Page 20 of Ghost Hunted

Well, what’s a few more broken bones anyway?

Lia struggles a lot at first; I guess she’s in pain. I can only imagine how her curls must be slowly ripping themselves out of her skull. That’s got to fucking hurt. Good. My only regret is that I didn’t manage to latch onto something that hurt even more.

I don’t know if it’s pain or fear that causes her to lose consciousness, but she stops moving after a while. I let out a sigh of relief, because now that she’s no longer struggling, it’s easier to keep hold both of her and the side of the cliff.

It’s temporary though. At some point, all her hair is going to rip out, or my fingers will be dislodged. They’re already growing numb.

Maybe I should just… fall. I’m tired, and sick of all of this. I could fall. I probably would if it weren’t for Piper.

The thought of her gives me renewed focus, and I stare at the rugged cliff. I’m about one-fourth of the way down. I could easily climb back to the top, but that would mean using my two hands.

I feel another rip, and I know more of her hair has been pulled out. Forcing my anxiety aside, I position her so that I’m squeezing her upper body between my thighs. It’s terrifying to let go of her hair for a moment so I can get a better grip on her. I manage to hook an arm around her waist and pull her up, then push her over my shoulder. Her body’s limp, and I let out a shuddering sigh when I feel the full weight of it against me.

Now, I need to save us both.

Gritting my teeth, I pull myself up, searching for ridges where I can get a good hold. I’ve gone rock climbing in the past, but it’s a different matter when you’re climbing with a dead weight on your shoulders and the knowledge that at any moment, you could go tumbling down the cliff.

I groan with relief when we reach solid ground. Those last few inches were the hardest ones. I’m horribly sore, and knowing I was just inches away from safety made the danger that much starker.

At last, though, I lie gasping on the rocky, grassy surface beside her. She’s still unconscious, and I take advantage of that to brush a kiss on her lips. There’s just no way I’ll be able to kiss her when she’s awake.

But she comes to as soon as my lips touch hers.

Fuck.

“L-logan?”

I draw myself up to a sitting position, trying to get my distance again. But I just saved her life and then kissed her. That distance is nothing but a lie now. I stare at the gun lying a little further in the grass. I was so determined to use it, just a little while ago, but then she jumped and…

I’m a fucking masochist, that’s what I am.

“Logan…” She brings a hand up to her skull, with its new patches of baldness. “My head… hurts.”

Manipulative. Selfish. Heartless.

“I don’t really care, Lia.”

Her eyes flutter fully open, and she stares at me as if she’s seeing me for the first time. Maybe she wasn’t fully awake before; maybe that’s why she complained about a little pain on her head when anyone can see that my heart is in tatters.

“Logan, I…”

“It doesn’t matter, Lia. I don’t care.” It’s strange, hearing how cold and flat my voice is. Just as cold and flat as I feel. “I won’t kill you; I don’t care enough to make you believe I’ll kill you anymore. You’ll live, it’s fine. I don’t care.”

She looks crestfallen, but it does nothing to me. Maybe the words I’m speaking are true. Maybe I’m just tired. Sick of this bullshit.

Maybe now is the time I finally keep that promise I made, all those years ago.

I’ll move on.

“Logan…”

“Please stop talking, Lia.”

She reaches a hand out to touch me, but I inch back, and her fingers find nothing but air. I stand up and start walking slowly, hating myself for the way I’m listening to make sure she follows me.

I lead the way back to the stone cottage, wondering if this is the place she’s been hiding out in all these years. I spend all my time wondering that, so I don’t ask myself the real question.

Why?