Coming Home

Chapter 38 - Fragile

Through the branches I saw him hang up the phone and slip it into his pocket. I turned my face to Logan, trying to catch his eye and communicate silently with him but he was conveniently ignoring me. I knew more than anything, more than he wanted his next breath, he wanted to run at this man, rip the gun from his hand and turn our situation around. But that would achieve nothing. This man was a murder and I was determined not to become the same thing.

My heart hammered against my ribcage as if I had just been for a ten mile run, the acute pain in my chest made me want to gasp for breath but I couldn't do that. He would hear us, and if he did then we were dead.

It could have taken no longer than five minutes for all of his to play out but it felt like an infinite, endless moment. The stranger appeared to be listening, waiting for us to slip up, to make a sound. Maybe he knew we were nearby, but he finally started to move away, one slow footstep at a time. Logan and I stayed in unmoving even after he had disappeared from view. Just because we couldn't see him didn't mean he wasn't there.

Logan was the first to move. He crawled forward and stood up in one fluid motion. Standing up for me was much less graceful.  I had to unlock my frozen, cramped muscle and pull myself up using the branches of the tree. Logan actually had the nerve to laugh at me. I bit my lip and looked away, trying to see the serious side of this mess but as I did I saw Logan and I as if from afar, hiding in trees to escape a gun-wielding murderer, and I burst out laughing. Maybe it was the adrenaline or the relief that we had seemingly escaped him but I didn't care in that moment. We laughed and laughed as if all was right with the world and this was just a normal day.

But it wasn't. Now that we knew someone was after us it changed things. Someone wanted Logan dead. No matter what excuse I made for this man hunting us I couldn't get away from the facts; the man had a gun and had been sent to find Logan.

This thought sobered my brain and I stopped laughing. "Where do you think he's gone?"

"Probably back to the house. But we can't be sure."

"What can we do now?" To me, our immediate future looked bleak.  

"I think if we keep walking in this direction, we should come to a road. We can catch a bus from there and try to find Geoff and Jack."

"Okay. Let's go."

I lost track of time as we walked. It seemed to be getting darker but that might have just been my imagination, I could have sworn we the forest was never-ending. At last the trees thinned and we came to a road.

"Ah, I know where we are now. Should be a bus stop just down here." Logan set off at a brisk pace, marching down the road and stopping at a lamppost.

"Is this the bus stop?"

"Yeah. It's not much I know but it's all our village needs."

"This is the only bus stop in the village?" He nodded. "No wonder most of you have more than one car. I always thought you all just liked to show off your money but-." He laughed at this.

"Hey, most of the people are elderly and rich but were not all as shallow as you think."

"Will the next bus take us to where Geoff's staying?"

"Every bus that comes through here heads there, it's the only main town for miles so to go anywhere else in the world you have to go via where Geoff's staying."

The bus came after we had been waiting only about ten minutes. Night had fallen now and it must have been about seven o'clock. Logan waved it to a stop and climbed on ahead of me; he spoke to the driver quietly and then continued to the back of the bus. I looked cautiously at the driver as I got on and he gestured at me to follow Logan. I sighed, wishing I could learn to be as persuasive as Logan was. Because it was a night bus, most people were asleep, blinds drawn across the windows to block out the light from street lamps and passing cars. I found Logan at the back of the bus where there were less people.

"What did you say to the driver?"

"Only that I was a really rich and would pay him back later." I laughed. "Cassie, get some rest. We have about two hours until we stop."

Lowering my voice I asked, "Do you think it's safe?" I looked at the other few people on the bus, none of them looked likely to suddenly pull out a gun and kill us, but I wasn't the best judge of character.

"I'll keep an eye out; you just stop worrying, okay?" Nodding, I put my head back against the seat and shut my eyes, letting the soft hum of the engine lull me to sleep.

The bus hit a bump in the road, which jolted me away about an hour later. My head was resting in the crook of Logan's shoulder. AS I sat up I saw he was reclined in his seat, fast asleep. Well, that what any of the other passengers would think. I knew he wasn't really asleep, just resting his eyes. I leaned across him to pull the blind down. Like me, Logan couldn't sleep unless it was completely dark. Or in this case, as dark as possible. As I leaned back into my own seat his eyes came open and he caught my face gently in his warm hand, his thumb brushed back and forth over the bruise on my cheek. Neither of us moved, he stared at me for a long time until, very slowly, he moved forward and pressed his lips to mine. The lightest touch. The smallest gesture. But it almost broke my heart. Because I knew what he was thinking, I could see it in his eyes as clearly as if I were reading his mind.

"You want to leave." It wasn't a question. Logan always seemed to know what I was thinking, what I wanted before I even wanted it. This connection we have isn't always a good thing. I decided to pretend I had no idea what he meant.

"What do you mean?" He just looked silently at me. Turning back to face the seat in front of me so I couldn't see his eyes that saw right through me, I sighed and rubbed at my forehead where  I could feel a headache forming.

"Logan, it's not-."

"It's because I hurt you. You're so delicate, so fragile...it was an accident, Cass. It wouldn't happen again. I promise."

"That's not why I'm leaving Logan. You know it's not. It's best for both of us if we just move on. I see that now. You don't want the same things as me." I paused to turn and look at him. I wanted to face him when I said this; I needed to see his eyes, to make sure he understood how important this was to me. "I want a family, Logan. I want children. I want to step into my house and see toys and books spread across the floor, and hear the laughter of my children as they play together in the garden. It's not too much to ask. You don't want that."

"You have no idea what I want, Cassie."

"If you want that too then why haven't you said so before? Logan, all we do is dance around each other. We have done for years. Neither one of us says what they really feel, what they really want. I can't live like this anymore. I need to have my own home, to have a room to put my clothes and pictures in. I don't have that. Half my stuff is here and half is getting damp in a box under my bed in the flat."

"It doesn't have to be like that, Cassie."

I didn't answer.

We sat for the rest of the journey in an uncomfortable silence.