Some Kind of Hell

by London Casey

  The dagger in my heart only twisted harder because, again, the song sounded amazing. Tripp and Tatum had saved the show that night… and had quite honestly saved DownCrash’s reputation.

  All without Logan.

  The world moved on without Logan there.

  But what about me? I sure as hell couldn’t imagine not having Logan in my life.

  23

  I had nothing to say when the show ended. I went backstage only because I didn’t want to have to battle through the crowd out front and then walk around the building outside to get to my car.

  When I saw Maggie talking to Tatum, rubbing his sweaty arms, telling him how good he was, something came to me.

  What Maggie had said right before the show started…

  “I’m sorry…”

  What had she been apologizing for?

  I wanted to believe she had been apologizing for what happened at the apartment. We both got snippy with each other. But watching her with Tatum made me wonder if she wasn’t apologizing for Logan. For Logan not being there. For the future of DownCrash and what would happen with Logan and the band. What would happen with me and Logan… and the band…

  Maggie saw me and stood there, next to Tatum.

  I felt like the third wheel enough that it made me choke up.

  Everyone stared at me like I was some kind of disease.

  “That was a good show,” I managed to say.

  “We got lucky,” Tripp said. “Really fucking lucky.”

  “We did good,” Tatum said. “Considering…”

  “Yeah, considering,” Tripp said. “I’m considering a lot right now.”

  “Tripp,” Scarlett growled at him. “Don’t.”

  “No, I will,” Tripp said.

  The tension seemed to reach a climax and when my phone vibrated, I hurried for it. I feared something terrible was going to happen. But when I saw a text message from Logan I realized that maybe something terrible had already happened.

  “It’s from Logan,” I said as I read the text.

  “What’s it say?” Maggie asked.

  I read the message and gasped. I covered my mouth and read it again.

  At the garage. I took care of it all. I really did.

  I read the message out loud to everyone and Tripp was the first one to take action. The look in his eyes terrified me. And because it was Tripp who stormed out of the room first made it even worse. It meant Tripp thought Logan was going to hurt himself or possibly already had.

  We all left in a hurry, avoiding as many people as we could. We ignored the people who worked at the club and we ignored the random people and fans outside yelling for Tripp, Tatum, and DownCrash. They must have looked like assholes ignoring their fans but there was potentially something worse waiting for all of us.

  I followed right behind Tripp, matching his speed and wicked turns. The faster he drove, the worse I felt. I didn’t want to imagine finding Logan hurt (or worse…) but my mind kept messing with me.

  What the hell did that text message mean?

  I thought about the night before. How Logan and I were together. Holding each other, having sex, feeling somewhat normal. What had changed? What made him wake up and leave? Why didn’t he wake me? Why didn’t I hear or feel him leave the bed?

  By the time we pulled into the gravel driveway, I was an emotional wreck.

  The lights were on in the garage but that didn’t give me hope for a second.

  I ran from the car, trying to keep up with Tripp and Tatum.

  At the door, Tatum let Tripp go forward and then put his arms out, stopping Maggie, Scarlett, and myself. I fought but Tatum refused.

  Just in case.

  Those were his words.

  Just in case.

  I broke down in tears as Tripp opened the door.

  “What the fuck?” he screamed and that was all I could take.

  I slammed into Tatum, using my fist at his gut. He didn’t expect the move and it jarred him enough that I was able to get by him and into the garage.

  I took two steps and froze, putting my hands to my mouth because I was certain I was going to lose it all. My stomach. My mind. My life.

  Logan sat on the table near the wall with his feet dangling. His hands were gripped at the edge of the table, his right hand bleeding profusely. The blood dripped like a leaky faucet and he didn’t care.

  In front of him, scattered on the floor were pieces of… everything.

  “Logan, what did you do?” I asked.

  He turned he head and smiled. It was the sickest smile I’d ever seen in my life.

  “I took care of everything,” he said.

  And in his mind, he did.

  His bass was cracked in half, the neck one way, the body another way. The only reason the two pieces were still somewhat connected was because of the thick strings on the instrument. His bass amp had a huge hole in the front of it but that didn’t compare to the fact that the box was crushed and the speaker torn out of the back and thrown across the room.

  The mic stands were on the floor. Two of Tatum’s cymbals stands were on the floor, the cymbals angled, reflecting a golden light back to my eyes. Guitars were face down, amps knocked over, and scattered across the floor were shards of wood from what used to be an acoustic guitar.

  The worst of it all though was that the DownCrash banner that hung behind the drums was ripped at the left corner, leaving it dangling.

  I saw that and gasped for air.

  It screamed to me something I didn’t want to face ever.

  DownCrash was done.

  Gone.

  Bye-bye.

  “Logan,” I said.

  “What the fuck is this?” a voice boomed.

  It was Tatum.

  He touched my shoulders and moved me. He surveyed the damage and looked at Logan, ready to kill him. Tripp walked to the fridge and opened the freezer, pulling out a bottle of vodka.

  “Well, if we’re all going down to hell tonight,” he said as he twisted the lid off.

  “Tripp, don’t,” Scarlett said.

  Tripp didn’t listen.

  He threw the lid in the general direction of Logan and then drank.

  And drank.

  And drank.

  He drank vodka straight like I’d drink water.

  I don’t know how he did it.

  Tatum was in fists as he walked to his cymbals.

  “You fucked with my shit?” he asked.

  “Got in the way, man,” Logan said.

  “So this is your message? This is what you want out of this?”

  “I took care of things.”

  “You’re an asshole,” Tatum said.

  I stepped forward, unsure what I was going to do.

  “Okay then,” Logan said.

  He pushed off the table and stood, staring straight at Tatum. For each step he took, Tatum took one too. They didn’t stop until their chests touched. Tatum had a couple inches on Logan, but Logan looked freaking nuts. He looked capable of anything.

  “Fight it out,” Tripp cackled as he drank some more. “Or better yet… let’s keep going…”

  He spun and threw the bottle of vodka at the wall. It shattered with a horrible sound. Tripp flipped the table near the fridge and then set his sights on the couch. He moved fast and with aggression.

  Tatum kicked at Logan’s bass. “Can’t play now, can you?”

  “Whoops,” Logan said.

  I called his name and he turned his head. His eyes were so damn distant. He was so lost.

  “Don’t do this,” I said. “For me. For us…”

  I touched my stomach.

  My stomach flipped and started to burn. There was a quick sharp pain but it faded away. My muscles tensed and released.

  “This is so stupid,” Tatum said.

  “Fuck it then,” Logan said.

  He turned and Tatum grabbed his shoulder. I saw Logan make a fist but couldn’t get to him in time. I screamed and Tatum shoved Logan. He spun as
his fist saw nothing but air. He fell forward and landed on the table. Tatum grabbed his shirt and pulled him back, wrapping one of his arms around Logan’s throat. He squeezed but not enough to hurt him.

  “You fucking listen to me,” Tatum growled. “We all suffer. We all feel pain, man. That’s what makes this band work. Smarten up.”

  Tatum pushed Logan. He instantly spun with a fist but stopped himself way too close to Tatum’s face. Tatum didn’t flinch.

  “Do what you have to do,” Tatum said.

  “Fuck that,” Tripp called out. “No bass, no band.”

  “Tripp,” Tatum said. “Cut it.”

  “No. We’re going into the fucking studio, man. I’m not dealing with it.”

  I could see the fire flaring in Logan’s eyes.

  I wanted to jump in too.

  How much did everyone have to put up with Tripp? Tatum? Wasn’t that part of the band? They were like a family, like brothers or something.

  “Logan, come with me,” I said and reached for his arm.

  He turned and took me into his arms. He lifted me and put me down. He backed away and held my face.

  “Annie, what’s left?”

  “Life,” I said. “Life, Logan, life. He’s gone, and I’m sorry about it, but that doesn’t mean you have to be gone too.”

  “Maybe I’m already gone,” he said.

  He pulled me in for a kiss and then left. He left the garage. He started his car and he drove away. I looked at Maggie, then Scarlett, then Tatum, and finally Tripp. Everyone stared at me like they had before.

  My stomach ached for a second and then a sharp pain came again.

  I was going to be sick.

  I clutched my stomach and took a step.

  “I need to go in the house,” I said.

  “Why don’t you chase him down?” Tripp asked.

  “I can’t,” I said. “I can’t…”

  “Let me help you,” Maggie said.

  As she approached me, the look in her eyes was pity. Pure pity. Pity because I was dumb enough to let Jared slip away. I was dumb enough to have an idea that he had to have been cheating but did nothing about it. Dumb enough to fall for Logan and sleep with him, again and again. Dumb enough to get pregnant. Dumb enough… just dumb.

  “No,” I said and pointed at Maggie. “Just leave me the fuck alone.”

  The hate burned in my mind and came as from my mouth. I didn’t want to be dumb or be looked at as dumb. I wanted someone to grab me, hold me, and tell me things were going to be okay. It wasn’t my burden to suffer whatever Logan felt. I tried to help him, and so did his band.

  Wherever he was now, whatever he was doing, that was his problem.

  Not mine.

  “Annie,” Maggie said. “Annie, please don’t get upset.”

  I held my stomach and backed up some more.

  “Well, I guess we’ll get a new bassist,” Tripp said. He had another bottle of vodka in his hand and he stood staring down at the mess Logan created. “We have no choice. We have to get into the studio. We have to record.”

  “Shut up, dude,” Tatum said.

  Tripp looked at Tatum. “Don’t tell me to shut up. Where do you think he’s going right now? You think he’s…”

  Tripp’s eyes met with mine. I mentally pleaded with him to stop. To not continue. To not let his mind slip to a dark place. put the vodka bottle to his lips and took a drink.

  “Okay, everyone just needs a breath,” Tatum said. “We shouldn’t be in this garage right now.”

  “I agree,” Maggie said.

  I looked at Maggie and Tatum.

  Who the hell were they all of a sudden? Mom and Dad?

  “I remember one time seeing someone storm out,” Tripp said.

  “Dude,” Tatum bellowed.

  “Just like Logan,” Tripp said. “Do you know who it was?”

  Tatum punched Tripp’s arm and the bottle fell from his hand. It shattered when it hit the floor. Tripp looked down at it and then at Tatum.

  “Are you scared, Tatum?” he asked.

  His voice trembled and he started to sway.

  Tatum grabbed Tripp by the shoulders. “We all are. We have to help him.”

  “We can’t. When he puts the gun to his head, man… it’ll be…”

  Tripp’s eyes closed as he shook his head. Tears filled my eyes. Maggie came towards me and I waved her away. Another pain shot through my stomach, this time going beyond my stomach. It rocked my world… a feeling from my toes to my heart. Like a slithering venom that took hold of me.

  Tatum pulled Tripp in for a hug. “Don’t say shit like that.”

  “Boom,” Tripp said. “It’ll be over then. If that’s what he wants. Boom.”

  “Stop,” I whispered. “Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop.”

  “Annie, let me help you inside,” Maggie said.

  I turned and opened the door, leaving, just like Logan had done. I hurried to pull the door shut behind me and was consumed by the evening air and the dark sky. I looked where Logan’s car had been, the space formed in and around by our cars. He had to wiggle his way out of the spot but did it.

  He was gone.

  Really gone.

  But… what kind of gone?

  Was he gone like spending time alone? Or was he gone like Tripp’s brother?

  My nerves shook at that thought.

  More pain attacked me. I hunched over and let out a cry. When I could stand again, I started to walk, taking stuttering steps along the gravel, my hand out, my fingertips touching the garage. I forged my path towards Tripp’s house and once inside, I started to run. The pain hadn’t gone away and the uncomfortable feeling everywhere made me believe that I was going to be sick.

  I rushed to the bathroom and collapsed to the floor. I lost all feeling in my legs for a few seconds. As I crashed to the floor I landed on my right knee. The pain from that didn’t hurt quite as much as the rest of the pain in my body. I pulled myself to the toilet and positioned myself, ready to throw up.

  I waited but the feeling never came.

  The pain remained.

  I started to cry, as much as I didn’t want to. When I cried, it hurt worse. But crying was the only reaction my body could have to the pain. I found myself rocking back and forth, one hand on my stomach the other touching my hair.

  The pain started to feel like a swell in the pit of my stomach. A swell like someone squeezing me, hurting me, maybe even killing me. Then I felt something wet… something wet between my legs. I closed my eyes and cried out in pain again. I touched my pants and undid the button. My panties were a very light blue color and the second I opened my pants I could see…

  “Annie? Are you okay?”

  I turned and saw Maggie. I was never so relieved to see Maggie. I hated the world in that moment but a true friend, like Maggie, would always be there. And she was there, just when I needed her.

  “What is it?” she asked me.

  I licked my lips. “Blood…”

  The pain swelled again and this time, it won.

  Everything went black.

  24

  At first, when I realized I was in a hospital, I thought it had to do with Logan. My mind decided to pick up where the conversation had left off in the garage. I thought I was the one sleeping in a chair in the hospital room, hoping and waiting for something good to happen to Logan.

  But the roles were reversed.

  I was in the hospital bed.

  I pushed myself to sit up, expecting pain, but none came. I actually felt… good. I didn’t mean to think that word, considering the mess surrounding my life, but it was the first word that came to mind.

  Then I looked to my right and saw him.

  Him.

  Logan.

  He sat in a chair in the corner, wearing a hoodie with the hood pulled up, his head resting against the wall. His arms were folded as he slept. My lips began to quiver, somewhere stuck between excitement and feeling thankful. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see him agai
n.

  But there he was.

  His beautiful face, his beautiful body.

  Logan.

  My Logan.

  I took a deep breath and settled back into the bed.

  I thought about the night before and all that had happened. I looked down at the bed sheets and touched my stomach. That’s when a wave of terror came across me.

  “Oh, no,” I whispered.

  I tried to sit up again and bumped a button that turned on the television. It made a scratching sound for a second as it turned on. The morning news began to blare, a skinny looking man way too excited to give out alternative directions around an accident on the highway.

  I saw Logan stir for a second and then his eyes opened. When we saw each other, we both smiled. Of all things, we both actually smiled.

  Logan lunged from his chair and pulled his hood back.

  “Annie, oh, Annie,” he said. “You’re…”

  “I’m fine,” I said.

  Logan was there, next to the bed. Staring at me. Then hovering over me. But he didn’t stop there. He bent down and kissed me. Right on my lips. He kissed me once, he kissed me twice, he kissed the tip of my nose, and then he kissed my forehead. When he stopped, he lingered, and that’s all I needed. I put a hand to the back of his neck and pulled him down again. This time we kissed like we were supposed to.

  Our lips parted and I tasted his mouth.

  We would have kissed all morning and all day if it wasn’t for a knock at the door followed by someone clearing their throat.

  The morning nurse came into the room as Logan and I stopped kissing. My face was on fire… my body feeling the same.

  “How are we feeling this morning?” the nurse asked.

  She was a tall woman with thick black curls and glasses. She looked haggard and tired. I pushed to sit up and smiled at her.

  “I feel good,” I said. “Rested. And good.”’

  “Okay,” the nurse said. “The doctor will be here in a few to check on you. I’m guessing you’ll be released this morning. Everything looks fine.”

  “What happened?” I asked.

  The nurse’s eyes left mine and I turned my head to look at Logan. I saw the look on his face. That look of worry, that look of fear.

  “What?” I asked. “What happened? Am I okay? Is…”

  I touched my stomach but wasn’t sure what to say.