting both of his elbows on the countertop. “And this is the moment I tell you to piss off for even thinking something like that.”
Kellan chuckled. “No, but really. You’ll take care of her?”
“We aren’t talking about this,” Jacob replied.
“Yeah, Kel. Stop being dramatic,” I agreed.
“Dude. I have cancer.”
“Don’t you fucking play the cancer card on me,” Jacob snickered, throwing a rag at him. “I don’t give a shit,” he said jokingly.
“But, promise me you’ll take care of her?” he asked, one last time.
Jacob sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Even though NOTHING is going to happen to you, if it will make you sleep better at night, Erika will be taken care of. I promise.”
Kellan looked visibly lighter, his shoulders relaxing, and nodded before heading out to join his fiancée.
As I tossed on my coat to leave, I called Jacob over to me. Leaning in close to him, I gripped his white T-shirt and locked eyes with him. “If I ever see you looking any kind of way at Erika, I swear to God I will rip your balls off and feed them to you.”
He snorted laughing, until he saw the stern look on my face. “Dude. Erika’s like a sister to me. That’s disgusting. Now, that Alyssa girl on the other hand...” He smirked and wiggled his eyebrows.
“You’re a terrible person,” I said dryly.
He laughed. “I’m kidding! Come on. That’s funny. Trust me, the Walters girls are off limits.”
“Good. I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page.”
“We are. Besides, Kellan’s not dying.”
I nodded in agreement.
Because Kellan wasn’t dying.
25
Logan
I stuffed my hands into my pockets and rocked back and forth on Alyssa’s porch. I didn’t know how I found myself standing there. I wasn’t sure if she would even keep the door open once she noticed it was me.
But I had nowhere else to go. No one to turn to.
She opened the door, and my eyes danced across her body as she stood in a white tank top and tight blue jeans. When I met her eyes, I almost burst into tears because just being near her reminded me of what it felt like not to be alone.
Her arms crossed and she cocked a brow. “What do you want, Logan? Are you still looking to yell at me? To make me feel like crap? Because it’s almost one in the morning and I really don’t want to hear it.” The strong stance she held almost made me laugh, but when I opened my mouth to release a chuckle, I choked on the air.
I saw her eyes soften. She stepped out onto the porch.
“What is it?” she asked, alert, the concern that was always in her words loud and clear.
My head shook back and forth. My stomach knotted. “He’s…” I cleared my throat. I stuffed my hands deeper into my pockets. My stare fell down to the worn boards of her porch. “He’s…”
“Lo. Talk to me.” She placed a comforting hand against my chest, over my heart. And without thought, my heart began to speed up from her touch. “What’s wrong?”
I opened my mouth, but choked on air. My body started to shake as I forced the words to leave my tongue. “When I was eleven, my dad made me sit in the pouring rain because I looked at him wrong. I was out there for over four hours, sitting on top of a milk carton, and he’d watch me from his window, making sure I wouldn’t move. And um… Kellan came over to drop off some things. He was only fifteen, but he knew Ma was going through one of her low points, so each day he’d stop by to check in on me. Bring me food. Clothes that he outgrew. When he came around the block and saw me sitting there, soaking wet, I saw his face turn red and his right hand formed a fist.
“I told him it was okay, but he ignored me. He pulled me up to the apartment and started shouting at my dad, calling him a deadbeat this and a deadbeat that. Which is crazy, right, because you know my dad. People don’t talk back to him; people don’t even look him in the eye. But Kellan did. He puffed out his chest, stared the son-of-a-bitch straight in the eye, and told him if he ever laid a hand on me, or made me do some crazy shit again, like stand in the rain, that he’d kill him. He didn’t mean it, ya know. Kellan wouldn’t hurt a fly. But he stood up to my biggest fear. He fought for me when I couldn’t. And my dad hit h
im.” I blew out a low breath, remembering. “He hit him hard, too. But Kellan stood up. Over and over again, he stood up. For me. He stood up for me. He’s always looked after me, ya know? He’s my big brother. He’s my…”
My head shook back and forth. My stomach knotted, pained. “He’s…” I cleared my throat and stuffed my hands deeper into my pockets. My stare fell down to my tattered shoestrings. “He’s… He’s dying.” I nodded my head, realizing that once those words left my lips, they became real. My brother, my hero, my world, was dying. “Kellan’s sick. He’s dying, High. He’s dying.” I shook uncontrollably, trying to fight the burning tears sitting in the back of my eyes. I wanted to shut up, I wanted to stop talking, but I couldn’t stop repeating the scariest words in the world. “He’s dying. He’s dying. Kellan’s dying.”
“Oh, Logan…”
“How long did you know? How long did you know he was sick? Why didn’t you call me? Why didn’t… He’s dying…” I sobbed. Jesus, I was a mess. I was seconds away from slipping away. But then she reached out to me. She held me. Her arms wrapped around me and she didn’t speak. She just held on tight as I lost myself on her front porch that summer night.
For a moment we were us again. For a moment she was the fire that kept my cold heart warm at night. For a moment she was my savior. My safe haven. My bright, beautiful High.
But after the highs, always came the lows.
“What’s going on?” a deep voice asked from behind Alyssa, coming out of the house. I looked up as he spoke again. “Who’s this?”
He stood wearing a button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, slacks, and expensive-looking shoes. He stepped onto the porch as I stepped away from Alyssa, confused.
“Dan this is Logan, my…” She hesitated, because she didn’t know what we were, with good reason. The truth was we weren’t anything. We were the fleeting memories of something that once was. Nothing more, nothing less. “He’s an old friend.”
The Elements Series Complete Box Set Page 42
