Chapter Six – Reese
Well, that was enlightening. I sit in my office at my house, at my desk, staring hard at the computer screen.
I don’t often get the chance to watch her live, usually I have to scan the camera footage late at night, but for some reason, I felt the urge to watch her tonight—and when I tuned in, I found her saying goodbye to Sloane and Elias.
What I assumed would be an hour or two by herself turned into something else.
Logan Crew.
There was a time when I used to think he was done with Wren, but the past few months have proven that he is far from done.
The cameras in his place caught everything.
How he wallowed. How he moped around like a lovesick puppy.
I almost felt bad for him, but every time that silly sense of empathy threatened to emerge, I reminded myself he was the reason Wren got hit by that car in the first place.
If it wasn’t for him, she never would’ve been out that night, in that exact spot. She got hurt because of him.
So, yeah, when I saw him stroll in, I knew I had to watch. I had to listen. I had to see just what his endgame was, showing up out of nowhere—and now I know.
He still wants her. He wants her to forgive him.
He recognizes the fact that he hurt her, that he caused all of this, and he still wants to try again.
They are fire and ice, two totally different beings, but I can’t judge him too harshly because of that.
After all, Wren and I aren’t alike, either.
I’m the shadow and she’s the bright daylight.
Opposites do attract, it’s true.
I thought I made a blunder by approaching her at that party. It wasn’t the smartest thing, to show up to a college party, but once I heard the theme of said party, I figured it’d be easy to blend in without disclosing my identity. And it was easy.
And Wren? She melted into me like she was always meant to.
I might’ve taken things a step too far with what I did, how I touched her, but I’ve been a man obsessing for the last five months, and I could not hold back anymore.
I needed a taste. I needed something. And even though she couldn’t see my face, she felt the same connection I did.
Someone like Wren didn’t let just anybody stroll up to her and touch her like that, Logan notwithstanding.
She had me from the very beginning. Soon enough I’d get her to run for me, but first thing was first: I need to take care of Logan, and I believe I owe the girl a date.
The date will come first, and then I will put my focus onto Logan Crew, where I will find out if he has what it takes to survive one of my mazes.
He’ll make it through, or he won’t. That’s the beauty of my mazes. Like trapped mice, they don’t know where to go. Around every corner could be their demise. Ultimately, saving themselves is on them, and unfortunately for Logan, no one has ever made it out of one of my mazes alive before.
Being a Scott has its perks. Money and knowledge of certain things, such as the disposal of bodies, are in our blood.
I don’t have high hopes for Logan, of course. If he’s proven anything, it’s that he is one giant fuck-up, something even he admits now. He certainly does not deserve Wren.
Watching them kiss… it was enough to boil my blood. I had to resist every impulse to get up, go over there, and pull them apart. It was good that I didn’t, because Wren came to her senses and pushed him away shortly after, but the damage, so to speak, was already done.
Logan would either surprise me, or he would fail and disappear from both my and Wren’s life. Honestly, I would be a liar if I say I’m not hoping for the latter. I don’t think he has it in him to pull through and surprise me.
I go to sleep that night thinking about Wren and the date I want to take her on.
Dinner and a movie? Or is that too old-school?
Too cliché of a first date? I’ve dated in the past, yes, but never someone I actually cared about, someone I actually wanted.
I never put much pressure on any dates or any woman before, because none of them could ever truly understand me.
Wren? We are opposites, yes, light and dark, but she’s seen me in my mask and she craved me as much as I craved her. I’m pretty confident she could be the one. She could be mine forever.
Such a silly thing, the notion of forever. I never understood it, not until her. I never got the urge to have someone like that, to claim their very soul until the end of time, but Wren and I… if we weren’t forever, then everything in my life is a lie.
By the time morning comes, I have decided on the date.
I text Wren just after my ten o’clock class with my plan for the night, and I wait with bated breath for her response.
She very well could say no. After Logan’s sudden appearance at her door last night, she might be too lost in her head to want to go out with me tonight.
It’s winter, so options are limited. There’s no romantic walk in the park when the wind chill is in the single-digits and it gets dark outside before five.
I decided on a dinner date, no movie. Keep it simple and short, if she wants, but if she wants the date to continue after dinner, well, I am more than happy to oblige.
Her response comes swiftly: Sounds fun. Let’s do it.
I respond when I can and say, I’ll pick you up at six.
I am riding cloud nine the rest of the day.
Of course, I spend the early afternoon getting ready for said date, but I also make sure that there’s no possible way Wren can stumble upon the maze I’d built in the basement.
The camera footage on my computer in my office is hidden behind a passcode, so unless she’s a master hacker, I don’t anticipate her stumbling upon that. Still, better safe than sorry.
By five in the afternoon, I’m showered, dressed, and ready for the date, but I can’t leave too early, so I stroll to my office and pull up the cameras I’d hidden in Logan’s place.
I find him sitting in his studio, where he’s amassed quite the collection of instruments, mostly guitars.
Electric, acoustic; I’m fairly sure there are multiple kinds of each, but I’m no musician.
He sits shirtless on a bean bag chair, an acoustic guitar on his lap. He strums along absentmindedly, but based on the look on his face, he’s somewhere else. I don’t need to be a mind-reader to know where his thoughts are.
Wren, obviously.
Logan lets out the world’s largest sigh as he sets the guitar down and leans forward, muttering a hard, “Fuck.” That single word holds such dejection, I almost feel bad for him.
He probably thought he’d be able to sweep all his wrongdoings under the rug by that declaration and apology at Wren’s yesterday, but real life isn’t as easy as it is in the movies. Grand gestures aren’t enough.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, and I wonder if he’s going to try calling Wren or something.
He stares at his phone for a long time before his thumb taps its screen a few times, and he brings that phone up to his ear.
Though I’m not there, from where I sit, I’ll be able to tell whether it’s Wren he’s calling or someone else.
I get my answer from the first words he says, “Hey, bro. Yeah, sorry. Been MIA. How was Christmas with Mom and Dad?”
His brother, then, who he apparently hasn’t spoken to since before Christmas. I knew he didn’t go home for the holidays, so it shouldn’t surprise me. He’s done nothing but wallow. Losing someone like Wren tends to do that to you—unless you’re the guy who cheated on her and broke her heart.
Oh, I haven’t forgotten about Mike. I’m planning on getting to him later. Right now, Wren and Logan are my first priorities.
Logan listens to what I assume is a story about Christmas and their family.
It’s a while before he says, “Yeah, I wish I could’ve come home, but I had some things I needed to take care of here.
” His brother must say something that’s semi-insulting, because he scowls.
“What? No, that’s not it. I didn’t even go out New Year’s Eve, I swear. ”
It’s true. He didn’t. I thought, maybe, he would’ve been over Wren by then, but he wasn’t, so instead of going out and partying, instead of hooking up with whoever he could get his hands on—or put his dick in—he kept to his house and was miserable by himself.
“No, I mean it,” he says in a huff. “I didn’t go out.” Another pause. “Yeah, well trust me, I know that sounds insane, but it’s true. I can’t remember the last time I went out and had fun.”
I don’t know what his brother says, but it’s a long moment before Logan mutters, “Remember that girl I told you about last fall? I, um, I fucked up. I fucked up so bad I don’t think there’s a way to un-fuck it.”
Well, at least he recognizes that fact. Maybe he will surprise me in the maze after all.
He uses his free hand to tap his stomach as he stares at the ceiling and speaks to his brother, “Something happened to her because of me. I tried to see her after, but… her roomie convinced me she’s better off without me, and I thought she was right. She probably is.”
Either his brother tells him some comforting platitudes, or he says something Logan doesn’t want to hear, because Logan frowns as he adds, “I tried, man, I fucking tried, and I felt like I was losing my goddamned mind. I saw her yesterday. I thought… fuck, I guess I thought I could apologize and everything would go back to the way it was.”
He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m losing my mind, man, I really am. I thought I was fucked after getting booted from the band, but this feels so much worse than that.”
You know, the longer I sit there and listen to him, the more my mind changes. Maybe Logan isn’t a lost cause after all. Maybe he can survive my maze, and if he does, well, maybe he and I can start off on a new foot, begin again.
Maybe there’s hope for this boy yet.
And then, Logan says something that stuns me: “I think I love her.”
He thinks he loves her. That declaration must have been tough for someone like him to say, even to his own brother.
Given his history and his penchant for girls, booze, and drugs—the lifestyle of the rich and famous—being faced with the fact that he might just be in love is probably enough to end his entire world.
Someone like Logan Crew can’t love a girl like Wren Lyons. It just doesn’t compute, or it shouldn’t.
Now that the words are out there, he repeats them more firmly, “I think I love her, and I don’t know what to do about it.
” It’s only a second or two before he says, “Look, man, I have to go. I’ll talk to you later, okay?
” I doubt his brother has the chance to say anything else before he ends the call, and once the call is done, he tosses his phone out of his hand and lands it on the floor a few feet away.
“Fuck,” he says to himself, and then he buries his face in his hands. From the angle the camera views him, he appears utterly dejected, so forlorn it’s quite sad. I sit there a while and stare at the screen, at Logan, waiting for him to dust himself off, so to speak.
But he doesn’t. He continues to sit there, with his shoulders slumped, like he really is experiencing a crisis of identity.
If anything can make a man change, I suppose it’s love. In my family, love always borders obsession, but to the average, everyday person, love is different. It’s consuming. Once it has you, it doesn’t let you go without a fight.
Does Logan love Wren, or does he merely think he’s in love with her? Hmm. There’s one way to be sure. Alas, tonight is my and Wren’s date, so he’ll have to wait. Maybe I’ll pay him a visit tomorrow, and I’ll see just what his choice is when he comes to the end of the maze.
If he makes it to the end.