Page 28 of Forgiving Fate

Oh, this night may be a long one, but it is going to be fun. And that’s exactly what I need at this moment.

Chapter Twelve

Allie

They weren’t kidding whenthey said the weather in the Pacific North West is dreary and depressing. The sky is one giant gray cloud just waiting to open up and drench the city below it. Not a single sunray shines through and it makes me wonder what is so magical that makes people stay.

This long road trip is hours from coming to an end, and I’m full of mixed emotions. I think I was staying as far as I can in the land of denial for this entire trip. But crossing over the Washington state line, forced me to face one of the many demons knocking at my door.

And that’s the fact that I will not only have to face my best friend, but I will also be living in the home she used as her hideaway from the man that wrecked us both.

To say I was shocked when Landon told me where I will be staying was an understatement. I know it’s stupid, and it’s just a cabin, but it’s not just any old cabin in the woods. It’s the place where my best friend ran away from a maniac, found her peace, fell in love, and conquered her demon.

Now here I am, following in her footsteps, but our reasons couldn’t be more different. She ran here to find solace and a place to fly free. And I’m here to somehow try to find something worth fighting for in this never ending tunnel of darkness. There’s no way for me to seek justice. I don’t have a job. I can’t talk to the one person I have left in this insufferable thing we call life because the facts are simple.

I would not be in this weird state of living if it wasn’t for her. And do I really know her at all? She lied to me throughout our entire friendship. I assume it was to protect me, but maybe if I had known, I could have prepared myself. I could have warned my parents.

I just had to say goodbye to my childhood home and have someone I have known for a minuscule amount of time hire someone to pack up the belongings. Because apsychoon a warpath decided to deliver some sick agenda that included killing the two most important people in my life.

I have gone through every possible explanation why she might have kept this piece of her life hidden and it always comes back to her trying to protect me. Which I admire and appreciate, but I also feel slighted. So the question is: who really is Logan Sawyer and will I ever be able to move on from the pain that was a catalyst of meeting her?

Hopefully, one day I can, because I know deep down her intentions and how amazing of a person she is. But right now, all I see is red and not an ounce of forgiveness insight.

Anger rises in my chest and I feel the urge to scream. I feel the urge to scream in Logan’s face, which is the opposite of what I know I should do. I know if my parents could talk, they would give me the biggest lecture on redirecting my anger. She did not makehimdo this. She did not ask forhimto be in her life. She did not push you into his path in attempts to lethimdestroy you instead of her.

I want to listen to the invisible voices of my parents, but I can’t. No matter how much I try to talk myself into that perfect universe, where I can see the obvious understanding that Logan isn’t the one to blame. I can’t. And the closer we get to Cliff Haven. The anger is growing. And it’s hard to push away any other emotion.

She got her revenge. And from the brief explanation I got, she didn’t escape unscathed or without more scars. But where does that leave me? Where is my revenge? Where is my light at the end of this long, dark tunnel?

I feel my hands clench into fists and it brings me out of my thoughts. I take a few breaths to calm the anger bubbling in my chest and repeat the phrase that I have been for the past few days.

She is not your enemy. She loves you. Mom and Dad love her. She did not do this. He did. You love her.

I repeat the mantra over and over until I feel the anger slowly dissipate. And I beg my mind to try to believe it. Even if it is a tiny ounce. Just try so I don’t completely destroy her when we meet.

I may be changed forever and not give a fuck what people do or think of me anymore, but I know deep down one thing. Just because I am broken doesn’t mean I need to stomp on someone while they are trying to put the pieces of their broken self back together.

I glance at Landon. He is staring straight ahead, his body a little tense, almost robotic. This man has proven to be a complete mystery to me. One minute he is acting like he has a hand up his ass and the next he is somehow understanding what I need without me saying a word. How he is doing so? I have no idea.

Landon may think he is hiding behind his hats and his ability to sit and stare at the winding roads for hours on end withoutsaying a single word, but I can tell he is hiding something. I have no idea what it is, but it’s not something he’s proud of. I can see the moments where his panic rises or something puts his mind in a place where he doesn’t want to be. His hands grip the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white. The veins in his inked neck pop out and his jaw tenses.

I didn’t fully notice until the storm in Kansas turned his world upside down. Before I knew what I was doing, I was helping him. If I didn’t, we were going to crash. And after the panic attack I had on the highway on the way to the airport, a car crash is far from the way I want to leave this miserable world.

Sitting there while he told the story of what he and his brothers do and why was unexpected. I hung on to every word, especially when he spoke about his mom. His voice was calm and even and for the first time, his eyes seemed clear of whatever drags him down every other minute of the day. And for some odd reason, in that moment, I felt an overwhelming sense of something I haven’t felt in so long. Safety with an underlying sense of comfort.

Then that night in Denver. I may not know him well, but being forced to sit all night in a room with a man I just met, while people outside partied until the sun came up gave me a stronger sense that if he was going to hurt me…he would have done it already.

Since that moment, we have spoken a ton, because in the moments where the voices grew too loud, I’d ask him a random question. They ranged from small things like what his brothers do outside of missions, which is the term they use instead of rescues, to asking about his mom. It wasn’t many, but they silenced the voices and seemed to get him out of his head as well.

As the days turned into the next, the fear of him turning on me slowly started fading away.

And now here we are, and it’s all coming to an end. In just a few hours, it will no longer just be me and Landon.

I repeat my mantra a few more times but it’s starting to not help as I see the sign for Seattle. I am just about to ask Landon a random question when Wesley’s name appears on the screen and ringing fills the car.

Landon clicks the button on the steering wheel and steals a brief glance in my direction. “Hello.”

“Where are you?” Wes’s deep vibrato filters through the car and sends a chill up my spine. One thing I have learned over the past week on this road trip is that the Hayes brothers all have very different personalities. And although I have never seen Wesley in person, this man sounds scary as hell.

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