The Locket

Brent hung his head in his palms, brushing his hands up and down his face a few times before he spoke. “I’m sorry. Can we just go somewhere private and talk about this? Please? It’s not as bad as you think. I promise you.”

“No way! I have nothing more to say to you.” I wanted to leave. It was too painful. I needed some distance to think about what would happen to us. “Logan, can you take me someplace please, I need to get out of here.”

“Sure,” Logan replied, squeezing my hand, giving a little tug towards the front door.

Brent attempted to side step Logan. “There is no way I’m letting you leave with him, Claire,” he threated.

“You don’t get a say, Brent. Not now,” I said with venom in my voice.

“Not like you have ever given me one, Claire,” Brent countered with just as much venom.

Damn him!

I pushed past Logan and shoved my finger into Brent’s chest.

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“Don’t you dare! Do you hear me? You lied to me, so don’t even bring up trust. You hypocrite! Maybe my mind knew all along what my heart refused to believe. I never should have trusted you,” I sniffed, holding my ground, straining to hold back tears. I pursed my lips regretfully knowing that statement would hurt Brent a great deal and as mad as I was at him, I didn’t want to hurt him.

“Claire, don’t say that. Please,” Brent pleaded, attempting to put his arms around me. I wanted nothing more than to let him soothe the pain away and offer some rational explanation, but I just couldn’t stand the sight of him right now.

“Don’t touch me,” I hissed, stepping away from his embrace. “I thought I made that perfectly clear. Let’s go, Logan.”

Brent grabbed my elbow as I past. “Claire, I won’t let you leave. You know I won’t,” he protested, tugging on my arm.

“I think you will,” Logan grumbled, pulling something from the front pocket of his sweatshirt. I heard the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking. “She wants to leave and you are going to let her,” Logan told Brent, pointing the gun at him.

Brent brought his hands up in front of him, surrendering to Logan.

“Logan, what in God’s name are you doing with that thing?” I screamed, horrified by the sight of the weapon in his hand.

“I told you Kace scared the hell out of me. I took it from my dad.”

I should have told him to put it away, but I didn’t. I needed to be far, far away from Brent and his lies. Knowing in my heart Brent would never let me go if Logan gave the gun up, I kept quiet.

“Please don’t do this, Claire,” Brent pleaded.

“You did this, dammit! You did this!” I shouted, choking out my resentment.

“Let’s go, Claire, I got you,” Logan instructed.

We backed away from Brent slowly, and made our way to the front door. Brent kept his eyes on me but never made a move to stop us. I saw a lone tear roll down his cheek and for a brief moment, I almost went to him, but the shards that remained of my broken heart refused to allow it.

As we opened the door, Reese and Brooke were coming in hand in hand. Reese sensed immediately something was wrong. His eyes bulged out when he saw the gun in Logan’s hand. Brooke clung tightly to him.

“What the hell is going on, Claire?” he asked.

“Ask your friend,” I huffed indignantly, and slammed the door after we went through it.

When we got to Logan’s truck, I lost all control of my emotions and sobbed uncontrollably. I expected to see Brent run out of the house after us, and for a moment considered running back to him, but he didn’t come.

CHAPTER 20

“Love is much like a wild rose, beautiful and calm, but willing to draw blood in its defense.” – Mark Overby

Logan locked the gun away in a small box under the back seat. He backed out of the driveway before speaking.

“You’re going to be fine, Claire,” he said, putting his hand on my knee squeezing gently.