Prairie

 

I use my flatiron to straighten the last section of my hair and spray it, fluffing it up at the roots a bit with my fingers. It only took me twenty-two years but I’ve finally managed to tame my mess of honey brown curly waves. I part it slightly off to the side and tuck one side behind my ear while I finish applying my makeup. I’m not sure where we’re going tonight but Brooke begged me at work today to come out with her and some guy she just started seeing. Apparently he has a friend that I just have to meet, according to her. So, I’m trying my best to let go of the past tonight and I’m going to try and move forward. Wherever Logan is, he isn’t here with me…and I can’t keep waiting with my heart in limbo. I dust some powder across my nose and swipe on a coat of mascara and stand back, surveying my appearance.

I’m not much for dressing up, opting for a plain snug white tank top and a pair of dark skinny jeans. I sit on the toilet and slide on my brown cowboy boots, my most frivolous purchase since I moved to the city. I stand back up and look in the mirror, staring at the necklace Logan gave me all those years ago. I reach behind my neck for the small clasp but find my fingers frozen in place. I can’t bring myself to take it off. I huff out a breath as I flip off the light and head for the kitchen. Moving forward is easier said than done, apparently. I pick up my phone and see a message from my mom and Neil.

Mama: Hey honey! Just checking in, Vegas is great! Miss you xox

There’s a picture attached of my mom and her husband, standing in front of the Bellagio Fountains. I smile as I type my reply.

Me:Miss you guys too! Have fun. Heading out tonight with Brooke

Mama: Good for you sweetheart, xox

Three years ago, my mom met Neil through an online dating site. I was skeptical at first but once I got to know him, I loosened up. He was married for ten years before his wife up and left him one day for her personal trainer. They didn’t have any children. When my mom and him started chatting, they bonded over their mutual distaste for the internet. They got married last year and still live in Edison, not far from my aunt and uncle.

I know my mom worries about me being here by myself but they’ve come to visit a few times and I go back to Edison for all the major holidays. I finally told her last Christmas about the assault. I tried to explain that I couldn’t tell her right away because I was still trying to wrap my head around it but she was still hurt that I’d kept it from her and of course she blamed herself for not pushing me when she knew something was wrong. But I wouldn’t have told her, no matter how hard she tried.

 Every once in a while, she suggests that I should go back to college. But for now, we agree to disagree. I like where I’m at right now and I’m only twenty-two, I have time to figure it out.

A knock on the door grabs my attention and when I look through the peep hole I see Brooke standing there smiling. I unlock the door and pull it open.

“Hey,” she says. “You ready?”

Her blonde hair is pulled back in a sleek ponytail and her makeup is natural with the exception of her dark red lips. She’s wearing tight black pants and a low cut black shirt, equally as tight, and black leather boots with a dangerously skinny heel.

“Yup, just give me one sec,” I turn back into the kitchen and grab my small purse off the counter. “You look great by the way,” I call over my shoulder.

She looks me up and down as I come back. Grinning she says, “You can take the girl outta the country but you can’t take the country outta the girl.”

“Amen,” I say.

“Jesse’s waiting downstairs,” she tells me. “I guess his friend is meeting us there.”

“Where exactly are we going?” I ask, locking the door behind me.

“Some warehouse downtown,” she says. “Apparently there’s some street fighting, MMA thing going on tonight.”

I give her a pointed look, but she raises her hands in innocence.

“We won’t stay long, I promise,” I swears. “We’re hitting the clubs tonight and getting our dance on as planned. This is just a pit stop.”

“Mmhm, I’m not doing anything illegal, I don’t care how cute you think this guy is.”

“A pit stop, I swear,” she repeats.

 

*

 

The drive downtown is mostly filled with awkward silence as I sit in the cramped backseat of Jesse’s Mustang. There’s something about this guy that just rubs me the wrong way. It seems unfair since I don’t even know him but my instincts are screaming at me that Brooke can do much better. She tries to fill the silence with small talk but Jesse just nods along, uninterested it seems.

Luckily traffic isn’t too heavy and soon we’re pulling into the gravel parking lot of what looks like an abandoned warehouse. We crossed the train tracks to get here and there’s not much on this side of the city except for an old railway station that looks deserted and a large fenced in junkyard of some sort. I really don’t like the looks of this place, but Brooke promised we’d be in and out so I suck it up and climb out of the backseat. I follow Brooke and Jesse up to the large faded brown building. There’s quite a few vehicles in the lot and some people standing around outside the doors smoking and drinking. I decline some girl’s slurred offer of a beer as we enter the building. The air is humid and thick with the smell of sweat and the coppery hint of blood. A large makeshift arena is set up in the middle, a rusted chain link fence surrounding it. Music blasts from speakers that I can’t see, people cheering and hollering just above it. Jesse drags Brooke deeper into the crowd and I follow along closely behind. As we get closer to the cage, I can hear the sound of flesh hitting flesh along with the occasional grunt. I don’t want to watch but I also don’t want to get separated from Brooke, so I keep up as best I can. When Jesse finally stops he turns to Brooke and me.

“You gotta see this guy babe, he’s fucking crazy,” he shouts. “I got five hundred dollars on him tonight, he never loses!”

Brooke glances back at me and shrugs her shoulders. The crowd around us begins to go crazy, cheering and counting down. There’s people in front of us but I find myself trying to catch a glimpse of their apparent champion. I’m suddenly thrust forward and when I look up, I see the man standing in the cage. He’s wearing nothing but a worn out pair of jeans and a pair of black boots. I glance up his body, past his heavily tattooed arms and muscular chest. His fists are still clenched at his sides as he’s announced the winner. Tension pours off of him in waves and when I finally feel brave enough, I look at his face. His jaw is clenched beneath a spattering of dark stubble, his dark brown hair a little long but it suits him. His eyes find mine and the breath is sucked from my lungs. I stumble back. Logan? 

Before I can take a step forward, I’m pulled back by the crowd and shoved further and further away. My chest tightens and my lungs burn as I try to breathe. I fight back the tears that fill my eyes, trying to hold it together long enough to find Brooke, but the bodies around me blur and I can’t see her. I stumble back, towards the door. I need air.

“Hey there gorgeous, where you off to in such a hurry?”

The feel of a clammy palm gripping mine has me clenching my teeth and turning abruptly. I rip my hand away and narrow my gaze at a guy who doesn’t look much older than me.

“Easy there, just thought you might like some company,” he grins, his hands up in surrender.

“No thank you,” I say firmly, continuing to the door we came through when we arrived.

I step outside, through the people, away from the noise. I scan the parking lot, willing him to appear again when I spot a lone figure, walking away from the building. I head in the same direction, nearly jogging to catch up with him.

“Logan?” I call out.

He turns slowly, beneath the dim lamppost, his gaze is hard and unwavering. He’s looking at me as if I’m not really here.

“Logan,” I say gently, my voice breaking.

I take another step towards him when the sound of screeching tires stops me. A black car appears out of nowhere and three men jump out. I step back, knowing that I need to get help. They don’t notice me as they shove Logan to the ground. I turn and run, my heart rattling in my chest as I call for help.

“Help! Someone help him!”

I run straight into a hard chest as a pair of large hands brace my arms and I look up. “You have to help him,” I pant.

“Help who, sweetheart?”

“Lo-Logan,” I say. “They’re hurting him.”

“Logan?”

I nod frantically and point in the direction I came from, where I left him. He shoves past me and runs. I try to keep up and just as we approach the spot where Logan now lays on the ground, the black car speeds off.

“Goddamn Santos,” the guy says before crouching down. “Logan, can you hear me, come on man.” Logan groans and rolls over, his face bloody and bruised.

“Wh-who was that?” I ask.

“The guy he beat tonight,” he explains. “Getting some payback.”

As if realizing he doesn’t know who the hell I am, he looks me up and down as he slings an arm underneath Logan’s limp body.

“You know him?” he asks.

“I used to,” I say. “I haven’t seen him, I mean, I didn’t kno- Yes, I know him.”

“Good, help me get him back to my truck,” he says.

I take the other side and hold Logan up as best I can as we head back for the parking lot. We stop in front of a red pickup.

“Are we taking him to the hospital?”

“No sweetheart, we’re not.”

“He needs a doctor,” I insist.

“He’ll be pissed if he wakes up in a hospital bed,” he says. “If he wants to go when he wakes up, he can call me and I’ll take him. But for now, I’d rather save my ass from his wrath.”

“Where are we going then?”

“You have a name?”

“Prairie,” I tell him.

“Trevor,” he says with a nod. “We’ll take him back to his place for now.” I glance back at the building, I should find Brooke.

“You got a date in there?” he asks, hoisting Logan up into the backseat.

“No,” I say. “Just a friend. I should let her know I’m leaving.”

“Make up your mind, I gotta get him out of here,” he says impatiently.

I nod and hop up into the passenger seat. I’ll text Brooke later, once I know that Logan will be okay. Logan. After all these years. My hand shakes as I reach for the door and slam it shut.

 

*

 

We pull up to an average looking building not far from the warehouse. Logan has groaned on and off from the backseat the entire way.

“I really think we should take him to the hospital,” I say again.

“No hospital,” Logan rasps from the backseat.

“Told ya,” Trevor says. “Let’s get him upstairs.”

A little more lucid now, Trevor manages to get Logan to the front door of the building on his own and up the flight of stairs to the second floor. He tosses a set of keys at me and I unlock the door, opening it wide and brushing my fingertips along the wall until I find a switch. I see an open kitchen/living room to my right and a narrow hallway to my left. There’s a king size bed and a matching chest of drawers in the corner, obviously acting as a bedroom. The apartment is tidy and uncluttered. The furniture is dark and masculine and the walls are bare. Trevor leads Logan to the large leather couch and helps him sit. He rests his head against the cushion behind him.

“He’s gonna need some ice,” he tells me. “There’s probably some pain meds in the bathroom.” He checks his phone and picks his keys back up from the coffee table.

“You’re leaving?” I ask.

“Sorry, duty calls,” he shrugs, holding up his phone. “He’ll be fine, this isn’t his first rodeo.”

“But, you’re just going to leave him here with me?”

“You said you knew each other,” he says, scrunching his brows together.

“Well, I do, I mean, we do but it’s been a-“

“Good enough for me,” he says. “Take good care of my boy and tell him to call me in the morning, he’ll understand why I couldn’t stick around.”

The door clicks shut behind him, echoing in the large room. I take in the bruised and broken man slumped on the couch in front of me. I tamp down the ache in my heart and the flutter of nerves in my stomach and leave the room in search of supplies to get him cleaned up. He mumbles quietly as I leave the room, his eyes still closed.

Laced with a groan, my name falls from his lips.