Loveland Vol.2

Chapter 2 cont...

Autumn

I couldn't understand what the hell was wrong with him. Lately he'd been acting strange, sure but this was too much, I thought to myself as I walked out of the club that night. We had only been there for an hour and it was over. 

I can't believe him. s*x with Logan has always been incredible, perfect. It was the way we connected. No matter if we were having an argument or a stressful day, we could come together and the world would be right again. But what had just occured in that bathroom wasn't s*x. It was violence. Which was something I didn't understand. Not from Logan. 

 As I stomped through the crowd of people, past my friends and out the door I decided that I would let Logan explain to everyone why we were leaving. But instead of being a man about it, he simply said, " Autumn is sick." 

Beth Anne didn't buy that for a second, neither did my sister. But we all sat in silence on the hour long drive home. I noticed Beth and Melissa giving each other looks from across the crowded suv. Neither of them spoke. I looked at Ray, who was usually joking about something, tonight he was stone silent. Sending nasty glares towards Logan. There's no way he could have known, but it looked as though he knew something. 

Once at home, Logan walked ahead of me. Not saying a word or even looking at me, he walked into the dark house and headed straight for the kitchen. Not even bothering to turn on any lights he found his bottle of whiskey in the cabinet. He held it by the neck walking towards the back door. Obviously he planned on drinking the whole bottle, as he didn't get a glass. 

Before he walked away from me I tried to talk to him. 

"Logan. We need to talk about what happened tonight. Honey I don't know what's going on with you. Mainly because you won't tell me. But what you did-" I was then cut off by his sudden sharp tone.

"Nothing is wrong with me! Your making something out of nothing. Usually you like it rough. Sorry if I didn't know you had suddenly changed your mind." He wasn't looking at me as he spoke. I couldn't believe he was saying these things to me. I don't think he believed it either. 

 " Logan, that's horse s**t and you know it. What happened wasn't right. And to be honest I don't really like the way your handling it." He seemed to laugh in his throat at my words. Twisting the top off the whiskey bottle, he took a huge swig. 

"I think I'm handling things just fine." He said as he walked to the back door. He swung it open as I said, " your just gonna sit and drink all night. Is that a good idea?" Before he walked out the door he turned to me. I had half hoped he would come back in and apologize. 

"It's the best idea Ive had in months." With that he slammed the door shut in my face. 

Over the next few days logan remained the same. His mood only getting worse as time went on. He even started sleeping in the spare bedroom, so that he would have as little contact with me as possible. I hated this. Sleeping alone had been my life for the last 8 years of mine and Paul's marriage. But with Logan it was different. Not sleeping together, not being near each other literally made me feel sick. Empty. I stood at my kitchen sink, looking out the window at Machaela and Aiden playing with Beth and Rays boys. Thankfully they had been mostly oblivious to what's been going on. Well almost. Aiden had a sense for these things. That cake from growing up around his father. Every so often he would give me reassuring smiles and hugs out of nowhere, all because he knew something was wrong. Oh my son. Always the gentleman. 

Mac on the other hand was trying her best to remain positive. She knew her dad probably better than most. If there was a problem, she would know. But she remained silent about it. Until it got bad that is...

Logan

Sleep. What was once something's that came so easily to me, now seemed like a fantasy. I hadn't slept but a few hours in the last 4 days. Ever since that night. I did my best to avoid Autumn. I knew she would want to talk, and I knew that I didn't. 

  Sitting in my garage pretending to tinker with an old engine, my brain kept wandering. It would go in and out of the present, drifting back. "All the way back" I heard Ryan say in my head. That night at FEVER was terrible. The marks on Autumns neck had finally started to disappear. But the hatred I had for myself didn't. As the radio on the shelf behind me played music from an oldies station, my mind escaped again. Taking me back. I could see the room. It was stark. Barely any furniture. One window hung high on the wall letting in bright white light. It was warm, but the air felt cold around me. I can hear a faint tick, tick, tick, of what could have been a clock. Then a voice. 

"Logan. Can you hear me? If you can hear me lift your right hand." I knew I was day dreaming somehow, but without trying my right arm began to lift into the air. Just then I heard another small voice very close by. 

"Dad? Dad!?" I heard the voice yelling at me now. My eyes napped open and the tool in my hand fell to the floor with a loud bang, causing me to jump back into reality. I looked down and saw Mac. She was trying to talk to me about something. 

"Dad my basketball game is tomorrow night. Are you gonna come?" Her big round eyes looked up at me, all I wanted to do was wrap her in a hug and tell her I love her. But my body and mind betrayed me. A chill went up my spine that set my teeth on edge. Before I could stop myself, I pushed Machaela out of the way. She looked confused and hurt but she asked again, "Dad? Can you come or not? Are you okay?" With that I snapped. 

"Jesus Christ, Mac! Stop bugging me with all these questions! CANT YOU SEE IM BUSY!? OPEN YOUR EYES!!!" As the words poured out of my mouth I immediately regretted them. Tears began to flood out of my little girls eyes. She threw her basketball at me hitting me in the stomach. I watched her run out of the old garage and into Autumns arms. She was standing on the back porch and had saw the entire thing. I saw the pain and anger in her eyes. I knew I was losing it. I was f*****g up left and right. I pressed my palms into my tired eyes. "WHAT THE f**k IS WRONG WITH ME!?" 

open your eyes. I could remember saying the words. But 6 minutes later I had no idea why. I needed to get some help.