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Still, Young was dead and I couldn’t help but think I should have saved him. If I had moved faster, run harder, listened more intently, maybe he would still be alive.
Four
Logan
I shook my head and tried to clear the images from my mind, but they were burned inside my brain forever. No amount of therapy, sleep, or time would ever erase them. They were mine to hold onto. Forever.
I checked the clock and saw that it was two in the morning. I knew I should try to go back to sleep, but I couldn’t bring myself to close my eyes. I didn’t want to see his face again…his bloody body…
Without hesitating, I jumped from my bed and pulled on my sweatshirt. Sleep was no longer an option and I knew the only thing that might help was to move. I hurried down the stairs and out the front door. The second my feet hit the sidewalk I started running.
I let the breeze shake me awake and the cool air clear my senses. I took a few deep breaths and closed my eyes while my feet beat a path beneath me. It wasn’t long before my body went into autopilot and I was able to run without any thought. The peaceful nothingness was more inviting than anything had been for a long time.
My legs tightened and my abs clenched, but I kept moving. My breathing was slow and steady. Even after months away, I was still trained for this. I could run at this pace for hours without breaking a sweat. My breathing would never falter. My sides would never begin to ache. I had the body of a Navy SEAL and right then, as I ran through town, it was the only thing holding me together.
With my arms pumping beside me, I turned sharply down Peach street. I ran quietly through the center of town, my eyes scanning the shop windows. Angie’s café wouldn’t open for a few more hours and the bank after that. The Prewitt’s flower shop was always closed until noon on Sundays and Margie’s new stationary store wouldn’t open at all until Monday morning. Only the diner was open at this hour. I thought about stopping in for a milkshake, but I ran past without slowing down. It wasn’t the night for a diner trip.
I kept my pace as I put the town square behind me and moved further into the surrounding neighborhoods. All the houses were dark, not a single light was on anywhere. Only the street lights lit my path as I ran silently. I knew if anyone was awake they wouldn’t come outside to greet me. Everyone was nervous around me since I returned to Bradberry. I was that hardened Navy SEAL with war wounds. No one wanted anything to do with me.
When I ran into people on the street they were always nice. Everyone made polite chit chat, but no one asked me anything real.
“How’s the weather?”
“Seen your mom lately?”
“Have you checked out Margie’s new store?”
The questions were always the same. I answered them with a reassuring smile that told people it was okay, they could talk to me, I wasn’t going to snap. Still, no one hung around longer than a few minutes. I pretended not to notice when people crossed to the other side of the street as I passed by. Mothers would shield their children from me and I would turn a blind eye. They thought of me as dangerous and, in a way, I was.
Since that night, I’d changed. My one true purpose in life was to be a Navy SEAL. Once that happened I felt whole. Complete. After Young died, everything changed. Nothing about my life as a SEAL felt real anymore. I changed. I hardened. I really did become dangerous, but only to myself.
I started questioning who I was, who I was meant to be. I doubted whether I was ever really meant to be a SEAL. I questioned everything.
That’s why I was discharged. They didn’t discharge me with negative marks. It didn’t feel like a dismissal or a rejection. I spent almost five years with my team. We had successfully completed over a hundred missions. We were indestructible. Until we weren’t.
When we lost Young, everything fell apart. Our team stopped being a team. We lost our connection, our bond. We all drifted apart and, slowly, we all retired. It didn’t make sense to a lot of our fellow SEALs, but they weren’t there that night. To them, when you lose a guy you grieve and move on. You keep fighting. You keep working. You let the loss fuel the fire in your gut. Your job does not end. But to us, everything ended.
Our job no longer felt like ours. It felt as if we were playing dress-up in someone else’s clothes. We weren’t really us anymore. We were just shadows of our former selves and nothing anyone said could change that.
I kept running, past house after house, without knowing where I was going. It wasn’t until I was turning onto her street that I realized where I’d been headed all along. The Prewitt’s house was at the very end of Tuckerton Court. I’d been there a thousand times, but not for years. When I saw Mr. and Mrs. Prewitt in town they always waved politely. They never spoke to me. I don’t blame them. They didn’t like me back then and I was certain their feelings hadn’t changed.
The closer I got to the Prewitt’s the more confused I became. Every other house was pitch black, but there was a faint orange light peering out from beneath the oak tree in the front yard. I ran faster, wanting to get a closer look. I knew what room was behind that tree.
I stopped in front of the house and stared at the window with my mouth hanging open. I told myself it was nothing, it didn’t mean that she was home. As far as I knew, Piper hadn’t been home in five years. Not long after I left town she left for New York, just like she always planned. I hadn’t spoken to her since. She never returned my calls or my letters, but I knew through the town gossip that she’d moved. I was proud of her when I found out, she was doing exactly what she always wanted to do.
Still, I hated not seeing her around town. Everywhere I went reminded me of her. I had so many memories of our time together that I couldn’t imagine Bradberry without her in it. To me, Bradberry was Piper and Piper was Bradberry. Always.
Staring up at her window I tried to see some movement inside. I strained my eyes, desperately trying to catch a glimpse of her shadow. Something, anything, that would tell me it was really her. That she was really home. I prayed to see her hand inch around the side of the curtains and pull them aside. I would have given anything to see her blue eyes or watch her dark curls catch the light just right.
After a few minutes, I knew I needed to move, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave that spot. My feet were cemented to the ground, my eyes locked on that orange light. I couldn’t explain it, even to myself, but I could feel her. She was closer than she’d been in years and I could feel her presence like it was calling out to me. My entire body was being tugged forward by something deep inside my soul. I didn’t realize what I was doing until I was halfway across the lawn, trekking a determined path toward the front door.
Just as quickly as I started moving, I stopped. I shook my head and turned around. I half-ran back to the street. My legs protested, my body longed to go back to the door, but I pushed harder against myself until I was sprinting down the street. I ran hard and fast, not stopping until I was all the way back home. My feet felt like lead, but I forced them to keep moving until I was safely back inside my bedroom. I couldn’t believe what I’d almost done.
Walking up to the Prewitt’s door at two in the morning because I thought Piper might be inside? What good would that have done? I could only imagine the look on Mr. Prewitt’s face if he’d opened the door.
I threw myself on my bed and sighed. I felt like I was losing my mind. After waking up in a panicked sweat the last thing I needed was to confront Piper after all these years. Besides, I didn’t even know if she was home. It was just a feeling after all, just an old instinct that told me she was there.
I forced my eyes closed and told myself I was imagining it. There probably hadn’t even been a light on in that room. I was seeing things. Shit. My mind was playing tricks on me.
