Some Kind of Hell Read online

  At my lips he lingered. His fingers came to a stop, but they didn’t move. His hand gripped me between my legs. It was like a commanding sign that he now had me.

  “Logan.” It was all I could say.

  “You don’t need to say a thing,” Logan said.

  His lips touched mine, gently, almost fluttering.

  His hand was gone and he rolled to his side. I was left a hot mess for a few minutes, the room spinning from the vodka and the orgasm. I sat up and fixed my bra, wishing it was Logan’s hands holding my chest tight and not some garment I bought at the mall. I fixed my jeans but knew there would be no real comfort there until everything dried. Even then… the wild mess…

  I put my head back to the pillow and turned to face Logan. I stared at the back of his head and body. I touched his shoulder with the very tips of my fingers. His shoulder moved for a second and that was it.

  My eyes grew heavy and I tried to fight it off.

  I didn’t want the night - or morning, or whatever the hell it really was by then - to end. It was the first time I felt truly alive in a long time.

  More than Logan could understand.

  7

  I woke to the sound of beeping.

  It was so freaking annoying that I put my head under the pillow and moaned. I hadn’t opened my eyes yet and my head felt like I had hit a brick wall.

  The beeping continued and I thought maybe I had set the alarm on my phone and it was going off. I’m sure it would have stopped in a minute if my head could have handled a minute. As far the pounding in my head was concerned, the beeping had been going on for hours, maybe days.

  I finally reached for the sound and found my phone on the floor.

  The beeping wasn’t a voicemail or text message, it was a reminder.

  On my calendar.

  The screen flashed as it beeped, reminding me that today I’d find out about my grandfather. I promised myself I’d call him to check on him and keep his spirits high. He was so close to finding out if he still had cancer. I hated not being there with him and for him, but he was the one who didn’t want me there, sitting around with him. I understood what he wanted, but I promised him that I would bother him all the time.

  I pressed the button on my phone to get the calendar to stop beeping.

  “What the hell was that?” a groggy voice asked.

  I froze, the night rushing back to me in the matter of a second. Not that I had actually forgotten about the night before. Thinking about Logan and his hands all over me made it that much more real.

  “Reminder,” I whispered as I rolled towards him. “I have to call my grandfather today.”

  “I hope he’s good,” Logan said.

  “He will be,” I said. “He’s tough.”

  Logan blinked a few times, the sleep leaving his body. “Was he important to you?”

  “Very,” I said.

  I didn’t want to get into the details of my own childhood, but I knew if anyone would understand it, it would be Logan.

  He nodded.

  He touched my cheek and moved the wild strands of hair out of my face and tucked them behind my ear.

  “How do you feel?” he asked.

  “Like hell,” I admitted. “Totally worth it though.”

  “Whatever,” Logan said and smiled.

  I shook the bed and moved closer to him. “Shut up, Logan.”

  He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me on top of him. Everything in my body reacted. His hands were just below my breasts, almost tickling me at my ribs as he positioned me over him.

  “Thanks for staying last night.”

  “I didn’t have a choice,” I said.

  “I told you we’d cuddle.”

  “I didn’t know what cuddling meant to you.”

  “I’m a rockstar, what did you think I’d do?”

  The flicker in his eyes and the way his smile grew gave my heart a little life. I wanted to literally spend the entire day in bed with Logan, but my stomach started to growl. I needed water, coffee, and food. In that order.

  And fast.

  “I guess we should find the rest of the guys and girls,” Logan said.

  I didn’t want to agree with him and while I never technically did agree with him, an hour later I found myself full of food, with a pounding headache, and running towards the bathroom of the apartment with Maggie behind me begging to go pee before I took a much needed shower.

  I let her go first and then I showered, taking my time, not only trying to relieve my killer headache but I spent most of the time looking at myself, imagining where Logan had touched.

  After the shower, I sat on my bed in a towel, my hair wet and falling wherever it wanted. My phone sat next to me. Part of me seriously wanted to look at yesterday’s date. Just to remember all that had happened. I ended up at a DownCrash show, backstage, then the band’s practice garage, and finally, in bed with Logan.

  Just like that.

  Without planning it.

  I dressed myself in something comfortable and casual, then went to my wall. In a move that would rock the world - or not - I grabbed the calendars off my wall and threw them to the bed.

  A second later, I heard the faked shriek of Maggie’s voice.

  I was caught.

  “Don’t say a word,” I said.

  Maggie shook her head. “One night with Logan and look at you.”

  “Cut it,” I said.

  Maggie backed away and left. I didn’t see her for almost a full day.

  I had work that night, a shift that was way too busy for the lingering hangover and torn feelings I had for Logan. But I managed and got home just before one in the morning with enough in tips to pay the bills for the month.

  A total score for me.

  As I crashed to my bed, I grabbed my phone, like I usually did before falling sleep. Usually I would check the date, the time, think about life - fine, I would think about Jared and wonder if he was in our old bed with his pregnant girl - and then sleep. But that night, I looked at my phone, thinking about Logan.

  The next morning I woke to the smell of coffee and the sound of Maggie talking. She talked loud when she was nervous or excited. I sat up and took a deep breath. I stretched what felt like every muscle in body, and finally felt good.

  Back to normal.

  I threw the covers off my legs and looked at the wall where the calendars used to be. It felt good not to care so much about time and what had happened.

  Or what hadn’t happened…

  That was my first thought when a wave of terror struck me.

  I forgot to call my grandfather the day before.

  I stumbled to my phone and my hands shook as I opened the calendar.

  Right there, yesterday, was the little note. The note telling me to call him. The note I would have seen if I had looked a hundred times like I usually did.

  Maggie knocked on the inside of my wall and said, “Good morning! I have to tal-”

  “I forgot to call my grandfather!” I cried out. “Yesterday. I told him I would.”

  “Calm down,” Maggie said. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

  “How do you know?” I asked. “Did you talk to him?”

  “Whoa,” Maggie said. “First, you need coffee. Then, you need to call him. And after that, I need to talk to you.”

  Maggie put her hands up and slowly backed away.

  I opened my mouth to apologize for being so crazy, but I didn’t say a thing. My own guilt bothered me. Maggie disappeared into her room as I had a sip of coffee. I dialed my grandfather, knowing he’d be awake. By ten in the morning he would have been awake for at least five hours.

  I waited as the phone rang.

  I hated waiting.

  I feared the worst.

  He wasn’t there.

  He was at the hospital.

  There was an emergency and nobody called me.

  “Hello?” his voice boomed.

  I sighed and smiled.

  “Grandpa!”
I yelled. “How are you?”

  “Ah, there she is,” he said. “My Annie Girl.”

  “I’m so sorry I forgot to call you yesterday.”

  “Yesterday? What was yesterday?”

  “I said…”

  “Was it my birthday?” my grandfather asked.

  “No,” I said.

  “Was it Father’s Day?”

  “No.”

  “How about Christmas?”

  “No…”

  “Then nothing to be sorry about.”

  It filled me with warmth. My grandfather always had a way to make the worst moments seem okay, that life would move forward, no matter what. It was powerful to think about at a young age but beautiful to love through as his age.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked.

  “I’m good,” he said, forcing his voice to go high to sound normal.

  The reality was that his voice was weak. Tired. Worn out.

  It was all part of the ordeal, that’s what my mother told me. She was his caretaker and I was glad she had someone there with her in the house I didn’t think she’d ever recover when my father left her - and me.

  “Don’t lie to me,” I said. “I can hear your voice.”

  “I slept in,” my grandfather said.

  That bothered me more than if he had just said he wasn’t feeling well and was tired.

  “You never sleep in.”

  “I do once in a while,” he said. “Are you happy, Annie?”

  The question was loaded and caught me off guard. It stole my breath for a second. I couldn’t lie to my grandfather. Ever.

  My silence began to give the answer I feared I’d have to give.

  “You know,” he said, “you don’t have to worry about me.”

  “Is that so?” I asked.

  “Yeah. I’m fine, Annie, just fine.”

  “You’re not fine. You had or still have cancer.”

  “I got a call yesterday, Annie,” my grandfather said. His tone was smooth and calm, the voice he used when leading into a story. “A friend of mine, Jerry, who I used to see and talk to at the gym all the time died yesterday. Just… just like that. Dead.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “That’s hard.”

  “No. That’s life. Annie, you’re young. You have the world staring at you and it’s endless. So many things to do. So many people to meet. Chances to fall in love, get hurt, do it all over again. At my age, it’s not like that at all. The world is smaller to me, confined to those I love because someday - hopefully not soon - I won’t see everyone again. It can be cancer that does it or it can be a heart attack, just like Jerry.”

  I didn’t need to reply. I understood what he meant. How precious life was to him and how he didn’t fear death. Not for a second. My mother and I were the ones crying like fools when we found out about his cancer. But not him. He stood strong and while he didn’t have the forced confidence to say he was going to destroy it, he wasn’t afraid to acknowledge it had the power to take him away.

  “I love you, grandpa,” I said. “I needed to talk to you. For me.”

  “Okay,” he said. “Okay. I sure hope you find something you want soon. You can’t hide and be afraid. I believe that it all somehow comes together. Usually when you least expect it.”

  Our conversation shifted from the depressing side of life to other things. He talked about the weather, acting as if I was a continent away. When he talked about rain, I had to laugh because we got the same rain he did. The same with the temperature and even some of the news around us. But it was just good to hear his voice.

  When I got off the phone, I felt a little better.

  I went to find Maggie and knocked on her door.

  “I’m here to beg for forgiveness,” I said.

  The door opened and Maggie stood trying to look tough. “I don’t know. You didn’t sound sorry just then.”

  “Oh, Maggie,” I said, trying to keep myself from laughing. “I am so sorry. I would rather suffer death than see your face in pain.”

  I began to make kissing sounds and tried tickling her. We both started laughing and almost fell as we scuffled for a few seconds. Maggie finally ended it by making some kind of growling sound and shaking her head.

  “I’ll never understand you,” she said.

  “Good. Neither will I.”

  “Logan has his hands full.”

  “He did the other night,” I whispered and shook my chest.

  “I talked to Tripp this morning and he talked to Jason again.”

  “Uh-oh,” I said. I pictured the worst. The management guy backed out…

  “No, it’s a good thing,” Maggie said. “They’re flying out to LA early next week to meet with Jason and talk strategy.”

  “Talk strategy,” I whispered. “I can’t believe that’s happening for them.”

  “They deserve it,” Maggie said.

  “Oh, yeah, of course they do. I’m not saying they don’t. It’s just… I don’t know, a little funny how I finally get to hang out with Logan and he’s leaving. Probably for good, right?”

  “They’re not moving there,” Maggie said. “They still have to play shows here and record their full demo. Jason has to shop it, too. There’s lots of time here, Annie.”

  “What would you do?” I asked. “I mean, if the band left.”

  “I’d cross that bridge when I came to it,” Maggie said.

  “I want to live like you.”

  “You used to be the crazier one,” Maggie said. “Did Jared really hurt you that bad?”

  I swallowed. The honesty of the question was like a dagger to my heart.

  “I don’t know,” I whispered. “I mean, I wasn’t happy for a long time. But I was comfortable. I thought I was in a rut and that we were in a rut. But that town, Maggie, it just sucks you in, holds you there. You know, part of me almost doesn’t blame Jared because things had gotten so slow and so boring.”

  “No,” Maggie said. “He doesn’t get a pass. Ever. I don’t care.”

  “Okay, fine. I hate him.”

  “Good.”

  “I’m just… I feel like I did my time and then I got kicked out and someone else got the reward.”

  “Shit,” Maggie said. “You really think that way? That you’re paying a price for something else?”

  “I don’t know. I think so.”

  “That’s horrible. If you’re not happy, you need to go. You need to leave and find something that makes you happy. Just because you were with Jared for years didn’t mean he’d marry you and knock you up.”

  “But he went out and knocked up someone else,” I said.

  “So what?” Maggie asked. “That’s his life. You’re free.”

  “Free…”

  I wanted to say more, to be bitter, but I suddenly thought of Logan. I saw him without his shirt. Looking at his scars. His body against mine. His hands and fingers touching me everywhere I wanted to be touched.

  “When is DownCrash leaving again?” I asked.

  “Don’t worry, we have time. Are you working tonight?”

  “No,” I said. “I have the day off.”

  Maggie hugged me and said, “Good. I’m taking you out to lunch and then we’ll casually drop in on a DownCrash practice. I’m going to go to Tatum’s tonight and you’re going to bring Logan back here.”

  “Back here?”

  “Why not? Annie, this is your place. You need to be here, be home. Enjoy it. Bring a guy back here and enjoy it. Shit, Annie, this is your life right now. If you don’t embrace it, you’re going to look back and regret it.”

  “You sound like my grandfather,” I said.

  “That’s because we’re both smart.”

  I smiled.

  My day was booked and my night would end with Logan in my bed.

  8

  I started to reach for the garage door and Maggie took my wrist and pulled me back. The muffled sound of music came from the garage and I turned to look at her, wondering what the heck
was wrong.

  “Just listen,” she said.

  So we did.

  It was the acoustic song Logan had offered up. As the band played, I realized that they had definitely been working on it since that first night. They played together a little smoother and all three sang at certain parts. Logan and Tripp traded vocals, their voices different yet equally sexy. It made the song that much better. When the solos came, I picked up right where Logan and Tatum each played. Logan had more guitar skill than Tatum did, but I would never say that to Maggie. Or Tatum. Logan’s guitar solo sounded more technical, more notes, adding more life to the song. For Tatum’s guitar solo, he would strike notes and hold them or bend them. It was a slower solo, but it worked for the song.

  The song was incredible. If added to the end of the demo, it would definitely get DownCrash a deal. I really hoped they would use it. I could picture music executives listening to the demo and hearing the normal DownCrash songs with the fast and powerful music. But then this last song, this bonus track even was so slow, so beautifully written.

  “Fuck, they are so good,” I said. “So, so good.”

  “They’re going to be huge,” Maggie said. “They’ll be on some kind of tour by next week, I know it.”

  I wanted to ask, Then what about us? but I knew Maggie didn’t want to live like that, so I opened the garage. We would enjoy DownCrash as we knew them now.

  The song had ended, but Logan continued playing. Strumming the chords, hitting the notes, staring at his guitar. He was deep in thought, but the second he saw me, he put the guitar down and had his eyes set on me.

  “Annie,” he said.

  “Hey,” I said.

  We stood awkwardly and unsure if we should hug, kiss, or just bolt out of there and finish what we started the other night.