The Blood That Binds by Madeline Sheehan
Logan
Both body and mind balked at the events unfolding before me—Willow and Lucas reunited, in each other’s arms once again.
Jesus Christ. No matter how much I’d prepared myself for this exact moment over the last few days, nothing could have truly prepared me for how I would feel watching it play out in real time.
It was excruciating. It was enough to send someone straight into madness. To make someone do something they’d definitely regret. It was enough to make me wonder if I might understand my father, and what he’d done, far better than ever before. Because the thought of losing Willow to my brother had turned my mind to a very dark place.
“I still can’t believe it,” Lucas said, pressing a kiss to the top of Willow’s head, and another to her forehead. “We’re all alive. We’re all together again.”
Crazy was the least of it. Sheer fucking insanity better described the events over the last week and a half. From the moment we’d arrived at Everdeen, straight through till now, I’d been existing inside some sort of hellish psychosis—trapped somewhere between the joy of finding my brother alive… and wishing he would have stayed dead.
“And look at this place—curtains and carpets. Paintings on the wall.” Lucas gestured to the wall of paintings Willow had salvaged. “It’s so homey. Who decorated? You, Willow?”
As they continued to embrace, I was tracking his hands—one hand was ruffling through her hair while the other toyed with the fraying pocket on the back of her jeans. A wave of heat rose in my throat. Mine—the lone word pounded through me like a battering ram, despite knowing better. Willow wasn’t mine; she never had been. Willow had always belonged to Lucas, and vice versa.
Even knowing that, I still wanted to break his fingers. Every. Single. Fucking. One.
I shot out of my seat, stalking toward the door. I had to get out of there, away from them, before I imploded. “I’m hungry,” I bit out. “I’m going to grab something from the dining hall.”
“Wait up,” Lucas said. “Why don’t we all go? I’m starving—Willow, you hungry?”
Willow, who’d untangled herself from Lucas, was glancing awkwardly between us. “I guess so,” she mumbled.
“Great,” I muttered miserably. “Let’s all go.”
All eyes were on us as we entered the dining hall, the din of noise dropping as everyone turned in their seats to stare.
Lucas was oblivious; he was still reeling from seeing Willow again and marveling over all the make-do machinery in camp. Meanwhile, all the unwanted attention had caused Willow to pale. Her steps unsteady, she looked as if she might pass out at any second. I fought the urge to grab her—I’d been fighting that urge since the moment I’d seen her. To grab her and kiss her and tell her how fucking sorry I was for leaving her—a decision I’d regretted since finding Lucas alive.
“You’ll have to forgive everyone, Lucas,” Leisel announced, standing from her seat. “We’re not usually so rude.”
“Please, join us,” she continued, gesturing to the empty seats at her table. “And let me formally welcome you to Silver Lake. I know that I speak for everyone here when I say that we’re so happy you’ve been reunited with Logan and Willow. I know I’d give anything to find someone I loved alive and well, as would anyone else here.” Sending a pointed look around the room, curious expressions instantly shifted to somber nods of agreement and individual conversations quickly resumed.
“This place is great,” Lucas said around a mouthful of food—a vegetable stew that I hadn’t touched. “Ant told me there was another camp but he never mentioned how good you guys have it. Everdeen is still using outhouses.” Shoveling another spoonful of stew into his mouth, he said. “And after what that horde did…”
Our group had reached Everdeen with more than enough time to help evacuate the small community; however, we weren’t able to prevent the dead from trampling through it, leaving a considerable amount of damage in their wake.
“Of course, we’ll be helping in whatever way we can,” Joshua murmured. “I’ve already spoken to Marcus—we’ll be sending our next trading party with as many supplies as we can spare—free of charge.”
“That’s awesome,” Lucas said, nodding. “Maybe I’ll go back and help—you could come, Willow. And meet everyone.”
Willow and I glanced up at the same time. The thought of her leaving… the thought that I might never see her again… I felt instantly sick.
“Oh, um, yeah. That would be… great.” Willow resumed poking at her stew, not actually eating any of it. I found myself scrutinizing her, noting the weight she’d lost since I’d left.
“You should eat something,” I growled softly.
Willow’s eyes widened in my direction before blinking back to her plate. “I’m just not very hungry,” she mumbled.
“You’re not eating, again,” I accused, just a little too loudly, and a little too angrily, drawing the attention of everyone in earshot. Again Willow’s eyes shot to mine, wide and full of accusation, and I cursed inwardly, biting down on the inside of my lip. I hadn’t meant to scold her.
“I think she looks great,” Lucas said, smiling at Willow. “And I’m glad to see some things never change.” Looking to Leisel, he chuckled. “They’re always fighting, right? I can’t even remember a time when they didn’t.”
To her credit, Leisel’s expression gave nothing away. Smiling and nodding, she said, “They’ve definitely had their share of disagreements.”
“I can’t even imagine what it was like without me to play referee. These two fight about everything—they literally invent stuff to fight about!” Laughing heartily, Lucas grabbed hold of one of Willow’s hands, threading his fingers through hers and tucking their joined hands in his lap while I fought back a surge of envy and rage so potent I was temporarily breathless.
Uncomfortable laughter tittered around the table; even Willow was forcing a smile. I couldn’t seem to do anything but sit frozen in my seat and try not to throw my plate of food across the room.
Still smiling, Leisel placed her hand on Joshua’s arm. “Did I hear you mention that it might rain tonight—maybe Logan could help you hang the tarps over the unfinished cabins?”
I stared at Leisel, stone-faced. There wasn’t a single person at this table that thought it might rain tonight. Most people hadn’t survived this long without forming an up close and personal relationship with Mother Nature.
Joshua coughed into his hand. “You know what, I think that’s a good idea—Logan, would you mind giving me a hand?”
“Happy to,” I bit out. Leaving my untouched food, I was out of my seat and across the room before Joshua had even stood. Outside, I didn’t bother waiting for him, seeing as there wasn’t actually any rain to be concerned about. Forgoing the path, I cut straight through the grass center of camp, headed toward the water.
Marching myself across the rocky beach and onto the boat dock, I folded my arm across my chest and peered into the water beyond, watching it ripple softly toward the shore, gently rocking the docked boats in time with the waves… leaving me wondering how long it would be before Lucas was gently rocking inside of Willow.
Violent, ugly things welled up inside me; slapping the palms of my hands over my eyes, I spun away from the water with an angry growl.
“Hey, watch it!”
Dropping my hands, I found Ella stumbling backward over the dock. Holding her flask in hand, there was wet splashed over the front of her shirt.
“Sorry,” I muttered, backing away.
“Oh, it’s you,” she slurred. “I guess I can forgive you, what with your brother coming back from the dead and taking his girlfriend back an’ all.” She let out a nasty laugh. “I mean, I’m assuming they’re back together, right—that’s what that big, ridiculous scene at the gate was all about? And that’s why you’re out here pouting?”
I went still, scowling at her. “Do you ever think about not speaking, and maybe shutting the fuck up for once?”
“Nope,” she said, shrugging as she staggered. “Hey—you want some?” She shook her flask at me. “You look like you need it.”
I stared at the flask, swallowing hard. At this point, what did it matter? What else did I have to lose? I’d already lost the only good thing I’d ever had—the only person who’d ever made me feel… somewhat normal.
“You know what—fuck it.” Snatching the flask from her hand, I brought it to my mouth. As the liquor burned a hot path down my throat, leaving me sputtering and coughing. Ella started to laugh. “Aw, Logan’s a lightweight,” she mocked in a singsong voice.
Glaring at her, I proceeded to down the remaining liquid, breathing fire through my next several breaths. It hit me quickly—a warm rush down the center of me that left me wanting more. I shook the empty flask. “Where’s the rest?”
Ella’s lips split into an impish smile as her fingers beckoned me. “Follow me.”
“He’s my… brother,” I muttered. “Of course I love him.”
Seated around a small metal folding table inside Ella’s cabin, Ell and I passed a half empty bottle of scotch between us.
“But you love Willow more, right?” Slumping forward, Ella drunkenly wagged her finger at me. “It’ssss okay, you can tell me. I will not tell a single, solitary person.”
I tried to glare at her, managing only more or less a blurry-eyed squint. “I’m not telling… you… jack… fucking… shit.”
“I knew these guys who were like brothers,” she said, grabbing hold of the bottle and slouching back in her seat. “Oliver and Anthony…” Taking a swig of scotch, she continued. “Oli and Ant…” She took another swig. “I loved Oli and Ant loved me and everything got… messy. Hey, that rhymed.” Snorting, Ella continued to drink until scotch was dribbling down her chin.
“Ant?” I frowned at her. “Ant… from Everdeen?” I’d spoken to Lucas’s new friend only long enough to thank him for helping my brother. We’d been otherwise occupied evacuating their camp after that.
“That’ssss him,” Ella said, again pointing her finger at me. “Dark eyes, dark hair, kinda looks like a bargain-basement Jason Momoa. You should stay away from him—he’s a bad guy.”
“Huh.” I leaned back in my chair, gazing up at the ceiling, feeling warm and numb and without a care in the world. No wonder my father loved to drink—a couple of swigs and you could forget how to feel.
Feeling a weight drop down over my legs, I startled upright. Ella was straddling my lap, pressing the bottle to my lips. “Drink up,” she laughed, pouring aimlessly and spilling it down the front of my shirt. “Oopsy-daisy.”
Grabbing the bottle from her, I leaned my head back, taking a long swallow while Ella began wriggling on top of me. “Stop,” I growled, grabbing her hip and holding her still.
“Why?” She giggled, grinding herself over my growing erection. “There’s no more girlfriend to worry about, right? And you obviously like it.”
I did like it… sort of. In my warm, numbed state of existence, it certainly felt good. Only, the more aroused my body grew, the more my thoughts turned to Willow. Willow and… Lucas. Cursing, I resumed drinking until Ella snatched the bottle away and began guzzling what was left. Coughing through her laughter, she sent the empty bottle rolling across the table. “And that’s the last of the good stuff.” She turned back to me. “Now where were we?”
Bleary-eyed and feeling sluggish, I blinked at her as her mouth came crashing against mine, kissing me with cold, thin lips that felt nothing like Willow’s. She continued to rock over my lap as her hands slipped beneath my shirt.
“Mmmm,” she moaned. “You’re as hard as you look.”
Batting her hands away, I turned from her mouth. “Get off me,” I muttered.
Still laughing, Ella kissed me again, this time reaching for my belt.
“Get the fuck off!” I shouted, a sliver of clarity sending me shoving to my feet. Ella hit the floor hard, sprawling backward in a laughing heap while I staggered forward, clutching at furniture.
Blindly pushing past her door, I broke into a run, zigzagging drunkenly through the moonlit camp. Sickness swelling in my gut, I sagged against the nearest tree, collapsing at the base of it, heaving until I’d emptied my stomach onto the grass.
Leaning back against the tree, I dragged a shaking hand across my mouth and squinted out across the spinning landscape. Whereas earlier, I’d felt warm and numb—now I only felt desolate. Desolate and desperate to see Willow. To know what she was doing right this second.
Pushing myself up off theground, I stumbled off in the direction of home. Passing one of the water pumps, I filled my hands and took long gulps to clear the taste of vomit from my mouth before taking off, stumbling once again. Reaching the cabin, I staggered noisily through the door.
The small lamp between bunk beds glowed in the darkness, highlighting the cozy scene on Willow’s bed—Lucas sprawled on his back with Willow nestled against his side. Seeing them like this—cuddled together as if nothing had changed, as if Willow and I had never happened—felt ten times worse than I’d thought it would. Yet another blow to my already battered soul.
While I stood there swaying in the center of the cabin, wishing it was me in bed beside her, Willow’s eyes opened. Lifting her head up, her mouth began to move, her lips forming silent words I couldn’t make out. Frowning, I shook my head, creeping closer until the floor creaked loudly beneath my feet. I went still as Lucas shifted in his sleep, tightening his grip around Willow and pulling her closer to him.
Pulling her farther from me.
Everything went black—as black as the dark, terrible part of me that wished Lucas had stayed dead.
I ran from them, from the cabin and from the violent feelings churning within me. I didn’t have a clue where I was going; I only knew that I needed to put as much space as possible between me and my brother, and the woman we both loved.