Reflect Me

by K. B. Webb

  “That’s because you wouldn’t have helped me take care of the damn dog. Logan helps me.” I instantly regretted bringing up Logan when the tip of Brian’s shoe met my chin. I spit blood on the floor and tried to act like I wasn’t terrified. Brian thrived off other people’s weaknesses; I couldn’t let him see mine.

  “So, you and Logan? I knew he would try to take you away from me. He always did like taking my things when we were kids.” I didn’t answer him. There was no point.

  “Why do you have a gun?”

  He laughed a sadistic laugh and pointed the gun at me.

  “Well, Molls, I plan to kill you. That’s why I have a gun. God, you’re a fucking idiot, aren’t you? Did you really think I would let you leave me? Did you really think I would let Logan-fucking-Wade take away my woman and my kid? No! Of course I won’t! You’re mine, you dumb little bitch! Mine!” I started to cry even though I knew crying would give him exactly what he wanted. Usually, I would have taken Brian’s threats with a grain of salt, but he wasn’t his normal self. He was strung out and more irrational than he usually was. He was going to fucking kill me, and I couldn’t do a damn thing.

  “You know, Molly, we really had a good thing going till you had to ruin it by getting all fucking emotional.” He was pacing the room and waving the gun around as he talked. I could see the safety wasn’t on. “I was perfectly happy with the way things were. But no! Princess Molly wasn’t happy, so she had to throw a fucking temper tantrum about it! I lost everything because of you, you dumb bitch! I lost my car. I lost my friends. I lost the only roof I had over my head. All because of you!” His face was red with anger and the veins in his neck were bulging out.

  “What about your daughter, huh? Did you ever give a shit that you lost her?” I was going to die, I understood that. But I wasn’t going to cower to him anymore.

  “Man, fuck that kid! I told you to have the damn abortion but you couldn’t do it! I never wanted her. You knew that but you had her anyway! Fuck you and that stupid fucking kid of yours. I never loved either of you.” He acted like those things were supposed to hurt me. I knew he didn’t love us. I had come to terms with that long ago, so those words didn’t affect me at all. “And you know what, Logan doesn’t love y’all either. I know you think he does. I’ve seen how he acts with you and Lyric, like y’all are some big happy family. But that’s fucking bullshit. He doesn’t want you or that baby! You should have stayed with me, Molly. I told you no one would ever want you besides me!”

  He was leaning down in my face yelling, so I did the only thing I could think to do. I spit right in his eyes. “Fuck you, Brian! Logan does love me and he does love Lyric more than you ever could have! We deserve better than you.”

  He wiped the spit from his face and grabbed my hair, pulling me until I was standing up. I had my boots on so we were close to the same height. “You know, I was just going to shoot you and get it over with, but I think I’d like to kick your ass for old time’s sake. What do you say?” He placed the gun down on the bench behind him and slapped me as hard as he could across the face. I stumbled but didn’t fall. If Brian wanted a fight, he was about to get one.

  I swung and hit him with everything I had square in the nose. Blood started pouring from it. He slammed my head into the lockers and punched me in the stomach with so much force I lost my breath.

  I hit him again on the jaw then kicked him in the ribs. He stumbled into the bench and tripped over it onto the floor. I saw the gun sitting there and realized this was my only chance to regain control. He glanced at the gun too. As I dove for the gun, he dove for me. We wrestled around each trying to gain control over the gun and the situation. I heard truck doors slam and I knew that Logan was here; all I had to do was fight for a few more moments and he would save me. I thought I heard someone kick down the back door, but it was hard to keep focusing on the sounds when my head was pounding and I was wrestling with Brian.

  All of a sudden, I heard a loud pop that made my ears ring and Brian rolled off me. He had blood coming from his mouth and a hole in his chest. He just kept gurgling. It sounded like he was choking on his own blood. I didn’t try to help him. I just sat and watched as he died in front of me, holding the gun that killed him in my hand.

  I didn’t notice Logan, Ryan, and Justin running in the room. I didn’t realize I was screaming. I just kept staring into Brian’s eyes as the life drained out of them.

  It was over. Brian was dead. And I had killed him.

  I woke up later in a hospital bed. I had to have stiches on the back of my head and my mouth and my ribs were bruised. But I was alive.

  That’s what the detective kept reminding me over the few days that followed Brian’s death. I did countless interviews, gave multiple statements, and had photos taken of every bump, scratch, and bruise on my body.

  Logan said Brian’s mother flew in from Florida to identify his body. She had him cremated and flew back within a day of arriving. She didn’t attempt to see Lyric. She never saw her son when he was living, so that didn’t surprise me.

  I stayed in the hospital for three days and had visits from everyone I loved. Wynee, Justin, Ryan, Becky, Geo, Lucas, Dolly, and Dani all came to visit almost every day. Logan was there every day; he never left my side.

  I could hear him cry at night when he thought I was asleep. He would apologize over and over, even though I told him every chance I got that none of this was his fault. He disagreed of course. He said that he should have never left me alone. He should have changed the locks right after Brian moved out. He should have made me come and lock the door, or just made me leave early with him. There were tons of should haves in this situation that could have changed the outcome, but those should haves weren’t changing anything now.

  Brian was dead because I killed him. That was the outcome. I had killed my daughter’s father, and one day, I would have to explain that to her.

  The detective told me it was self-defense. They didn’t intend to charge me with anything. They actually told me that they found duct-tape, plastic sheets, and a machete in the trunk of the car Brian was driving. He had meant what he had said; he was going to kill me.

  Brian had been staying in some cheap hotel with Tiffany. When they located Tiffany, she was fine. Still pregnant, and had no idea what Brian was planning for me. The detectives seemed to think he was planning to kill her after he killed me. Tiffany had apparently moved out of state, into to her mother’s house as soon as she found out about Brian’s death.

  There was no funeral for Brian, not that anyone would have gone. I still hated him so much, but for different reasons than when I did when he was alive. I hated him for what he had made me do. I didn’t want to hurt Brian. I sure as hell didn’t want to kill him, but I had. And now, I was having to deal with the consequences of his actions, like I always did.

  I would watch Logan every day. I could see the life draining out of him. His eyes had lost the light; the happiness that I loved so much. Now they were empty and dark. He wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t sleep. He was miserable, and it was all my fault. My actions caused another man I loved to feel pain.

  I loved Logan, and more than anything, I wanted to be with him, but I refused to drag him down any more than he already was. He deserved better. He deserved a stable girl with a happy past, not a messed up bitch like me. I had decided that I had to end it, even though I knew I would never love another person like I loved Logan.

  I was sitting in my bed resting like the doctor had ordered when Logan walked in. He looked like he had over the last few days, empty. I couldn’t let him live like this anymore.

  I sat up slowly, trying not to wince at the pain shooting through my side, and patted the spot on the bed next to me.

  “Logan, we need to talk.” He nodded, but didn’t speak.

  “Logan, I love you. God, I love you so damn much. But, I … fuck … I don’t know how to say this, I can’t keep watching you hurt because of me. I can’t keep allowing you to self-destruct becau
se of my actions.” I was crying and when I looked up at Logan, he was too.

  “Please, Cookie, don’t do this. You’re trying to push me away. I knew you would try to do this, but don’t. I love you. I promised you I wasn’t going anywhere and I meant it.” He was going to make this so much harder than I was ready for. I didn’t expect him to just agree and walk away from me, but I guess I never realized he loved me enough to fight for me.

  Part of me knew my thinking was irrational. That Logan should have been the one to make the choice of if he wanted to stay with me, but I couldn’t allow him to make that choice. I thought about Colt. About him choosing to stay with me instead of going to LSU, I let him make that choice, and it ruined the rest of his life. That decision took Colt’s life. I took Colt’s life because I was selfish. I wouldn’t make that mistake again.

  “Logan, I need you to leave. Please.”

  “No, Cookie, I’m not going anywhere, damn it!”

  “Logan! We’re over. Get the fuck out. Now!”

  Something in him snapped. He didn’t seem sad anymore, he just seemed angry. He grabbed a duffle bag he had from my closet and started throwing clothes in while I sat on my bed, watching him and crying. God, I didn’t want this at all. But, Logan deserved happiness. Logan deserved better than what I could give him. He may have thought that I was being a coward and running away from the situation, but I was trying to be as selfless as possible for once in my life.

  He grabbed the door handle, ready to leave, but turned around at the last second and stared at me. “You know what, Molly, you can’t keep pushing people away just because you think you know what’s best for them, because you fucking don’t! I know you don’t want me to leave. I know you don’t want this to be over. But, God damn it, Molly, I refuse to watch you just give up on us while I would fight till the day I die for you. Obviously, you don’t love me the way I thought you did. You want to be done, Molly, fine. We’re done. But just know, I will never love anyone else like I love you. I will never want someone like I want you and I will be miserable for the rest of my God damn life because you think you know what’s best for me. I hope that makes you feel better.”

  I was crying so hard I couldn’t breathe and I couldn’t see. I heard Logan slam my bedroom door then heard him yelling from the front of house, I assumed at Ryan. I could hear his truck outside and heard him pull out of the driveway.

  He was gone. And he was gone because I made him leave.

  I heard Ryan walk in my room and he crawled on my bed and laid down next to me. He wrapped his arms around me while I cried over and over.

  “God, Birdie, you fucked up big time.” I know, and there was no going back now.

  It had been exactly three weeks since my whole word crashed around me. Twenty-one days of pure hell. I knew Molly was going to pull some shit and try to push me away. I should have fought harder for her, but I just couldn’t. I knew she was going through some fucked up things. Seeing her sitting next to Brian’s body was one of the most terrifying moments of my life. She was still holding the gun and she just kept screaming while her body shook. The doctor said she was in shock, which was fucking obvious. Seeing the father of your child die, and knowing that you were holding the gun when it killed him, had to be one of the most fucked-up scenarios imaginable.

  Every time she slept in the hospital, I cried. I cried like a little fucking bitch because I had failed her. I was supposed to protect her, and I didn’t. Maybe that’s why I didn’t fight. She thought she was doing me a favor by letting me go, but maybe I was doing her one by walking away. I would never be able to forgive myself for leaving her alone in Ricky’s that night.

  Ryan called me every few days and Justin came by at least twice a week, so did Wynee. They all told me that there was nothing I could have done differently. Molly was a naturally self-destructive person, and I knew they were right. Ryan said he heard her cry every night and that she was having nightmares. She would scream in her sleep, and when he would wake her up, she would tell him that she saw Brian. That he wasn’t really dead and he was coming back for her. I should have been the one who was there to help her through her nightmares. But, I ran away like a scared fucking kid.

  Lucas had tried to get me to go to Ricky’s a few times. Geo had given Molly as much time off as she decided she needed, but Wynee said she may never go back. I didn’t blame her. When she was there, all she could think of was the night Brian died, and when I was there, all I could think of was her and how I lost her forever.

  I took a few days off from work after Molly and I broke up, but I had to go back. I went back to living life the way I did before I met her. I worked all day and stayed in bed most weekends. I wasn’t normally the type to mope and feel sorry for myself, but I didn’t know what else to do.

  I would replay “Stick Around” by Reckless Kelly constantly. The song Molly and I had danced to the night of our first date. Sometimes, I would cry. Sometimes, I would scream. Sometimes, I punched holes in my walls. I was on a swift downward spiral and there was no coming back from it. The one person who could save me thought she was doing me a favor by letting me go.

  My phone rang one night and I saw Brett’s name on the screen. Brett was a construction buddy I had in New Orleans. One of the few guys I was still close with there.

  “What’s up, man?” I tried to act as if I was fine.

  “I don’t know, man. You tell me. You want to explain to me why your brother just called me telling me he was worried about you? What the fuck’s going on?”

  “It’s nothing, man. Lucas just worries too damn much. Just going through a rough patch. Molly and I broke up.”

  “I know, Lucas told me. And from what he said, this is more than a rough patch. You went through a rough patch after Lizzy. He’s worried you’re never going to pull yourself out of this.”

  “I’m fine, man. I swear. Just got a lot of shit on my mind.”

  “Well lucky for you, I live in a town where there are plenty of things and people to do, that will clear that shit right up.”

  “What are you saying, Brett?”

  “What I’m saying is come to New Orleans. Hang out with me. Get the fuck out of town for a while. You need to clear your head and you aren’t going to do it there.”

  I mulled over the idea. Part of me wanted to stay in this bed and just fucking rot, but I knew Brett was right. I couldn’t live like this forever. I could never get over Molly, but I couldn’t mope around anymore. It was obvious there were people around me who were worried about me, and I didn’t want that.

  I finally agreed I would come that weekend. He asked how long I would stay and I just said I didn’t know, which was true. I thought about staying there forever. Never coming back here again. I was obviously good at running away from terrible situations.

  I called my boss and asked for some time off. I knew there was a chance he would fire me on the spot, but I honestly didn’t give a shit anymore. Lucky for me, my boss was an understanding guy. He knew the situation I was in. He gave me a few weeks off but said he couldn’t hold my job for longer than that. A few weeks would give me time to get my head on straight before I decided what I wanted to do next.

  I packed all my clothes and the few personal belongings I had in my room. I had mainly just brought clothes with me when I moved in with Lucas. I should have called Lucas, told him where I was going, but I was too chicken shit. Big surprise. Instead, I wrote him a note and left it on the counter like some little kid running away from home.

  I put all my stuff in Old Blue, filled her up with gas, and headed south. I didn’t know what was going to happen next, but I knew no matter where I was, I would be missing Molly.

  I had been in New Orleans for a week when Lucas showed up at Brett’s apartment. I wasn’t sure what he expected to find. I wasn’t fucked up by any means, I was just trying to get away to clear my head. He seemed relieved when he saw me still in one piece and almost happy. I damn sure wasn’t happy, but I was trying. Brett spent
a lot of time making sure we were always busy doing something. I didn’t have much down time to sit around and think.

  Lucas said he had gotten a hotel on the French Quarter and had plans to stay through the weekend. I decided to take him out to lunch and asked Brett to stay behind. There was a lot of stuff he and I needed to talk about.

  We went to a local burger place and sat outside at Lucas’ request.

  “So are you going to come home?” Lucas wasted no time diving into heavy conversation.

  “I don’t know, man. I don’t think I can face her.”

  “She went back to work, ya know? As soon as she found out you left town. I think she was scared of running into you more than anything.” I nodded at him.

  “How is she?”

  “Okay, I guess. She misses you a lot. We all do. She started seeing a counselor, which is great, and I think it will help her a lot in the long run.”

  He must have seen the look on my face that talking about Molly brought because he quickly changed the conversation to anything but her. We talked about mom and his job. About Wynee and Justin. He talked a lot about Dani and how things were going between them, but he never brought up Molly or Lyric again.

  We were almost done with lunch when I noticed Lucas’ eyes fixed on something behind me.

  Right behind me was Molly, with a guitar strapped around her chest. She looked so damn beautiful. The sun was making her hair seem red. I noticed Wynee standing off to the side holding Lyric and Justin and Ryan standing beside her.

  I stood and walked to her. “What are you doing here, Molly?” I was so damn confused.

  “Just hear me out, okay? Really hear me.”

  She started strumming on the guitar she had. I recognized the song as the acoustic version of “Mirrors” by Justin Timberlake. She sang every word with so much pain and passion. I knew she had played guitar years before, but I had no idea she was as good as she sounded. She sang about not wanting to lose someone, the other half of her. A crowd formed around her but she didn’t notice. Her eyes were trained on me the whole time. I noticed she had tears running down her face but she never quit singing.