I finally open my eyes to the darkness that I lost myself in hours ago after Cameron got the hell out of here. I feel the sharp sting behind my eyelids, and as much as it hurts, I let the pain sink in and remind me of the awful things I did and said earlier. When I finally focus my eyes, I notice that I haven’t moved much and I’m still on the floor in front of the sofa where I slid to when I heard the door slam behind Cameron.
I never should have let myself get that far with him. I never should have opened that second bottle and I sure as hell never should have dragged him to the spare bedroom and let him do those things to me.
But you liked it. You wanted it.
“I did not, and no I didn’t!” I look around to see who’s talking to me and realize that it’s me. I’m talking to myself. “Christ, you’re losing your shit, DeLuca.”
I grab ahold of the edge of the sofa and drag myself up until I stand. I feel the blood rush to my head and groan. I finally manage to shuffle to the bathroom and soak under the hot water of the shower, relieving some of the pressure my body feels from the heavy drinking.
But, my mind still races and as images start to come back to me, I nearly get sick.
Cameron trailing behind me as I drag him into the room; him hovering over me as he pushes his way inside me; me begging him to not stop…
I can’t do this.
I’m not ready.
And worst of all, I took advantage of my best friend. My only friend these days.
But he fucked up too. He started talking about feelings like a fucking teenage girl. All I wanted was to forget. Just one night where I wasn’t completely consumed with guilt and fear and life. I got it but at what price?
I could lose my best friend for simply not reciprocating his feelings, ones I don’t have. But I could lose him if I go too deep. I lean my forehead alongside the slick tiles as the water beats against my body.
The only thing I can think of is keeping to myself no matter who I hurt. Beating myself up over a drunken, sloppy night hurts less than not having Cameron in my life. Cameron, JoJo, and Grayson are all I have left of the glory days and I’ll be damned if I let a fucking mistake come between any of us.
But you liked that mistake, Logan.
I open my eyes and stare at the light gray tile in front of me. My breathing speeds up as more images pop up until I groan in frustration. I look down and see my dick as hard as it was last night when Cam touched it with his mouth.
“Shit,” I grunt out my resignation as I watch my cock drip from the memory of Cam, achingly awaiting me to touch it.
I wrap my fist around myself and nearly come on the spot. I play through what I remember of last night on repeat, sliding my hand back and forth until I can almost feel him digging into my hips again as he comes inside of me.
I lean my free hand against the wall as I start to come, hard and fast, yet softly whispering his name over and over again until the water drowns me out and erases any signs of earlier.
I roll my head forward until it settles on the tile. “What the fuck is wrong with me?” I mumble in defeat. I push off the wall and turn the water off. What I need is my punching bag.
With a picture of Cameron’s face on it.
* * *
I stare at my fists, bloody and bruised because my stupid-ass self couldn’t manage to at least put some wraps on. I almost put them on but decided against and now, as I look over to where they hang on the wall, I can almost see them glaring at me with a smirk that reads ‘I told you so.’
An hour on the bag and I still feel all the pent-up anger boiling inside – over betraying Brad, over last night, and over the guilt I felt when I realized that for the first time in weeks that I had thought of someone else while in the shower.
I walk over to the cabinet that sits on the wall near the fridge that holds the water. I pull out the first aid kit and place it on the bench that sits just underneath it. I open it up and take out the peroxide, freely pouring it over my hands.
“Mother…Shit!” I hiss at the sting as I watch it bubble as it cleans the cuts on my left fist. I start to blow on it but when my phone rings, I shake the liquid off while reaching for the phone.
“What do you fucking want?” I bark.
“Asshole. Get here as soon as you can. We have some stuff to go over.” JoJo matches my tone, almost making me feel bad answering the way I did. Almost.
“What, did Cameron go babbling to you and now you think you have to give me a talk?”
“Pull the stick out of your ass, Logan. I don’t know what you’re talking about and I don’t care. We’ve got a break in the case and I thought you’d want to be here while we went over things with the team.”
“Give me an hour.” I hang up without a single thought but it starts ringing again. “Goddammit, Jo, I said give me a fucking hour before you start your precious little meeting.”
“Logan?”
“Oh shit. Lindsay?” My voice softens the second I hear my sisters voice. “You’re home?”
“I’m outside. Please let me in.” Her voice wobbles and I can’t help but feel a sting behind my eyes.
“On my way.” I hang up and call JoJo back.
“Calling to apologize?” He huffs at me but I ignore him.
“Lindsay’s outside my house.” I feel the words get caught in my throat, barely coming out as a whisper to Jo.
“We’ll catch you up later. Give her a hug for me.” I hear the phone hang up and I’m thankful Jo understands what this means. I grab the clean shirt I brought in with me and walk to my front door.
I open it up and let out a puff of air, trying not to give in to the overwhelming emotions that swell inside me when I see my sister for the first time in a year.
Lindsay starts to shake her head. “I…I came home as soon as I got the message. It didn’t get to me until last week. I’m so sorry.” I watch the tears silently fall down her face until she gets so choked up that she can’t speak.
For the last few years, Lindsay’s worked with the Red Cross in some of the more remote countries in Africa, trying to get them access to fresh water, building homes, and teaching them basic first aid as a relief worker. She comes home for a month, every six months, but other than that, getting a hold of her is nearly impossible unless she uses her satellite phone. Unfortunately for me, I was in Europe for two months the last time she came home.
Levi, my older brother, tried his hardest to get a hold of her but after hearing nothing for over a week, we gave up. But word got to her because here she is, standing in front of me, bringing back all the feelings I’d been trying to suppress.
I pull her into me and I feel my shirt getting wet. I hold on to her as I finally give in to the tears threatening to fall.
“Come on, let’s go inside.” I walk us in and head for the sofa, not letting go of my big sister. We sit down and she grabs my hand, holding tight.
“We’ve had some really bad storms recently; communication has been nearly nonexistent with everyone. We finally got one of the sat phones working and got some extra help sent to us. That’s when Dan brought me the message. What happened, Logan? All it said was Brad was gone and that I needed to get home.” She barely manages to get the words out so, I pull her into me, her arm going across my stomach and her head resting on my shoulder. “I came straight here from the airport.”
“He was kill – I mean he di – fuck.” I feel my chest rise and fall, faster and faster as I try to explain. I lean over to catch my breath but it’s not working. I should be used to explaining to people what happened. I’ve recited it countless times to the cops. I’ve said it out loud a thousand times just to familiarize myself with the words.
Brad was killed.
Dead.
I feel a hand rubbing my back, calming me down as she used to when we were kids. When I finally sit back, I stare into my sister’s red-rimmed eyes and tell her the whole story, from start to finish.
‘I can still feel him around here. I smell his cologne wafting around the air every now and then. I walk past his closet and I see the clothes he threw on the floor that he didn’t want to wear that night. His toothbrush still lays on the counter in the bathroom and his shoes still sit by the back door, waiting to be run in. I can’t bear the thought of moving anything because I still think that he’ll walk through that door any minute now. He’ll walk in and tell me, ‘Surprise, Logan. We were just fucking with you.’ But it doesn’t happen and I sit here alone, trying to piece together the last time that we did the little stuff together.
“When’s the last time we went dancing? Or went for one of our hikes. I can’t even remember the last time that we just sat in here, having one of our lazy Sundays – him doing that damn crossword puzzle while I read a book. I’m losing him all over again, Lindsay, and it’s killing me.”
And then I went and slept with Cameron.
I let the shame wash over me, taking me hostage in its cold, hard fist, and I don’t fight it. There’s no need when I submit to it willingly. I deserve to feel this way. I’m guilty of so many things with Brad – forgetting the sound of his voice, the last words he spoke to me, and, even worse, of not catching the bastard who took him from me.
“Stop beating yourself up over it, Logan.” Lindsay’s hand on my arm is as soft and soothing as her voice is. “Focus on what you do remember; like how you were always taking videos of each other. If you’re having one of those moments when you can’t remember something, why not play one of them? You can’t just hole up here at y’all’s house and shrink away. I won’t let it happen to you, too.”
I watch something dark pass over her face and I know she’s thinking of Landry. She always took it really hard when our brother died. She felt responsible for a lot of things that happened that year that was out of her control.
“Lindsay, don’t…”
We just sit there in the silence for a moment, holding onto one another. I feel something sharp press into my side when she curls her hand to her chest, and when I look down, I see the cause of my irritation.
“Hey, Linds?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re engaged?” I feel a rare smile creep up my face as she looks up at me.
“Um, kind of. Sorta.” She leans back and holds her hand out to me.
“We were going to tell y’all tomorrow night at dinner.” She wipes away the last bit of tears on her face and the hint of a smile starts to appear. Her whole face begins to glow and when I tell her as much, she starts to blush.
“Well, that would be the baby.”
I feel goosebumps cover my body, excitement replacing all the sorrow and grief that lingered in the air moments ago. I grab her in a hug, both of us laughing as I congratulate her.
“Jesus, Linds. When you go big, you really make a show of it. So, I take it Doctor Dan is here?”
“He’s at the hotel right now, giving us some time.” Her smile falters until a frown replaces it completely. “Your news is bigger than all of this, Logan. I’m just finding my one when you’re grieving the loss of yours. It’s not fair. This world is so fucked up and I’ve seen firsthand what terrorism and hate can do to people.”
“Lindsay, I love you. So much more than you’ll ever know. But fuck my life right now. Yeah, I’m a mess and will be for a very long time. But I need happy. Babies and engagements are exactly that right now. Cancel the hotel and stay here. I need sappy and happy romance. We,” I take in a shaky breath as I get serious for a moment before continuing. “We, um, were talking…that day. About kids. Starting a family, ya know?” I go quiet, replaying that day back in my head for the millionth time. I glance over to Lindsay whose looking into her lap, watching her fidgety fingers. She quickly brings a hand to her cheek and wipes away a rogue tear. When she looks up, I feel guilty about the uneasy look on her face.
“This should have been you and Brad.” She lays a hand over her stomach.
“It should have been both of us, Linds.” I place my palm over hers. “Two new DeLuca kids running rampant around the house. But I get to be fun Uncle Logan to him…her?” I watch Lindsay as a mischievous grin covers her face.
“A boy. All you need to know is we’ve got a name picked out and we’ll tell you all tonight.”
“Whatever. Get Dan over here and I’ll call Levi. I’ll head to the liquor store and grab some champagne and apple juice. We’re celebrating you, big sister. Tonight. I can’t wait until tomorrow.”
She looks at me for a moment, studying me. Probably making sure that I really am okay. I try to put on my best face when inside, I’m anything but. Finally, she nods her head and cracks another smile. “I need all my boys here. Call Cameron and Jo.”
I flinch at the sound of his name as it rolls off her tongue. “Um, JoJo’s working and Cam…” I shake my head vigorously from side to side. “I don’t want to see him right now.”
Lindsay stares me down and I see it dawning on her. I feel the heat rushing to my cheeks and she guffaws. I scrunch my face up in hopes that I’m wrong at her guessing.
“No fucking way! You did not do what I think you’re suggesting. Did you?
I cover up my face and nod at her boisterous laughter.
“Well, I guess it’ll just be us DeLuca’s tonight. You always surprise me, little brother. Even though I always wondered…” Her voice trails off as she picks up her phone to call Dan and as she starts talking I can’t help but be curious about what she meant.
What did she wonder?