Somehow, Deidre made it to town. She pushed her sunglasses on and hailed a cab.
"Atlanta," she told him in a shaking voice.
"Ma'am, that's a three hour drive. The cost -"
"I'll pay it. Please, just drive." The desperation in her voice drew his attention. She willed herself not to cry, but she started soon after he left the beach town.
The cabbie said nothing. She managed to pull herself together after awhile but was unable to forget what she'd seen, what she'd done. It was entirely her fault Logan was dead. She deserved the brain tumor. She deserved to die.
She'd never been so scared.
It was dark by the time the cab dropped her off in front of the high rise where she shared an apartment with Logan. Deidre paid the driver and hurried inside, her mind reeling and her body buzzing with the weird energy of the killer who'd marked her. Whenever she felt overwhelmed from her oncoming death or the doctors' news, she ran to her room until she was strong enough to face the world again. The urge to hide forever made her feel sick.
Deidre left the elevator and went to her apartment. Her hands fumbled with the keys three times before she managed to unlock the door. She flung the door open and slammed it closed, about to run for her room, when she stopped cold.
"Logan?" she whispered, shocked to see the man she'd thought was dead standing in front of her.
He stared back, mirroring her surprise.
"Omigod, Logan!" she all but screamed. Deidre flung herself into his arms, pulling his face down to spread kisses across his features. "You're alive!" She began crying again. "I thought … I saw you .. and the phone I kept calling and calling and you didn't … at the beach and I did something so horrible you'll hate me…" She half-babbled, half-sobbed.
"I didn't understand any of that," Logan said but returned her hug. His body was stiff, as if he wasn't used to hugging her. She found herself comparing him to the stranger, whose body had molded around hers, as if he was made for her and no one else.
Deidre didn't care. "I am so sorry, Logan. So, so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I don't know what happened. I'm so, so sorry! I thought you were dead!"
"Why would I be?" he returned.
"You wouldn't return my phone calls," she said, calming. "Did you lose your phone on the beach?"
There was a pause. "Yes."
She didn't let herself listen to the instinct that told her the body she'd seen was wearing the clothes she bought him. Too happy knowing he was alive, Deidre hugged him harder.