33
Logan
“Hi, baby.”
“Oh, fuck. Fuck!”
If my heart hadn’t been shattered to pieces before, it would be now, as the relief I feel at seeing my love open her eyes turns to pain.
She’s alive, and she wishes she weren’t.
Forcing aside my despair, I try on a playful tone. “Silly girl. Why did you do it?”
I know why; I spent the hours she was in an induced coma obsessively listening to the words she spoke just before she hung herself.
She tries to turn from me and winces. I can tell she’s suffering despite the medication dripping through the IV. I try to stroke her hair, but despite her pain, she manages to edge away, and my fingers land instead on the plaster around her neck.
She has a fracture, but her neck isn’t fully snapped in two, so Vincent is still alive.
“Do you want me to go?” I ask after a few moments of watching her look at everyone but at me.
A humorless laugh leaves her lips. “It doesn’t matter what I want.”
“Of course it does, Lia.” I manage to latch onto her hand before she can pull it away, and squeeze it. “It matters very much.”
“Really?” She turns her head again, grimacing from the effort. “Would you go if I told you to?”
I hesitate. “Maybe not.”
She closes her eyes, heaving out a sigh.
“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter.” I’m starting to feel like Quill, trying and utterly failing to speak in a non-psychopath way. “What you want matters very much, even if I don’t… if I can’t…”
“You can, Logan,” she snaps. “You just won’t. You could show some respect for me and leave the room. That’s all I’m asking. And you could do it.”
“No, I can’t. I really can’t.” I hold her hand, my eyes glued to hers, trying to make her understand. “I can’t leave you, Lia. I can’t lose you again. Please.”
“Well, I’m here.” She sighs. “So do your worst.”
I don’t answer, merely shaking my head as she turns her from me, so desperate, it seems, to not look at me, that she would rather endure what I can tell must be a lot of pain.
We sit silently like that for a long time—her, looking out the window, me, looking at her—until her eyelids droop, and she falls asleep.
Only then do I let go of her hand, carefully laying it on my lap, so I can pick up my phone and read the dozens of messages Damien sent me.
I’ve never felt more useless before. Utterly incapable of saving my girl, or forcing her to love me back. Equally incapable of leaving her to go find my daughter.
I had to trust Vincent with her life, and now I have to trust Damien with Jane’s.
I scroll through his messages, each more asinine than the other, until I find the information that interests me.
Damien: I found the social worker’s address. I drove out there. Literally drove back six hours to that little dump of a town where the Solaros got chopped up.
Logan: Okay, and?!
Damien: Dead-end. Well, I did find some signs that a girl had been living with her. Typical teenage girl shit: some clothes lying on the ground, dirty dishes…
Logan: Nothing else? How the hell can a girl just disappear in thin air like that?
Damien: Must be genetic.
Logan: Damien!
Damien: Anyway, trying to figure out where she went.
Who knew an idiot social worker could be so good with the disappearing act?
Though maybe she didn’t actually disappear.
It’s just those stupid police officers and their sealed documents…
why the fuck would that shit be sealed? And why am I not able to get it unsealed?
It’s like they don’t know who I am. It’s like they’re answering to new assholes.
I told you, man. People are really thinking the Puicin Gang are more important than Devil, these days. Fuck me.
I skim the essay Damien just typed out, getting increasingly impatient at his whining.
Logan: Stop being such a little bitch. Anyway, we don’t even know if she’s really my daughter.
Damien: True. But I took some of those disgusting dirty dishes, so we’ll find out soon. Up for some sleuthing, Logan, as your other daughter would say? At least one of your girls will talk to you lol.
I grit my teeth at his last sentence because, of course, Piper—or rather, Quill—very much won’t talk to me. But at least I know she’s safe in Oregon. I’ll have time to deal with that situation once I’ve resolved the rest of this clusterfuck.
I look up at Lia, her head resting on the pillow, her curly hair forming a halo around her pale face.
God, she’s so beautiful. I really am a special kind of monster for treating her the way I do.
I don’t want to leave. But how can I allow someone else to find my daughter? It’s my responsibility.
And Lia did ask me to go…
My chest tight, I stand up slowly and turn away from my ghost girl.
My hand is on the door handle when I hear the sheets rustle behind me.
“Logan? Where are you going?”
I turn back around. “I’m leaving, Lia. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”
She doesn’t answer, so I insist. “That’s what you wanted—no?”
I slowly walk back, staring at the tangle of wires that lead from her arms to the machine. A cold sort of dread fills my stomach. “Why aren’t you answering me? That is what you wanted. Right, Lia? You remember me… don’t you?”
She turns big, glassy eyes at me.
“Tell me you didn’t forget. Tell me, Lia.” I squeeze her hands. “What’s my name?”
She startles when my hands go from squeezing to crushing. “Ow, sorry. No. Please! Logan, please!”
Huffing out a sigh of relief, I press her to me, breathing in the feel of her trembling body in my arms.
“Logan… ow.”
“Sorry, Lia. Sorry, baby.” I pull her away from me, kicking myself internally when I remember the neck brace. “I’m sorry. I just can’t seem to help hurting you, can I?”
She lifts her lips into a tiny smile. “I guess I’m used to it.”
I stare at her, trying to make sense of the way she wants me gone one minute, then seems to change her mind the next. “Do you remember telling me to leave, Lia?”
She chews on her lower lip. “Well… yes. But I didn’t think you really would.
” Her face takes on a pink flush, and a tear spills out of her eye.
“Please don’t leave me, Logan. I’m sorry.
I don’t want you to go. I know I should want it…
but I don’t. Please… let me say what I need to say, and please… do what you mean to do anyway.”
I sit down on the bed, cradling her, trying to be mindful of the brace and the wires. She buries her face in my chest.
“I’ll stay, then, Lia. Of course I will. I’m sorry. Everything is my fault.”
I’m back to blaming myself, but I realize the truth now. Everything is my fault. Everything has always been my fault.
I let my head fall against her shoulder, running my fingers up and down her back. “I’m sorry, baby,” I murmur again. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want you to lock me in the cage anymore,” she whispers.
“I’ll… try very hard not to.” I tilt her head back, gazing into her sparkling green eyes. “No, that’s not enough. I give you my word, I won’t. I’m listening now. I wasn’t before, but I am now. I’ll do anything you want, Lia. Just as long as I know you don’t really want me to leave.”
“You’ll do anything I want?” she echoes, looking at me in surprise.
“Well, yes... within reason.”
“Will you let me do anything I want?”
I hesitate. “That depends, baby. What do you want?”
She’s back to chewing on her lower lip as she looks around the room. I can tell she’d like to test her newfound freedom, but can’t think of a single thing to do.
“You like the idea of freedom a lot more than the reality of it, don’t you, ghost girl?” I murmur, stroking the side of her face.
“No. No, that’s not true.” She averts her eyes, the way she does when she’s lying. “I’m just... not used to it.”
“Uh huh. Well, go on. Do something. I’ll let you.”
“Okay. Fine.”
She sits up with difficulty, and I have to resist the urge to reach over and help her. I watch her stand slowly, vacillating on her legs.
“Careful, Lia,” I warn her.
“I’m just... going to get that glass of water over there.”
I watch her take a few steps, as far from the bed as the IV drip will let her, then return, wearing a triumphant grin on her face.
“The water.”
“Hmm?”
“You forgot the water.”
“Oh.” She makes a wry face. “I’ll go back and get it.” Then she sits back down heavily. “Actually... can you?”
Trying very hard to keep a straight face, I grab the water from the table at the foot of her bed and bring it to her lips.
“How’d you like that little taste of freedom?”
“Asshole,” she mutters, gulping down the water, and the old nickname makes me breathe easier.
“Don’t you think you’re overdoing it with the captivity accusations?” I tease her gently. “It’s not like I don’t allow you to walk. I promise to let you fetch your own water any time you like.”
“Asshole,” she insists.
“Lia.” I bend down abruptly, pressing my lips to hers.
“Baby. You know I’d do anything for you.
It hurts me to see you hurt. I love you, Lia.
I do. More than I’ve ever loved anyone in my whole life.
You’re everything to me. Every single part of me.
And whatever you want... I will do my very best to give you. ”
I press my face to her curls so she won’t see my tears.
Then I hear her breath on my neck as she opens her mouth a few times like she’s hesitating.
“Yes, baby?” I breathe. “You can tell me.”
“What I really want is… I want to be free, Logan.”
“Yes, baby. No more cages. I told you, right?”
She nods slowly. “Yes.”
“It’ll be different from now on. I’m going to take good care of you. I’m going to make you happy...”
“But I don’t want to be happy,” she insists. “At least... that’s not the most important thing. The most important thing is freedom.”
“Right.” I frown, trying to understand why she’s insisting. “I told you, no cage. It’ll be different from now on. I promise.”
At last, she lies back down wearily, grunting with pain. “Okay, Logan. Okay. If you say so.”