I glance to the heap of rubble across the street with a plume of smoke swimming toward the sky as the forklift gathers the debris and tosses it into the open mouth of a dumpster as long and as wide as a house. I can’t help but wonder if it’s all just some metaphor of who we will become and where we find ourselves in theend.
* * *
Late in the night,long after Skyla and Gage take off, I pace the floors of my bedroom like a death row prisoner next in line. Every now and again, I give a nervous glance out the window just to make sure the bowling alley is indeed still gone, that it hasn’t resurrected itself like some macabre nightmare. Nevertheless, I feel it there, taunting me, sayingyou can’t get rid of me as easily as you think. I’ve never thought of the bowling alley as some nefarious entity, more like a reminder that I’m not particularly good at any one thing. And here I’ve set out to spend a hell of a lot of good Harrison dollars to explode onto the business scene like some sort of entrepreneurial whiz. It’s laughable, achingly tragic, and it stirs a grief in the pit of my soul that I never knewexisted.
I head back to bed as Wesley Parker,Paxton, fucking hellish Edinger takes over my mind. Skyla was right. His need—his obsession to be near Laken is insatiable. And that right there is something I can commiserate with him on. I feel the very same way, only it’s not Laken that has this dead man’s blood pumping, my lungs struggling for their next breath in any way that God wants to give it to me. It’s Skyla. It’s always been Skyla. And, unfortunately for me, she is the only one who can take away this horrible pain. Yes, I will finally admit it. I am very much grieving the loss of Paragon’s one and only mediocre bowling alley, my old friend, the very extension of my father and all of his love for me. It was his wish that I have it. His provision and shelter forme.
Wesley cured his pain for Laken by having Ezrina whip up another version, by going back in time and laying his hands on the very version he so desires. His obsession knows no bounds. His pain from losing her forced his hand. He was desperate and in need and did the only thing he could think of to quell it, to make life a little more bearable. He didn’t hurt anyone, not really. Did he? Ezrina wouldn’t force anyone to take on Laken’s likeness. Wesley didn’t force himself on Laken when he went back in time. Coop said so himself. Wes simply found a way. Not the best way. But a waynonetheless.
A thought comes to me, and I give a depleted nod as if accepting all of the lunacy. After all, every last one of my sins is forgiven, even the ones I have yet tocommit.
My feet land on the cold hardwood floor as I stride toward the dark walk-in closet built extra-large just for Skyla’s needs—her coats, her clothes, her private things, the shoes that adorn her beautiful feet, and I keep walking. I walk through the empty space, the walls, through time and space, and straight into the past, straight back to that blessed night of our honeymoon. Not the first night. That was an exercise in exhaustion, though exhilarating, it was never-ending and rightly so. I go for the next night, where I know for a fact there is a lull in the action, and for a brief, blissful moment in time, we are tangled in one another’s arms. That’s all I need right now, all I reallycrave.
And just as easy as crossing a continent, here I am, lurking in the corridor that leads to the restroom as the commotion on the bed slows to a crawl. I wait until the dismount. I have no intention on crawling inside my body while my most prominent member is still buried deep inside her. And there Igo.
I head over, the ghost that I’ve become, and fall perfectly into my form. My own spirit eases over my body like a glove, and I take one rushed breath after the other in appreciation of the cardio we just underwent. Yes, I waited until all of the fun was through before crawling into my skin and into that bed with Skyla. I don’t want to step on Gage Oliver’s parade. I’m not Wesley. I’m not rewinding time like a porn reel I get the privilege of reliving over andover.
Skyla folds her arms over my body with a warm embrace, skin on skin, and it feelselectrifying.
Her arms pull me in, and I don’t fight it. Her naked, damp skin adheres to mine, sticky and wet. Her heavy breathing matching myown.
Her body bucks a moment, and she takes a deep, cleansing breath as if she too just popped back into her body from some other timescape.
“Hello,” she says it breathless, her eyes glinting in the shard of moonlight—hell, most likely early morning light falling across her face. “I know who youare.”
My eyes widen a moment. Those aren’t words that I remember from that fated night. “You do?” A wry smile builds on my face as her tits press hard against mychest.
“Yes, Logan”—Skyla strokes my hair back, and the act alone cools me—“you confessed this to me. You came back because you needed me to hold you. Just for one night.” Her voice grows weak as shespeaks.
“Shit.” I lean my head in the pillow. “Wait a minute. I would never tell you that.” My body freezes because I’m suddenly fearful over the thought that I may not be in bed with Skyla, not the one I rememberanyway.
“It’s me.” She pulls back and offers my chest a light tap. “I’m visiting, too.” Her finger presses hard to her lips a moment as if to stop the reprimand before it ever begins. “You didn’t have to confess anything to me. You’ll eventually tell me yourself when the time is right on Paragon.” A lone tear rolls down her cheek. “Logan.” Her voice breaks. “I’m in pain.” Her eyes close as the light catches all of the agony written on her face. “I just needed you to hold me, too.” Her limbs latch over mine as she weeps silently against me. But her mind remains stealthily sealed off, unattainable to me no matter how hard I try to read it. No, Skyla is shielding me, protecting me from some horrible truth. So horrible she left the confines of her husband’s arms to be here with me on this night of allnights.
We spend the next few hours lost in this dreamlike state, grieving, holding on tight, never wanting to letgo.
“I love you, Logan,” she whispers it heated over my chest, and my eyes close to those perfectwords.
Sometimes all you want in the world is to be held by the one youlove.
I fall asleep to the tune of our beautiful beatinghearts.
But something horrible has happened for her to be here. It musthave.
And Iwonder.
5
This Enemy of Mine
Skyla
The week blowsby like wind racing across the face of Devil’s Peak, alarmingly quick and bitter. Of course, Wesley has proven impossible to locate, thus postponing his ass whipping from Cooper. And Laken is determined to initiate one herself. On the Landon front, Mom and Tad have the food in the house sealed in plastic bags while emptying the fridge into a moldy cooler. The big day has arrived in which we pump this entire oversized cabin with nerve gas and expect to return in three days as if nothing everhappened.
All I can think about is the delicate nervous systems of my two beautiful boys. If anything unfortunate should happen to them as a result of all those toxic fumes being delivered straight into our sleeping quarters, I will never be able to forgive myself. The boys are everything to me. It’s as if life never really existed before they arrived. It’s their smiles, their deep husky laughter that warms me to the bone. They’ll be five months old tomorrow, and already they can sit up on their own, albeit while doing their best Weeble Wobble impressions. Okay, so they’re not quite stable, but they’re getting close. But my mother has assured me they are well on track as far as development goes. Emma agrees and takes it a step further by adding,especially for twins, as if the fact they arrived in duplicate had somehow lessened the odds of their developmental success. But, nevertheless, she seems impressed with the two little geniuses—and that, right there, is something we can both agreeon.
Gage comes in panting after loading the minivan to the hilt, and I hand him Barron, already winded myself. I’ve got my Host sweatshirt on, and my hair in a ponytail, all ready to go on this, our quasi-official movingday.
“Let’s say goodbye to everyone.” I rebalance Nathan in my arms as we head to the family room. It feels good like this with my husband by my side, our family pieced back together again. All of that horror with the bowling alley has unsettled me. It underscores the fact that yes, things can and will change. Things that I believed were set in stone for eternity were only here for a short season—the bowling alley, much like Loganhimself.
