Willow
“What the heck happened?” Doc exclaimed. Having thrown open her front door, she stood in the entrance in her pajamas, squinting into the darkness.
“She’s bleedin’ pretty good,” Joe said, relinquishing his supportive hold on my arm as Doc ushered me inside, seating me beneath a flickering overhead light. Taking my face in hand, she peered closely at my forehead.
“You’re going to need a stitch,” she muttered. “Joe, go grab a towel and press it to the wound—I’ll grab my sewing kit.”
“I’m fine,” I told them, even as my head throbbed.
“I’m fine,” I whispered, even as Doc’s needle pinched my skin.
“I’m fine,” I whimpered, tears slipping free as I crawled into bed beside Britta.
“Hush now, sugar. Just close them eyes. Your mess’ll still be here come mornin’.”
Sleep came in short fitful bursts, ebbing and flowing alongside the swell of sickness that refused to leave me. Each time I closed my eyes, all I could see was Lucas standing at the edge of the dock, pain and betrayal flashing across his face. And every time I opened them, all I could think of was Logan and the haunted look in his eyes as Joe led me, bleeding, from the cabin.
I’d done that—I’d destroyed what little was left of their family.
I left Britta’s bed just before sunrise, the morning twilight not yet visible on the horizon. The grass shimmering with dew, splashed with heavy fog, I flew through camp like a wraith, my bare feet barely skimming the ground. I didn’t know who or what awaited me at the cabin, I only knew that this was my mess, and I had to be there, too.
“Willow.” Lucas stood from the table as I blew through the door, his eyes bloodshot, his chin swollen and mottled with purple and blue. The thud of Logan’s fist crashing against his face echoed and I flinched, shoving the memory away.
“How’s your head?” he asked, touching his own.
I reached for the two sutures at my hairline, flinching as my fingertips grazed them. “It’s… fine,” I said, my words sticking in my throat. “How’s your… face?”
“Fine,” he said.
A beat of silence passed, during which Lucas dropped his gaze and began to fumble with his hands. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I never would have… I mean, it was an accident. I swear it.”
My hand flew to my mouth, as if I might hold back the sob that threatened. “I know that.I know you. I know you’d never hurt anyone, least of all me.”
But even as I said it, the words felt wrong. The old Lucas, yes—he wouldn’t have been capable of hurting someone. This new version—I wasn’t quite so sure about.
“Willow.” Lucas rounded the table, though he didn’t approach me. “What do you think about maybe coming to Everdeen with me? I mean, it’s not as nice as this place, but it could be a fresh start for us.”
A fresh start.The same two words Logan had said to me many months ago. I shook my head, my tears spilling over. Oh god, my heart was breaking. It was literally splitting in two, their names etched upon each piece. Lucas.Logan.The boy I’d loved.The man I loved.
“Last night you said that you and Logan happened because you thought I was dead; well, I’m not dead, am I? I’m right here. We can fix this, Willow. I know we can. We’ll go back to the way things were—me and you against the world, right?” His voice contorted as his eyes implored me.
A single breath left me in a painful puff. His plea was a punch to my already aching chest. “Luke, I don’t think we can.”
“No,I know we can.You were grieving and Logan took advantage of you. This is on him.Wecan work through it.”
“Luke, no, that’s not what happened. He didn’t take advantage of me. He wouldn’t do that.”
Lucas’s lips thinned, his jaw clenching. “Holy shit,” he ground out. “You’re fuckingdefending him, again.” As his voice rose along with his temper, I took a step back, nearly tripping over the shoes stacked against the wall. Blinking down at them, my breath froze in my chest.
They were all mine.
My gaze swung across the room, pausing on the empty space beneath Logan’s bed.
The emergency backpack was gone.
Darting across the room, I yanked Logan’s dresser drawers open, one by one.
Empty.
