Smoke & Mirrors (Forged in Fire) by Skye Jordan

Author:Skye Jordan [Jordan, Skye]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-05-30T16:00:00+00:00

14

Isabel

When I get back to the motel after my shift at the bar, the lights in Logan’s apartment are still on.

I learned a long time ago not to take responsibility for someone else’s anger, but there’s still a knot in my stomach from our earlier argument.

I don’t owe him an explanation. I’m pitching in around here to pay him back for letting me stay. He has no right to be angry, but I know he’s acting this way because he cares.

Telling him what’s in that box is a powder keg, but I want this stress to end. I want to leave the past in the past and start the next phase of my life—one which is still a complete mystery—with a clean slate.

I’ve got to get rid of this fucking gun and cut all ties with Aiden.

I pull out my phone, take a deep breath, and call Aiden. I’m surprised when I get his voicemail. After how he’s been hounding me, I expected him to pick up. Then again, it is late on the East Coast.

“Look, I’m over this mess,” I tell his voicemail. “I just want to end it. Tell me how to get the gun back to you.”

I disconnect, sick to my stomach over the loss of five grand. May as well have been a million. That’s how important it was to me. But Logan is even more important. Everyone I’ve met in this small mountain town is more important to me, which is a huge wakeup call. There was no one and nothing for me in New York. I need to figure my shit out so I can find myself a new place to start over.

I don’t see any movement in Logan’s apartment, which means I’m going to have to make the herculean effort to apologize. For the record, I suck at apologizing. It always feels like defeat. Apologizing makes me feel small and weak, but I’ve gotta do what I’ve gotta do.

At Logan’s apartment, I raise my hand to knock, but he opens the door before I can. “What’s up?”

“Can we talk?”

“I don’t want to fight.” The resignation in his eyes shows me the wall he’s erected between us. “It’s your life. You can live it however you want.”

He starts to close the door, and the words “It’s a gun” tumble out of my mouth. His gaze laser sharpens on me again, but he doesn’t say anything, which pushes me to add, “In the box. It’s a rifle.”

“You took a rifle from an abusive ex? And you expect him to leave you alone?”

“Let’s get one thing straight.” I don’t try to hide my anger with his assumptions. “He was an arrogant narcissist, but he was not physically abusive. Mentally and emotionally, sure, and as soon as I saw it, I broke things off. You don’t have to believe me, but you don’t get to treat me like a liar when you have no proof what I’m saying isn’t true.”

Instead of closing the door in my face, he walks away, leaving the door open.

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