Page 16 of Forgiving Fate

Logan wouldn’t put me in any danger unknowingly, so I am not terrified. I’m curious why he feels the need to tell me this at the exact moment I am about to walk into my childhood home.

He scrubs his hand down his face and moves the glasses off his face, setting them into the cup holder and adjusting his hat, giving me a clear view of his eyes. I notice the dark circles under his eyes and the way he is moving slightly in his seat to get into a more comfortable position.

Clearly, I’m not the only one feeling the effects of last night’s shit show.

“My brothers and I run an underground rescue network. People contact and task us with finding victims who have been taken. We all have our different roles. And I know now is not the time to get into every little detail, but I need to share what my role is for you to understand why I do certain things.” He pauses for a moment to gauge my reaction and when I say nothing, he continues, “I track down the victims and their captors using whatever means necessary to try to bring the victims back home.”

For the first time in a long time, I find myself wanting to ask a million and one questions. For so long, I have learned to stop asking questions and just do what I am told to avoid the pain of the answers or the pain that comes from answering them.

Landon continues, “I know you probably have a ton of questions and we have a long enough drive back to Washington, if you want to ask. But the reason I am telling you this is that I don’t want to scare you when I ask something.”

More confusion hits me and my head fills with more anxiety about the unknown.

Judging by the look on his face, I know he is telling the truth, but leaving so much out. And hedidsay that I could ask him anything on the drive to Cliff Haven. But part of me is scaredthat he will become the next monster, haunting my dreams when he reveals the entire truth about what he and his brothers do.

“Allie,” Landon says, interrupting my thoughts. I didn’t even realize my gaze had shifted to stare out the window.

Returning my gaze to him, he continues,“Logan wouldn’t put you in another situation where you are at risk. I know you don’t know me well enough to trust me. Let alone trust another man. But I need you to understand I will never do anything to make you uncomfortable or risk your safety.”

My mind continues to spiral and come up with a million different scenarios as to why he is telling me this. So for the first time in a very long time, I choose to swallow the lingering fear and speak up.

Sinking back into the seat, whilst also having my escape plan ready just in case, I say, “Landon, I appreciate you trying to explain what is going on and reassuring me I am safe, but please just tell me why you are doing this now?” My voice comes out more harsh and annoyed than I intend it to, and I watch for his expression to morph into anger.

But it doesn’t, and he nods. “I don’t want you to get scared when I ask you to stay in the car while I go check the house. I know where your parents keep the spare and the layout of the entire property like the back of my hand.”

“Why do you need to check the house? M–heis dead.” I stop myself from sayinghisname because the idea ofhisname slipping from my lips causes bile to rise in my throat.

I watch once more for his face to morph at the question I let slip out without a second thought and when it doesn’t come, I feel some of the stress leave my body.

“You’re right.Heis. But from my experience, it is better to be safe and extra cautious than it is to go in blind just because the apparent threat is gone.”

I let his words sink in. Glancing over at Landon, I watch as his head swivels and he looks at the quiet neighborhood around us and then back to the house.

Judging by the look on his face, I can tell he has done this a few times. Meaning whatever he and his brothers have done and currently still do has made him hypersensitive to any unknown situation.

I backtrack over everything he just revealed, and I know I am avoiding going inside, but I don’t care. My mind sticks on one piece of information, and I turn my body to face him. “So I was like another one of the lost victims and now you know everything about me and my family? That seems a little odd considering everyone knew I was trapped with–” A lump forms in my throat and I can’t seem to find the strength to finish the sentence.

Fuck. Why can’t I just be normal? Fucked up shit happened to me but I didn’t die. I’m still here, yet I can’t seem to articulate a single word regarding it and I feel weak.

Landon clears his throat. “I know it appears that way. And I have no intention of making you feel unsafe—”

My control snaps. “Please stop talking like a robot or like you are wearing kid gloves. I appreciate you being kind, but please just give it to me straight. I have heard nothing but lies for months and I’m fucking tired of people not telling me the whole truth. If you want me to trust you enough to let you go do whatever it is you have to do, talk to me like I am a damn person and not another statistic.”

I instantly regret my last few words as soon as they fly out of my mouth, but I can’t find it in myself to apologize. All I have gotten for days since I contacted Logan is a runaround of what is actually happening, and I’m tired of it. I know I shouldn’t be taking it out on Landon, but he is acting just like the others and, unfortunately, he’s now at the firing end of my anger and frustration.

Landon sinks back into his chair and closes his door. For a moment, my stomach drops and I fear that I may have stepped over the line until his eyes lock with mine. I stare into his deep blue eyes and see understanding, but also that he may be just as uncomfortable with this situation as I am.

“I don’t say this to be an asshole, but please never phrase the victims like that ever again. I understand what you have gone through in the past few months has been fucking awful. And your anger is completely valid and if you need to let off steam, I will sit here and take it. But leave them out of it. Just like I don’t know what you’ve been through, you don’t know what I have witnessed. You don’t know what those victims and so many others have gone through that earned them a spot on that long list of ones that we didn’t get to soon enough.”

Landon pauses and takes a deep breath and I can feel the pain and feeling of self disappointment radiating off his body. He continues, “Statistic is a word simplified by people sitting in an office who didn’t try hard enough to find someone that truly needed their help. I know I am still some random person, but at the end of the day, you don’t know me and I don’t know you. I told you that you can ask me anything when we are done here. And I will always respect your boundaries, but I ask you to respect mine when speaking about them.”

His words wash over me. It shocks me that he isn’t affected by my anger getting the best of me and taking it out on him. He is upset on behalf of the victims he lost and it makes me wonder how deep these brothers go into these cases. Clearly far enough that he has knowledge of my house and the need to check, even if the threat is gone. On top of that, I can’t even imagine all the pain and suffering he has seen if he is coming to the defense of the people that are no longer here.

I want to ask him more, but the look on his face tells me he is sliding his mental walls higher and higher by the second, toprevent himself from going to the place in his mind that houses the memories of the ones he couldn’t save.

The longer I sit in this car and contemplate going inside, it’s only going to make the ache in my chest hurt more. I need to just get it over with so I can file this away in my mind of things I refuse to think about. At least for now. Because I’m not stupid. I know the moment I let myself feel all the things I’ve pushed aside for months, it’s going to cripple me. And right now, if I let it, I don’t think I will survive the wave.

Closing my eyes, I gather my thoughts. Turning to Landon once more, I see his gaze is fixed on the house and his hands are gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles are white.

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