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Authors: London Casey

Some Kind of Hell (19 page)

BOOK: Some Kind of Hell
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I slept like hell that night and the next two nights, each of which were spent with me looking at my cell phone, begging for it to ring.

Just to hear from Logan.

Just to know he was okay.

Or would be okay.

I sent him two texts a day. One in the morning and one in the evening. Just to let him know I was thinking about him. I would never stop thinking about him.

It was four days after the funeral until I finally heard from Logan.

That was four days of feeling alone. Two nights I worked. One morning I threw up really bad, but that I blamed on a nightmare I had. A nightmare in which I was pregnant - huge, like the dreams I had before - but this time I walked into a bedroom and found Logan waiting for me... with Chloe. Jared’s Chloe. She was pregnant too, with Logan’s baby and he was leaving me for her.

Talk about messed up.

The text message that finally came was one word.

Back

That was it.

Just to tell me he was back.

Of course I had to work that night, but that I could easily solve. I started going through my phone and texting everyone I worked with. Someone would want the shift. Someone would cover it. I’d work any shift. Just to get a chance to be near Logan.

I passed Maggie in the living room and she asked me why I looked so flustered.

“Logan’s back,” I said. “I need to get the night off work.”

“He’s back?”

I nodded.

Maggie called Tatum and when she hung up a few minutes later, she stood in the living room, tapping her cell phone off her chin.

“Uh, Annie... Logan isn’t at the garage.”

“So?”

“They can’t find him.”

“Can’t find him? He’s at his apartment. I bet you.”

“I don’t know. Maybe you should...”

“What?” I snapped. “What? Ignore it?”

“Sorry,” Maggie whispered and backed away.

Nobody could work.

Not a single person would switch with me.

I texted Logan and asked him where he was.

He wrote back...

Here

Great.

Now he was going to be an ass to me. For no reason. What did I do?

I wrote back to him as fast as I could.

Okay. I’m trying to get off work so I can see you. Come to my apartment. I’ll just not show if I have to.

I waited and two more texts came. Two more people saying they couldn’t work. One girl was going out with her boyfriend and the other was babysitting.

Then Logan’s next text came through.

Just work. I guess the money is needed more than ever now.

I called Logan.

I couldn’t stand the texting then. Every word could be taken the wrong way.

Of course Logan didn’t pick up.

But I didn’t stop.

He picked up after I called the third time.

“Annie, what the hell?”

“Why aren’t you answering me?”

“I’m in the shower,” Logan said.

Cue my cheeks to burn. I felt like an idiot.

“Oh,” I said. “Maggie called Tatum and he said-”

“It’s nobody’s business what I do right now,” Logan said. “I’m showering and then... whatever...”

“I need to see you. We need to talk, Logan.”

“We’ll talk,” he said. “Just not today. Or tonight.”

“I miss you, Logan. I really miss you.”

Logan sighed. “I miss you too, Annie. I just... I got to go.”

The phone went dead and I let it slide from my hands.

Somehow I made it through the night at work. Mostly because we were slammed all night. From the time I showed up until thirty minutes after closing, the place never stopped. There was no reason for it to be that busy, but it worked for me. Killing time meant killing pain and worry.

The next day I tried to get a hold of Logan but had no luck. I kept my emotions in check and against Maggie’s will, I dragged her to the garage. Tripp and Tatum were there. But no Logan.

Seeing Tatum behind the drums and Tripp playing guitar just didn’t seem right. And seeing the empty spot where Logan should have been, was worse. Heartbreaking.

The night was somber, depressing. I was lost between thoughts and reality, the only real thing I picked up on between everyone talking was that the next DownCrash show would go on. Tatum had talked to Logan and he said he’d be there.

If anything, it gave me a little glimmer of hope.

The show was tomorrow night and that meant I’d at least see Logan. Whether I’d get to talk to him, get to touch him, smell him, kiss him, I wasn’t sure. But at least I’d get to see him in person.

Even if it was on stage.

I hated not seeing Logan. Or feeling him. It pained me with a raging jealousy each time I saw Maggie with or even near Tatum and the same for Tripp and Scarlett. Even when we left the garage, watching Tripp and Scarlett walking alongside the garage towards the house, it drove me mad. Seeing Tatum and Maggie share a goodbye kiss tore me apart. Worse yet, I told Maggie to just go with Tatum and have a fun night but she insisted on spending time with me.

Which we did in front of the TV, wasting our minds on chick flicks.

In the middle of a movie that I forgot the title to, Maggie looked at me and asked, “Can I ask something?”

“Yeah. Sure. What’s up?”

“Does it... feel different?”

“Feel what?”

“Your stomach and stuff,” she said.

“Not right now,” I said.

I could have smacked Maggie for bringing up the pregnancy. My mind had started to ease up and now it was all right back there.

“You know things will be good, right?” Maggie asked.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

I left the night at that. And the next morning and into the afternoon, I spent the day to myself, in my room. Maggie had work but I still didn’t come out of my room. I sat and stared at the calendar on my phone. Like a damn fool. Trying to find certain dates, trying to make sense of everything. I literally wasted the day away, purposely wanting to so I could get to that night and get to the DownCrash show.

It almost shocked me that I was allowed backstage.

The second the door opened and I saw Logan, I wanted to collapse in tears. Just seeing him brought life back to my heart.

“Logan...”

He looked up from a guitar and stared at me. “Hey Annie.”

Hey Annie?

That’s all I was worth. He looked back down and addressed Tripp sitting next to him.

“This is what we should play next,” he said and started strumming a song.

I felt invisible but at least I could see him. I wanted to go up to him and tear the guitar off his body. However, I would not before a show. I didn’t want to mess up the band or their vibe. They needed the show, Logan more than Tripp and Tatum. Maybe that would reset things for him. Then we could talk and find some sense of normal.

It played out so easily in my mind.

So I stood there, waiting, hoping my presence was enough for Logan. Logan certainly didn’t seem normal. When Maggie told me it was time to go out front, I could have run.

The crowd was just as big as the others, proving that DownCrash really was gaining in popularity. People wanted to see them. They wanted to see them more and more. They wanted it all. I knew Jason had to be busy planning on how to push DownCrash even more. How to get the demo recorded and into the hands of the right people.

The lights dimmed but didn’t go out. The crowd came to life. So did I.

There was an existence of normal that I hadn’t felt in a while.

Something about the show and the music just made everything feel okay.

DownCrash took to the stage. Tripp looked around, checking on Tatum and Logan.

“We’re DownCrash,” he said into the mic and that began the show.

The first note was struck with a wild passion. They were fast, raw, and somewhat raunchy. The song seemed to speed up and slow down when it wanted. Tripp sang but his eyes were more towards Logan than the crowd. Everything felt... forced.

When the first song ended, I figured it was just the jitters of the show. They hadn’t played in a few days and had to cancel a show because of Logan’s grandfather. That’s all it was.

The crowd cheered, being the dedicated fans they were.

“We love you!” someone screamed.

“We love you,” Tripp said.

“It’s okay Logan!” a woman’s voice cried out, screeching.

That perked my interest. I looked into the sea of people and felt my lip wanting to curl.

“We’re with you man!” a guy yelled.

The crowd, of all things, then began to chant for Logan.

I looked at Logan as he stood with his bass. He stared at the people chanting for him - the people who wanted to hear his music, the people who paid for it, the people who would pay for years and years to hear DownCrash - but there was nothing coming off Logan.

No passion.

No care.

Nothing.

And sadly, that’s how the rest of the show went.

There was no passion.

No caring.

In between songs, Tripp tried to gather the band, but Logan would just start playing his bass. The sound of the bass by itself through the speakers was thick and overpowering. It forced Tripp to match Logan, leaving Tatum to find a spot to join the band.

I’d never seen anything like it before.

The crowd stayed, but they weren’t swept off their feet.

They applauded and that’s all it really was.

An applause.

They just clapped for the band.

There was no screaming. No pushing. No need to fight their way to get that extra inch closer to the stage because there was nothing coming back at them from the stage.

The final song came and went, Logan ending right when it should have. DownCrash always played the last song longer, cheering on fans, going into the crowd, doing something. But Logan stripped of his bass and dropped it to the stage and walked away.

He walked with his head down, leaving Tripp and Tatum to deal with the crowd.

Tripp ended the song next and hurried to pull the plug on Logan’s bass. That was the last I saw because I fled to the door to see Logan.

He was obviously writhing in pain and I wasn’t going to let him suffer alone.

I rushed to the room and opened the door as Logan had an acoustic guitar above his head. He stood next to a table and I knew his intentions.

“Is that your guitar?” I asked.

“Does it matter?”

“I think it does,” I said. “You wouldn’t want to break something that’s not yours.”

“What is mine right now?”

I closed the door and walked to him, taking my chances.

I touched his sides, feeling my fingers tingle. How long had it been since I’d touched Logan?

“I’m yours,” I whispered. “Right now. And forever, Logan. I know it hurts. I’m sorry it does. But don’t push me away. Not me.”

Logan’s body started to shake. He brought the guitar down and placed it gently on the table. his hands touched the table and his head hung.

“I can’t remember him playing,” Logan said. “I can’t hear it anymore. I used to. I used to remember hearing the chords. Those choppy chords that never quite sounded perfect but were good enough for him. I used to remember seeing his fingers and how they couldn’t curl around a coffee mug but could bend to play guitar. It came from the inside. I told myself that once we recorded the demo, I’d take him a copy... and ask him to play...”

“He’ll still hear the demo,” I said. “The world will hear it. When DownCrash is touring the world. The shows will be big and loud, all for him to hear.”

“So you believe in heaven?”

“I believe in whatever it takes to bring Logan back to me.”

My hands gently slid around his body some more, touching his chest and stomach. I wasn’t sure if it was wrong to enjoy touching his muscles but I did anyway.

“Oh, Annie,” Logan said, his voice cracking.

“It’s okay,” I said. “Why don’t we leave? Right now. You and me.”

“Okay,” Logan said.

My fingers wrapped around his sweaty shirt and I backed up, pulling at him. He turned and looked at me. There was still a flicker of Logan behind that look, giving me hope.

I walked him out of the room just as Tripp and Tatum started to walk towards us. I froze when I saw them. They both looked pissed off. And rightfully so.

I nodded at them, hoping they’d understand.

Tripp took a step and Tatum touched his shoulder.

Tatum nodded to me, mouthing
go.
..

And that’s what we did.

We left.

Logan and I, together.

~21~

 

I held Logan in my bed, more nervous than the first time we were naked in the same bed together. We were over the covers, our shoes and socks off. I took advantage of the situation by enjoying the smell of Logan. How much I’d missed that smell. His head rested on my right breast. Each time he moved or talked it made my toes curl, wanting him so bad. I hadn’t been touched since... a while. No matter the situations going on I couldn’t help myself and how I felt about Logan. How much he turned me on. How easily he turned me on.

My right hand played with his hair. My left hand scratched his arm.

We were in silence for a long time before Logan said anything.

“When did you find out?” he asked.

“Find out what?”

His hand moved and he touched my stomach with his pointer finger as though it were made of deadly acid or something.

“I just felt so much happening at once,” I said. “I threw up at your last show, when you started playing that new song. Maggie made a joke about it but then I started to put dates together. I used to be obsessed with calendars and time, before I met you. Then I completely lost it...”

“I know how it happened,” Logan said, “but...
how
?”

I swallowed and hugged him. “I never got more birth control. After things ended with Jared, I just stopped. I didn’t think anything would happen. And I should have thought about it and said something...”

“I should have done something,” Logan said.

It was the first time he came close to admitting involvement in the situation.

“No,” I said.

BOOK: Some Kind of Hell
9.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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