Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
Logan
Nashville's city lights blur through the windshield, casting neon streaks across the rain-speckled glass.
My entire body aches from the drive. Twenty-four hours straight of endless highways, gas station burritos, and the occasional depression nap. The RV rattles over uneven pavement, its engine's hum cutting through thick silence.
Beside me, Devon slumps in the passenger seat, earbuds in and sunglasses on, even though it's almost dark. He hasn’t spoken in hours, not since we switched drivers somewhere outside Memphis and he tried to corner me in the bathroom for a “talk.”
I haven't seen or heard from him in… six months, nor did I ever want to again.
Arya’s in the back, alternating between scrolling through her phone and singing loudly along to the music. If I didn’t already know that Salem is a heavy sleeper, I’d wonder how the noise didn't wake her up. She’s probably used to Arya’s twangy voice, anyway.
The city skyline stretches on, but I don’t really see it. My leg bounces, the tension in my jaw growing with every mile. My stomach churns as we pull off the freeway, following the directions Huck sent earlier. I haven’t seen him in months, either.
I spent years texting my best friend daily—multiple times. Now all I have to show for it is a phone full of missed calls and voicemails. After everything that's happened, I just… don't feel like I fit into his world anymore.
For a second, I debate pulling over to clear my head before I have to act normal. As soon as my foot hits the brake, though, Devon shifts and pulls out an earbud.
“How much farther?”
I glance at the GPS on my phone. “Couple more blocks.”
“Fucking finally,” he starts to mutter, but I tune him out and press on the gas.
The RV itself is damn near complaining when I finally ease into the lot we’re renting for the week.
Gravel crunches beneath the tires. A neon-lit sign at the entrance reads Shady Pines RV Park, but there’s nothing pine-y about this place.
Just long rows of RVs, some looking like they’ve been here for decades.
A single, flickering streetlamp casts shadows over the lot when Taylor pulls up beside us in his bright yellow truck.
Killing the engine, I rub the back of my aching neck. The silence in the cab grows thick between us, filled only by the distant chirp of crickets and the faint hum of the highway.
Arya is the first to move, popping the door open with a dramatic groan. “I swear to God, if I don’t get a real meal in the next ten minutes, I’m eating Devon.”
She disappears into the humid Tennessee night, stretching like she’s been folded in half for hours—which, to be fair, we all have. Devon, on the other hand, doesn’t move. He sits rigid in the passenger seat, knuckles white against his knees.
“Are you getting out?” I finally ask, desperate for a moment alone to myself.
He exhales sharply through his nose. “I will when I fucking feel like it.”
Jesus Christ.
I bite the inside of my cheek and push away the thousand things I want to say, exiting the RV instead. Damp asphalt and cigarette smoke hit my nostrils. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barks, causing a few porch lights to blink on, but the area is mostly quiet.
Dev finally gets out, slamming his door harder than necessary before stalking toward the front office without a word. I watch as he disappears, my chest tightening painfully. The moment a red Audi crawls into the lot beside us, though, Devon is the least of my concerns.
Huckslee barely has time to shove his door open before Taylor collides with him, wrapping around his body like a koala. Huck grunts in surprise, stumbling back against the car with a low laugh.
“Missed me, huh?” he teases, but his hands tremble where they grip Taylor’s hoodie.
“Shut the fuck up,” Tay mumbles into his shoulder. “You already know asshole.”
The tension I’d been holding eases slightly at the sight of them—the way Taylor clings like they've been separated for years instead of a few months, and Huck just…
lets him. For all the bullshit those two have been through, they deserve all the good in life, even if it means leaving the rest of us in their dust.
Christian snickers, flopping against the hood of the truck next to Arya. “If I had to listen to him whine about missing his stepbrother one more time, I'd drive us over a cliff.”
Taylor flips him off without looking, and Huck grins so wide I’m surprised it doesn’t hurt. When his dark eyes meet mine though, that grin wavers.
“Hey,” he says, scanning me like he's assessing for damage. “Where's Salem and Dev?”
“She's asleep,” I answer, choosing not to address Devon. “I'll go wake her up.”
I practically run back inside, closing the door before leaning against it, feeling my lungs spasm.
The air inside the RV is just as thick as outside. My pulse roars in my ears, and I force my feet toward where Salem is curled on one of the bunks, face half-buried in her arms.
She looks… peaceful for once. Serene. I always loved watching her sleep, the way her brows pinch slightly and her full lips curve into a soft smile. I used to love kissing them early in the morning.
Waking her up feels cruel, but she'd want to see Huck, so I nudge her shoulder gently. Even if I wish I could crawl in beside her and sleep forever. “Salem. Wake up.”
She groans, rolling away from me. “Fuck off.”
That makes me smile, despite myself. “Can’t. Huck’s here.”
She stiffens, blinking at me bleary-eyed before bolting upright. “Jesus. What time is it?”
“Late,” I answer, rubbing the back of my neck. “But we just pulled in, so…”
With a sigh, she drags a hand down her face before swinging her legs to the floor. “Alright, alright, I’m up.”
I step back to give her space but as she passes by, her eyes narrow on me. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks.” You look gorgeous, like always. Beautiful and deadly.
Her frown deepens. “Where’s Dev?”
I swallow hard, jerking my chin toward the front of the RV. “Checking in or something.”
She studies me like she wants to argue but thinks better of it and shuffles outside. I’m left standing there, the quiet pressing in around me like a vice.
I should follow her. Should go back out and pretend everything’s fine, but I can’t make my legs fucking move.
Instead, I sink onto the edge of the mattress and twist my wedding ring around my finger, elbows braced on my knees.
Laughter peals through an open window—Taylor cackles, Huck’s voice rumbles something low. Arya giggles as the sound of a dirt bike revs to life.
Everyone's so happy that it’s suffocating.
After too short a moment, the door opens again and heavy steps approach me. I don’t even need to look up to know who it is.
Devon doesn’t say anything, but I feel him standing there like he’s waiting for me to acknowledge his presence.
The silence stretches on. Neither of us speak. The heat of his stare burns a hole into the side of my face.
I should say something, face the fire and get this thing over with. But my body won’t cooperate. My fingers dig into my knees, teeth locked tight enough to crack.
Eventually, Devon blows out an irritated breath. “You gonna keep pretending I don’t exist, or are we going to talk about it?”
“Not in the mood, Dev.”
“Well, neither am I.” Slow, deliberate footsteps close the distance between us. “You can’t ignore me forever.”
I scoff, finally looking up at him. “Watch me.”
His jaw tightens, biceps rippling as he crosses his arms over his chest. He looks exhausted, hair a mess from running his hands through it a thousand times. Dark circles rim his amber eyes, shadowed with something more sinister than just lack of sleep.
He opens his mouth, then shuts it before spinning on his heel toward the door. “Fuck this."
For some wild reason, watching him walk away only intensifies the ache in my chest.
I launch to my feet, throwing my arms wide. “That’s all you’ve got to say after ruining my entire life?”
Devon freezes mid-step, shoulders stiffening.
He slowly rotates in place, an unreadable expression on his face.
“What the fuck do you want me to say? Sorry for telling you the truth? For giving you what you asked for? I’m really fucking tired of playing these games with everyone when I don’t even know the rules. ”
I flounder, searching for something… anything to say.
Because I don’t know the rules, either. I don’t know what the fuck I want from him but what I do know, is that nothing feels right anymore.
His “revelation” last year rearranged my entire existence, and not in a good way.
Everything I thought I believed turned out to be one big, fat lie. And then six months ago…
He wants to talk about rules? There aren't any. There never were.
Devon watches me for a second longer, then shakes his head with a bitter laugh. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”
This time, I don’t stop him when he walks away.
I just collapse back onto the bed and cry, my wife's scent still clinging to the sheets.