His heart dropped. He ran harder.

Matthew had Dakota by the front of his shirt. Matthew’s upper lip was cut and bleeding, as if something had hit him. Dakota looked haggard and as if he’d been drug through the mud. Nate stood on the top step of the shed, the door open, and a painting in his hands. He grinned like he’d found a piece of treasure.

“Let him go!” 

Logan ran at full force at Matthew and went to tackle him. Matthew saw him coming and pushed Dakota away, backing up a step. He effectively dodged Logan’s attack, but he wasn’t quick enough to evade Logan’s arm as it darted out and wrapped around his waist. The two went flying to the ground. Before Matthew had a chance to comprehend, Logan was on top of him, straddling his chest, and started to throw punches.

Matthew knew the basics of Logan’s attacks. After years of growing up together, fighting almost on the daily, it would have been weird if they didn’t know how the other fought. This made it difficult to get an upper hand. They rolled around, Matthew on top of Logan, and his hands found their ways to Logan’s throat.

This was a first. The scary way Matthew glared down at him, thumbs pressing deep into Logan’s Adam’s Apple, made him think Matthew was serious.

From the steps, Nate had seen the change in behavior. “Matthew, that’s a little too far.”

“Shut up, Nate!” Matthew didn’t take his eyes off of Logan. “You should have just let things stay the same, Logan.”

Logan spat in Matthew’s face. “I can do whatever the hell I want.”

He slammed his knee into Matthew’s gut. At the same time, Dakota grabbed Matthew from behind and wrenched him off Logan.

Nate threw the painting out into the rain. “If you don’t want all your shit ruined, you better stop it!”

Dakota wasn’t listening. He dragged Matthew through the mud and away from Logan. He rolled Matthew over onto his belly, grabbed him by the hair, and smothered his face into the mud. 

Logan gasped as he got up. “Stop.” 

His words were weak. He crawled. 

“Dakota, stop it. You’re going to smother him.”

Behind the struggle, Nate was throwing more of the paintings out into the rain. Angels, dozens of them, died in the filthy mud. Their screams hurt Logan’s ears. He wanted to save them. He reached out for one, but he couldn’t get to it safety.

Dakota wrapped his arm around Matthew’s neck and squeezed. Matthew’s gasps were horrible.

“Dakota!” Logan’s scream was more frightful than he’d ever heard it. He grabbed Dakota around the waist. “Please!”

His hands clawed at Dakota’s arm, right next to Matthew’s which had gone weak. 

When Logan thought it was too late, Dakota finally let go.

Matthew collapsed in the mud. He didn’t move for a frighteningly long minute. In that time, Logan prayed he would get up. When he finally started to get to his knees, Nate came running from the shed, throwing another painting on the ground as he fell to Matthew’s side.

“Are you okay?” Nate’s panicked voice didn’t make Logan feel any better. 

His bottom lip trembled, his fingers went numb, and even then, when he thought Matthew might be dead, he was thinking about Dakota.

Matthew turned over. His face was covered in mud, so much that Logan didn’t know if he could still breathe. But he had enough energy to start spewing more hateful words.

“What makes him so much better, huh? Why did you have to turn your back on us?”

Logan hadn’t expected the sharpened questions. They were like spears, piercing him in the heart, making him feel bad when he didn’t have to. He’d done nothing wrong. He was trying to right all his wrongs this time around. Cutting Matthew and Nate hadn’t been more than that. 

But they didn’t know that. They just saw their friends do a one-eighty—turn into a complete stranger. 

There was no excuse he could give. There was no real explanation, not one they would understand. Even if they were the ones he knew, his Matthew and Nate, would they understand? Nate hadn’t even sounded that upset on the phone when he told Logan that Dakota had killed himself. It was as if he’d had nothing to do with Dakota.

Logan didn’t want to assume. He’d done too much of that as it was, but he just knew Matthew wouldn’t have cared that Dakota died. To be fair to them, it wasn’t them who’d driven Dakota to jump. 

Matthew didn’t take Logan’s silence well. It made him angrier. He pushed Nate away even when the other boy was trying to help him stand. Nate backed away with his hands up. The two had already grown soaked from he rain, but all four of them didn’t care so much about that. 

Logan stepped in front of Dakota. Even when he knew Dakota could hold his own, the evidence caked on Matthew’s face, he didn’t want this fight to continue. He wanted to go back to the peace they’d found in this shed. He didn’t want to return to his own ways. As if Matthew and Nate would drag him back to that old personal hell. 

Matthew scoffed at his reaction. “You still protect him after he almost killed me? He’s a fucking psycho!”

Logan didn’t say anything. He wanted to say Matthew didn’t have the right to call anyone that when he would have done just as worse stuff to Dakota. They had all been slowly killing him.

When it became apparent his words weren’t reaching to Logan, Matthew’s gaze flickered to Dakota.

“You just believe him now? After everything he did, you really think he’s not going to backstab you? Well, did he ever mention why we were in the art room that day?”

Logan’s throat tightened. “Matthew—”

“Ah! Now you fucking speak! Tell him Logan! Tell him how you sent us up to gather all his paintings and to rip them apart! What? Are you too scared now? Did you actually think he wasn’t going to find out sooner or later?”

Logan didn’t know how to put out the fire rapidly spreading. This whole time he’d been trying to right his wrongs, but he forgot how much shitty stuff he’d done to Dakota. How could he have forgotten that just because he saved one painting, didn’t mean he hadn’t destroyed dozens of others? Just because he hadn’t destroyed one by his own physical hands this time around didn’t mean he’d still set in motion the one action that had truly broken Dakota last time?

It was happening again. Around him, all these angels were dying, and it was because of him.

Logan turned around. His gut clenched when Dakota’s darkened green eyes pierced his. He almost collapsed to his knees.

“Dakota,” he begged, almost sobbing.

“Is it true?” Dakota had no sympathy for Logan. 

Logan wanted to hide. Shame filled him, but he couldn’t look away from Dakota’s eyes. He’d done this. He could keep running away from the mistakes he made. 

“Yes,” he started, “but I’m truly sorry! I’ve been trying to make up for it! I’ll keep doing it! Whatever you want!”

He’d give everything. But he didn’t want Dakota to leave him like this. They could never see each other again, but he wanted it on better terms like this. He didn’t want Dakota to hate him. 

Dakota backed away. He didn’t look at Logan then. He looked away as if Logan disgusted him so much that acknowledging his presence was making him sick. Logan’s hands shook as he reached for Dakota. 

“Please, believe me,” He begged, sounding more desperate as time went on. The rain fell harder. He could barely see, but he saw Dakota so clearly it was like the universe wanted to make him feel shittier than he already did. 

The world was spiraling. He couldn’t breathe. He didn’t know how he could carry on without Dakota now that he knew what it was like to have him. The time they shared had meant more to him than anything else in the world. 

His feelings surged until he wasn’t thinking at all. Desperately, he grabbed Dakota by the face and pulled him toward him. Dakota only resisted a little as Logan kissed him.

Logan’s lips burned. His body was cold from the rain and Dakota was like the sun. Just like the real sun, it burned to touch it. This was never meant to happen. He was never meant to become so close to the thing he yearned for.

He knew it was wrong the second he’d done it. Even so, he couldn’t help to enjoy it while it happened. He craved for what he couldn’t have—despicable. Disgusting. He hated himself all the more for it.

Dakota stood still. He was a statue as Logan tried to convey everything he felt in this kiss. He didn’t care who else saw. All that mattered was that Dakota understood him.

He was roughly shoved back. 

If Logan thought Dakota hated him before, he’d been wrong. The look Dakota gave him now was the most hateful look he’d ever seen. Dakota loathed him.

“I’d rather die than forgive you.”

He shook as he said those words like poison. Logan felt the affects immediately. His heart felt like it was going to stop. 

“I—” The apology lodged in his throat. He was trembling so hard he couldn’t move let alone talk properly. 

Dakota ran. 

Logan reached out for him once again. “Dakota!”

Again. He’d fucked up everything again.

His legs gave out this time. He fell to the ground, knees sinking into the mud. He watched as Dakota ran from him. Angels stared at him. Judging.

So this is what she felt. She’d loved an angel. To love someone who could never love you back…

Logan knew now.