I’m very tired.
I want to go back to when I was naked in the hallway, Logan’s hands on me, back to when things felt simple and possible. In that moment, everything was simple and easy. I justwantedhim.
I still want him.
I feel safe, his arm around me like this.
But I don’t know what tomorrow will be like. For that matter, I do not know whatnowwill be like. I am lost and confused and homesick. This is the longest I’ve ever been away from my condo, away from all that is familiar.
I feel Logan tense, come to an abrupt halt. “Stay here,” he whispers to me, and helps me lean against the tree.
The light shines from below, bright. I blink, and see Logan standing with his hands in fists at his sides. He is taut, coiled.
I peer into the shadows and see another shape, sitting on the steps to Logan’s brownstone. A familiar shape. Familiar broad shoulders, familiar curve of jawline seen in profile, those cheekbones, that forehead, those lips.
I step forward. “Caleb?”
“Stay there, X.” Logan’s voice is hard as iron. “And you stay right where you are, Caleb. Keep away from her.”
“X. Let’s go.” That voice, deep and dark as a chasm.
I blink, sway on my feet. Logan, in front of me, acting as a human shield between Caleb and me.
Caleb, standing now, hands in pockets.
Two men; one dark, one light.
I want to run, want to climb into this tree and huddle in the nook of the branches.
Caleb takes another step closer to me, Logan blocking the way with his body.
Tension crackles.
Violence is thick in the air.
I cannot breathe, panic welling up within me, as familiar as the wrinkles on the palms of my hands.
I see eyes like midnight shadows, staring at me. Expectant. Knowing.
Seeingme, seeingme.
“It’s time to go home, X.” That voice, implacable, like darkness made flesh, like shadows that curl as sleep stakes its claim, shadows not to fear but rather shadows that lull, shadows that witness dreams and wait through the night until the sunrise.
“You don’t have to go with him, X.” Logan.
“You know where you belong. It’s time to go.” Caleb.
Where I belong? Do I know where I belong?
Caleb strides away. Toward a sleek, low, black car, Len waiting, holding the rear passenger door. Logan swivels to faceme. He is not standing in my way, not preventing me. Nor is he touching me.
Caleb to my left. The condo, what I know. My library. My window.
Logan in front of me. The brownstone, Cocoa. The fantasy of normalcy.
“You are Madame X.” The voice to my left, confident, calm, strong. “And you belong to me. You belongwithme.”
“But you don’thaveto, X.” Logan reaches for me but doesn’t touch me. Not quite. Almost, but not quite. “You don’t have to. Don’t you see that?”
