Tailspin (Better Than You) (15 page)

              As she’s fidgeting with her shirt, placing a piece of hair behind her ear, anything to keep from looking at me, I ask, “What are you doing?”

              “I got bored,” she says, but I don’t buy it. She’s all over the place, her eyes jumping from here to there, her hands moving and never stopping.

              I could call her out on it, but I don’t.
Why?
Because I’m scared. Because it’s easier to live in denial. Because, what will happen when I acknowledge the truth out loud? “Sorry that took so long. I had to deal with some house stuff.”

              “It’s fine, really. I just,” she flips a hand in the air, “I needed some fresh air.”

              “Because you were bored,” I say with a challenge.

              “Yeah. I don’t do well sitting still.” As if to confirm this, she shifts from one foot to the other, runs her hands over through her ponytail. I watch every single one of her moments. “What’s next?” she asks. It’s obvious I’m making her nervous.

              “I thought we could grab some lunch.”

              “But we ate breakfast out,” she says quickly. As if realizing this, she adds, more slowly, “Maybe we should just eat back at your house. I can cook us something. You do have food to cook, right?”

              “Yeah, I have food to cook.”
But I don’t want to go back to the house.
She swallows, her whole throat jumping with the action. “Are you okay?”

              “I’m fine. Why?” She places her hands on her hips. “That’s not a very flattering question, you know. Do I not look okay?”

              I shake my head, try to backtrack. How did it happen that I’m the one backtracking? “No, you look fine.”
Better than fine
. “It’s just…” I don’t know how to say what needs to be said, because there’s no doubt that Logan is beautiful. With her creamy skin and thick hair and eyes that pull you in with their darkness. But this is about the way her hands are shaking, or how she keeps licking her cracked lips.

              “Just what?” she asks.

              “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

              “Yeah, of course.” She doesn’t seem too sure.

              But I can’t lose her.

              Not yet. Not like this. Not until she knows just how much I care about her.

              I smile and say, “Good. Then let’s go back to the house. I’m hungry, and I’m holding you to your word.”

19

April 3, 2009

              Logan has become a part of my real life. She’s not just a piece of an assignment, a way in, a connection. She’s so much more, and I can’t help but watch every movement she makes with a sense of guilt. Joshua and Emily have taken her in; have given her a place in their hearts. Somehow, she’s wiggled her way into our lives and I know that I’ll do anything to keep her there.

              I’m ready to quit, to call Chief and tell him it’s over. There have been so many times when I’ve had my fingers over his number, ready to push the send button and seal my decision, but then Logan’s phone will vibrate. She’ll pull it out of her pocket and glance at the screen, sometimes biting her lip in thought and other times rolling her eyes in annoyance. I know it’s Danny. I’m not stupid. I am, however, stubborn and prideful enough to put my own phone away and stay in a position where I can bring Danny down. I’ve convinced myself that doing so will help Logan more than lying might hurt her.

              It’s nights like this, though, that start to change my mind. When Emily, Joshua, Logan and I are all sitting at the table, laughing and eating and we’re a family, that my resolve begins to falter. It may be my imagination, but Logan looks healthier. Happier. As if being here has healed her, at least a little bit. Even so, there are times when I see her disappear, fall back into her mind and the darkness I know is there, despite the fact that she hasn’t shared it with me. It makes it that much harder to leave, to go to Brody’s party’s and dodge the questions in Logan’s eyes. I’m supposed to be going to one tonight, but since tomorrow is
the
party, the one that should end it all, I stay and watch as Logan laughs at a joke Joshua is telling, let it make me forget about everything I’m
supposed
to do. It’s making me forget that she has issues that are bigger than me. Pretending they don’t exist is so much easier than trying to solve them.

              Logan’s eyes meet mine from across the table, and instead of looking away, she stares back. I can see the questions, the confusion, but I also see something else, something that should break me down but instead fortifies that resolve to do what’s right. If anyone can save her, it’s me. I may not have been able to save Mom and Dad, but I sure as hell will be the one to save Logan.

              By the time dinner is over, I’ve decided to ditch the party. It’s Friday night, no one is working, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than here. “What do you say we watch a movie?” I ask, looking at Joshua.

              “Oh, can we watch that new alien movie?” Joshua asks excitedly.

              I look at Emily. “Is that okay, Em?”

              She shrugs her shoulders. “Sure. Whatever.”

              “Alright, go order it on the TV.” Before the words are even out of my mouth, Joshua’s running off, followed closely by Emily. And then it’s just Logan and I in a quiet kitchen, the space between us filled with so much more than air. I want to tell her how I feel, how I can’t stand to see her hurting and how I would do anything to take it all away, to make it better. But she’s so distant, unmoving, while it’s all I can do to fight the urge to gather her up in my arms and never let her go. I want to believe that the way she’s looking at me is the permission I’m seeking, but what if I’m wrong? What if I make things worse?

              Just as I reach my hand out, car lights sweep in through the window in the kitchen. A car pulls into the driveway, and thinking it must be Cora, because who else would be here at this time of night, I don’t bother looking through the blinds like I usually would. I don’t even stop to wonder why the door is opening and slamming without a knock. It’s only when I hear the heavy thud of footsteps so unlike Cora’s that I begin to question who’s in my house.

              When my eyes land on Danny’s imposing figure, so much bigger and more menacing than I remembered, the sound of Emily and Joshua fade into the distance. The mask of calm I’m so desperately trying to hold slips away with each second I stare into his cold, determined eyes. It’s only been just that, mere seconds, but the course of this night and possibly my entire life has just shifted, sent into another tailspin as I sit helplessly behind the wheel.

              Danny raises the gun in his left hand, aims it not at me but at Logan’s head, and I know that I’m fucked. He takes slow, measured steps toward us, stopping right beside Logan, so close he could smell her hair. “Playing house, Logan?” he asks, voice smooth as butter.

              The reaction from Logan is immediate, the way her body tenses and her nostrils flare telling me that she’s at once terrified and confused. Maybe even a little bit disappointed that I couldn’t keep this monster away. We got too comfortable. The evil, crooked smile on Danny’s face tells me that he knows this, too.

              Without taking my eyes off of Danny, I call out to Emily, who’s still in the living room, out of sight of the kitchen and oblivious to what’s going on. “Let’s watch that movie on my TV upstairs,” I say.

              “Okay!” she responds. She probably thinks I need time alone with Logan. I’ve seen the way she glances between us, trying to play matchmaker or Dr. Phil or whatever shit it is girls do. She’s told me more than once that she thinks we’re meant to be. If she could see this now, the barrel of a .45 pressed against Logan’s neck, I don’t think she’d think the same.

              Once the sound of Emily and Joshua has disappeared, I take a small, barely noticeable step towards Logan, hitting myself mentally for not closing this distance between us sooner. I could have pushed her behind me, had we been closer. But again I’ve failed at the simplest task.

              “Stay right there, pretty boy,” Danny warns while his arm muscles flex with the effort of pushing the gun deeper into Logan’s flesh. “If you move again, I’ll shoot her in the leg.”

              The thing is, I believe him. He obviously has no qualms about hurting her, but I’ve talked to a man with a gun before, been in this position, and maybe I can keep everything under control like I did last time. “You don’t wanna hurt her, man,” I say, despite the fact that I know it’s not true.

              He confirms this by saying, “You’re wrong. I
do
want to hurt her, which is why you should stay right where you are.”

              The more he talks, the easier it is to see that he’s on something. His eyes keep shifting, over me, over the space behind me, and even though his voice and hands are calm, it’s obvious he is anything but. It looks like he is about ready to explode, and when he does, he’s going to take us down with him. Slowly, I lift my hands in the air, palms out, surrendering to this maniac because I don’t know what else to do. “I’m not going anywhere. Let’s just talk.”

              “I don’t wanna fucking
talk
,” he snaps, spit flying from his lips. He looks…insane. Absolutely unhinged. “I invited you into my circle and then I find out you’re shacking up with my girl?
Fuck. You.
” I glance over at Logan, sure that my cover has just been blown and any minute she’ll realize my betrayal, but she’s slow to grasp his words. She’s on something, too. Danny’s right arm slips from around her shoulders and down to her waist, turning her to face him in the process. I can see Danny’s face, see how his eyes assess her, as if making sure she’s all in one piece. As if I would fucking hurt her. What angers me more than that, though, is how Logan doesn’t move an inch. She doesn’t put up one single ounce of a fight, just rests in his arms like she’s been waiting for him all this time.

              “Ready to go, Lo?” Danny asks her, his voice low and soothing. Logan turns her head to the side, meets my eyes, and nods. At first I think it’s some sort of signal, something to let me know that I should act now, but then I realize that she’s agreeing to him. Giving up. My hands shake with rage, with complete and utter helplessness, but then I see it. My opening. Danny’s whole face changes the instant Logan meets his eyes, his features relaxing and his lips parting to release a quiet sigh. Then the arm holding the gun to Logan’s neck falls away, slowly descends, down to her shoulder, then to her elbow, then pointing at the ground.

              And that’s when I react.

              With a burst of quiet speed, I lunge at Danny, close the space between us and throw my body against his. Because Logan was wrapped in his arms, she gets knocked aside too, but I don’t worry about that. Danny and I hit the ground hard, the gun knocked out of his hand and scraping across the wood floor. Before I can get a good hold on him, he rolls out from underneath me and lunges for the gun. From my position on the ground, I reach out and grab his calf, bringing him down to the ground yet again. But he’s got the gun and he points it right at me, one finger on the trigger.

              Out of instinct, I push his arm up and the gun goes off, the sound amplified in the closed space of the kitchen. Plaster falls into my hair and eyes. I scream at Logan to run. She doesn’t move. I finally get a hold of Danny’s arm and twist his wrist so that he yells in pain and releases the gun. It’s a matter of seconds when all of this happens, but it feels like a lifetime.

              Finally in full possession of the gun, I stand and hover over Danny, who’s propped up on his elbows and breathing heavily. There’s no fear in his eyes, just the same determination he walked in here with. He’s the most dangerous kind, because the only thing he has to lose is right behind me.

              I want to him to be afraid. I want to see the look in his eyes when I press the barrel of this .45 between his eyes and cock it. The whole scenario plays out in my mind, wills my feet to move forward and play it out in real life. My fingers twitch with the need to put this bastard six feet under.

              From somewhere far away, I hear my name. It’s soft, questioning, but it brings my heart back to a steady pace, sucks the revenge straight away. I look over to see Emily standing in the hallway, just outside the kitchen. Her eyes lock with mine. They plead,
please don’t
.

              And I listen.

              Danny deserves to die, but Emily doesn’t deserve to see it happen.

              “Go,” I tell Danny. “Don’t you ever let me see your face again.”

              He stands slowly, as if I didn’t just pardon his life. Wipes his hands on his pants, as if my floors dirtied them when in reality it’s the other way around. Sticks them in his pockets and waltzes out of the kitchen, down the hallway, and out the front door, all the while whistling a tune I know will forever be burned into my memory. Before I can even move, Emily rushes over to Logan’s side.

              “Nathan, she’s not responding,” she says anxiously.

              I shove the gun into the waistband of my pants and move to Logan. Kneeling down in front of her, I cup her face in my hands and raise it so that her eyes meet mine. They’re wide, full of fear and confusion. I don’t say anything. Words aren’t need right now. Instead, I lift her into my arms and carry her out of the kitchen. Emily is now standing with Joshua at the base of the stairs, her arms wrapped protectively around his shoulders as tears streak his cheeks. It should be me comforting him. Comforting
them
.
I’ll come back
, I think, and climb the stairs with Logan. It hits me then, how light she is, how fragile and small and how wrong I must have been. Does she even eat? Has she always been high? Was I wrong to think that I could save her?