We barely make it two feet in before I let loose on Logan.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? First, you want me to take a shot at that asshole when you know damn good and well that the house is wired and then you practically beg him to take that knife to Irina. What the fuck is your goddamn problem, Logan? Suddenly you don’t have a clear head, you’re making careless decisions…” I shake my head at him.
“Oh, like you’re one to talk, Mr. I-Keep-Letting-Him-Go! You went weeks brooding and moping around like some baby because some guy got the better of you,” Logan barks back. His face is matched with mine in anger and redness.
“I never put anyone’s life in danger. For all we know, Irina is lying in a pool of blood, dead, because you couldn’t help yourself acting like a fucking teenager who heckles the guy lower on the totem pole than he is. You’re acting like some bully, Logan. And it’s getting everyone in trouble and it’s putting us all in danger.”
“Excuse me? I’m the one who suggested we come here. You didn’t have to come. I might have dragged you out here to this little bum-fuck town, but you were dragged willingly. You could have gone off on your own, but then where would you be? I’m the one that came up with the idea to leave in the first place and I got us the plane. You should be thanking me that we made it this far. And I’m sorry, but that man is not going to risk taking out Irina when he himself said that he had a greater plan for her.”
I look at Logan, my jaw to the floor while I gently shake my head. “You’re just as insane as he is. How did I not see this? A greater plan, Logan? You’re starting to sound just like he is. God, I can’t believe I let myself fall for someone who has no respect for innocent lives.”
I stare at him, baffled that he really thinks that there’s some divine being telling Fuckface what to do.
“I can’t be in here anymore. I need some air.”
Logan storms out and all I can do is let him go.
I walk around the side of the motel. There’s not a lot of places for me to go except for the small little swing set that sits on the back of the motel lot.
I breathe in and out for a few minutes and let the night air calm me down. Eventually a few minutes turns into a half hour, and the more I sit out here, the shittier I feel.
We both know that things are coming to an end. It’s eating me alive, the need to get the man that killed my husband. But every time I see him, I see red.
I know I’ve got to reign it in. I’ve got to stop being careless and go explain myself to Cameron. And apologize. Again.
I get up rather reluctantly and head toward our room. When I finally stand in front of our door and turn the knob, I see him lying on the bed. Arms tucked under his head, he stares at the ceiling above him.
“I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t actually mean that there was something better for Irina. I know I keep fucking things up left and right but when I see that asshole, I see red. I can’t think straight and it’s screwing things up.
“I know I shouldn’t have enticed him. I know that what I did was selfish and wrong. But at the same time, all I wanted him to do was come after me. Not her, not you, me. I feel responsible for all this; did I ever tell you that? I was supposed to be looking after Irina when he took her. Like I said earlier, I’m the one that dragged you here. I’m the one that came up with this stupid idea to come out on our own. I’m sorry I got you involved.”
I hear a resigned sigh and then Cameron stands up. He walks over to me, his face neutral. But I can tell it won’t be good.
“You’ve got to stop thinking like that. This isn’t some suicide mission where you come out the hero. This is real life. No, you shouldn’t have enticed him, and no, you shouldn’t have tried forcing him to come after you. I promised that I would help get this man, but that’s where this ends. Here and now, I’m telling you that whatever might happen between you and me, it’s over before it starts. We’re toxic for each other, Logan. If you can’t see that, then you’re a blind fool.”
He turns and goes back to his bed and closes his eyes, bringing our conversation to an end.
I can only stand and watch. There’s nothing I can do to change the stubborn man’s mind. There’s nothing I can do to shake the feeling that he’s right. And there’s nothing I can do to change the fact that I can’t fully let him in which only proves his theory right.
* * *
I look into the eyes of the man sitting across me as we eat breakfast, the sadness and misery matching my own. I want to comfort him, hold him in my arms, but it feels wrong. Especially after the words we exchanged last night. But it’s also what resides in my heart. It feels like I’m betraying the promises I made in my vows so long ago even though they no longer matter.
Because of Brad.
Because of Josh.
Because life fucking sucks and there’s not a damn thing either one of us can do about it.
Sitting in this dank, dreary hotel room in the middle of bum-fuck Texas, I can’t help but wonder if this is how life is supposed to play out.
We live, we lose the people we fall in love with, and we die alone in a pool of our own desolation and despair.
Those that get a second chance are lucky. Those of us who don’t, sit in the back and wallow in our mutual self-loathing.
I’m just about to speak when my phone rings. The little black burner phone I picked up at a Walmart a few weeks ago makes a loud sound over and over until I finally answer. I can’t wait to get rid of this thing.
“Is that him?” Cameron’s voice whispers to me.
I can only nod. The sadness that was filling me moments ago, is now red hot with anger.
“Yeah?”
I listen to the voice leaving me instructions and then hang up.
“Today at noon,” I bite out.
“Thank fuck. There’s finally an end in sight.” The man behind the lost eyes relaxes as much as he can. An unnerving calmness spreads around the room. This is going to be what finally tears us apart. I let the thought settle into my heavy heart and I can’t bear the thought of losing anyone else. Especially not him, even if he doesn’t want me after this.
I watch Cam stand up from the small table we’re sitting at to go lay down on his bed. He curls into the same position that I see him wake up in each morning – a tight ball – and face away from me.
I feel my heart ache as I watch my best friend silently shake as the rage and hate consume him. I want to touch him, to comfort him, to make him forget for an hour why we’re here.
But there’s no touching, no consoling, no losing ourselves in one another. There’s nothing I can do for him or me. Not even after this is over.
Life after this will be like losing Brad and Josh all over again.