The Lies He Spoke

FORTY ONE

TW: Mentions of self harm 

LOGAN 

"Logan?"

Logan jumped and screamed and dropped his motorcycle keys. "What in the fucking freaky shithole of hell," he panted, gingerly bending down to pick the keys back up after he saw who it was.

Olivia grimaced. "How did you just say all those words in one sentence?"

"How did you sneak up on me like that?"

"I followed you."

"I think that was the obvious part."

It was almost the dead middle of the night. Eleven pm. Logan had only left the apartment after Olivia was asleep. Or after he thought she was asleep, creepy little sister. A shiver ran down his spine. If he was the Sons of Solomon, he would probably be a little afraid of her.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, shifting her backpack over one shoulder.

Logan's bad mood came rushing back into him. "Are we back in the realm of talking to me?" he snapped.

"I asked first."

"Go back to bed."

"You go back to bed."

Logan could hardly handle Olivia's flip flopping without his brain melting. For a day since the Angel incident, she had said nothing to him, angrily stomping away if he did ask something of her or say something. And now what? She was demanding to know what he was doing? Why did she care what he went to do?

"I'm going out. Go back inside."

Olivia drew herself up to her full height, which wasn't very much. "I won't let you go," she said.

"Olivia, I am not arguing with you. Get back inside right now."

Olivia didn't argue, but she didn't move either.

That made Logan even madder. "You can't just ignore me and then now be attached to my hip, okay? That's not how this works. You made your choice to hate me. Go away."

The words left a sour taste in his mouth, but it was true. She was going to end up hating him anyways, so she might as well be at home safe hating him instead of out in danger, because there was no way this was going to end well.

But in a small voice, his sister said, "I don't hate you."

Logan's fury gave way to panic. "Well, you should!" he said, throwing a leg over his bike and jamming the key in the ignition. She was not going to come with him, not in a million years, he would not allow that. "Things would be a lot easier if you would just admit it and be done with it."

The bike roared to life and Logan reached for his helmet slung over the handlebars, but Olivia reached out even faster and gripped his arm almost hard enough to hurt. "No, wait. Wait," she pleaded. "I'm sorry I've been ignoring you. And I would never hate you. I love you, so please don't go."

"Stop saying that!" Logan said fiercely as he attempted to pull her off him. He should never have gotten himself in this deep. When did he start thinking it was okay that Olivia told him she loved him? When did he let himself be lulled into this fantasy about being healed and whole and a good brother to any of his siblings?

Olivia clutched his arm tighter. "Why do you think you're so bad?" she demanded. "That no one should love you?"

"Because I hurt everything I touch!" Logan snapped.

There was a small silence. Logan looked at the ground. He could not look at Olivia's face, not after ruining her wonderful thoughts about loving brothers and good relationships and siblings that made it easy to be a family. His chest began to hurt so much it stung his nose. It stung his eyes. He wanted to die.