Logan
“You’ve got it bad, man.”
“And you’re a fucking asshole.”
My head is hanging down, pressed so hard against the table in front of me that I know it’ll leave a deep ridge on my forehead.
I don’t care though.
I hate myself. I fucking hate myself.
How could I let this happen to her? What the fuck is wrong with me? She was right to call me a loser. That’s what I am.
I don’t fucking deserve her.
I couldn’t even stop my own friend from hurting her. From humiliating her in front of the whole class.
Fuck. I hate myself so fucking much.
“You’re spiraling, Logan.”
His voice cleaves through my nightmarish thoughts. Usually, the sound of it reassures me. But now, it only adds turmoil to my world.
“Yeah, I’m fucking spiraling,” I growl, raising my head. “What the fuck was that, Damien? How could you do it?”
He shrugs. “Well, I wouldn’t have, if you hadn’t wanted me to.”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I’m too shocked to say a word.
“Close your mouth,” he says. “You look like a fish.”
I snap it shut, still staring at him in disbelief. “You knew I didn’t want you to do it.”
He shrugs again. “Okay, maybe I did. But you didn’t say it.”
I stand up, too furious to trust myself. “So what? You’re trying to tell me it’s my fault? That I have myself to blame for what happened because I didn’t ask you not to do it? And actually, I’m pretty sure I did!”
“Okay,” he says. “Maybe you did. Maybe I don’t have photographic memory. Who cares? The point is, Lia Cabello just got knocked down a peg or ten. Now I can be the bad guy and you can swoop in like her knight in shining armor, and pop your mutual cherries. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”
I can only shake my head, incapable of answering. I’m the closest I’ve ever been to hating him. I really need to get the hell away so I can cool down.
I turn abruptly and head for the back door of his house.
“Wait, Logan,” Damien calls after me, and for the first time since I can remember, I hear a tinge of something like anxiety in his voice. “We’re not going to have a problem over some girl, are we?”
I turn around, gritting my teeth. “She’s not some girl, Damien. She’s mine.”
The minute those words are out, I regret them.
I know he’s aware I have a crush on her, but I’ve always done my best to hide how deep my obsession runs.
I’ve never wanted him to think more about Lia than is absolutely necessary.
He may be my best friend, but I know how ruthless and unpredictable he can be. Today definitely proved that.
But his reaction shocks me more than anything else that’s happened. Something shifts in his expression, and he murmurs, “Okay. Got it.”
“Huh?”
“I got it.”
I stare at him, expecting him to add the punch line to what I can only conclude is a joke. When he stays quiet, I lash out, “Stop fucking with me.”
“I’m not. She’s yours. Hands off.” He lifts his hands up in a placating gesture.
“Fuck you,” I grunt, doing my best to hide my sudden urge to hug him.
_
“Lia! Psst! Lia!”
A drowsy head framed with red curls appears at the window. But when Lia’s eyes take me in, her expression goes from sleepy to furious in a minute.
“You!”
“How are you, Lia?” I ask.
“Fuck you,” she snarls. “Fuck you! Get the fuck away from me. I never want to see you again!”
My heart is thundering so hard in my chest that it feels like I’m going to be sick.
“Please, Lia. I’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry. I should have put a stop to it.” I lean against the side of her shingled house. “Please. What can I do to make it up to you?”
“Nothing,” she hisses. “Go away.”
I shake my head. I just can’t leave like this, knowing she has a very real reason to despise me now. I need to figure something out. I can’t lose her.
“Lia,” I groan. “Insult me. Call me all the names you like. Tell me you hate my guts. Just don’t make me go.”
“I already call you names,” she snaps. “I don’t need your fucking permission. Now get the hell away from here, or I’m waking my dad.”
I shake my head again. I would gladly face her dad or anyone else. But I just can’t walk away now.
“Tell me what I need to do,” I beg her. “Tell me what needs to happen so you can forgive me. Please.”
“Nothing. Not a fucking thing, Logan. There’s nothing you can do that—”
She stops talking abruptly, and I look up hopefully.
“Tell me, Lia.”
“You can let me punch you.”
Oh.
The thought of letting her do that feels pretty intolerable. But far less intolerable than the idea that she could shut me out completely, and permanently.
“Okay, Lia,” I say at last, trying to keep the sadness out of my voice. “You can punch me. I guess I need to come up for that?” I add hopefully.
“No, I’m coming down. Wait for me. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
She doesn’t need to tell me to wait for her. I’d wait forever.
It doesn’t take quite that long, but it definitely takes more than just a few minutes for her to appear at the back door.
When she does, I barely recognize her. One of her usual revealing tops is tucked into a skintight short leather skirt, and she’s got on fishnet stockings and boots.
Her pale freckled face is coated in several layers of foundation, her eyes are fringed with heavy mascara, and she’s wearing bright red lipstick. Plus blue sparkling eyeshadow.
“What the hell?” I stammer.
“Don’t you like it?” she questions, her lips twisting into a condescending smile.
“I… it’s… it’s a lot, Lia. Are you going somewhere?”
“None of your business. You going to let me punch you or what?”
“Uhm…” I shrug helplessly. “Okay. Go for it.”
“Alright.” She walks out into her small yard toward me. But then she stops, biting her lower lip, shuffling from side to side as she looks at me uncertainly. I suddenly realize that for all her harsh ways, she doesn’t know how to throw a punch.
I’m pretty sure she’s the only person in Oakley, girl or boy, who doesn’t know how to do that.
The thought makes my heart feel a little lighter. “Want me to teach you?”
“Huh?”
“How to punch someone.”
She scowls at me. “I know how to do that. Idiot.”
“Well, go on, then.” I point at my chin, but she still hesitates.
“Okay,” she mumbles at last. “I guess I… I don’t know how to do it that well. And I want to make it hurt. So show me.”
Her cruelty is a whole lot harder to take now that I know she means it.
Trying to ignore it, I take one of her slim hands and fold it into both of mine, forming a fist. My throat tightens as I feel her tremble slightly, and for a moment, when I look into her eyes, I could swear I don’t see hatred there.
What I see is very strange, and I can’t quite understand it.
But then, her eyes harden, and she pulls her fist from my grasp. “Well? Pretty sure I know how to make a fist. Tell me about the rest.”
“Fine.” I huff out a sigh, then launch into an explanation. “Don’t punch with just your hand or your arm. Use your whole body. Pivot your hips and use all that strength.” I can’t believe I’m teaching this girl how to hurt me. “And don’t stop at impact. Keep going. Carry that punch through. Okay?”
“Uh huh.” She nods. “So should I… uhm… do that now?”
“Take your target by surprise,” I tell her, momentarily forgetting I’m her target right now. “You’re probably going to be weaker than whoever you’re trying to take out, so surprise is your—”
SLAM.
“I’m not weak!”
Okay, she definitely isn’t. I stumble backward from the impact of her punch, feeling my lip burst and a trickle of blood spill from it.
“Holy crap! Are you okay, Logan?”
She rushes toward me, trying to catch me in her arms before I fall to the ground. But I’m much bigger than her, so she ends up falling with me.
I wrap my arms around her before she even has time to come to her senses. By the time she’s tried to put her hard wall up again, I’ve turned so she’s the one on the ground and I’m lying on top of her.
“Logan,” she whimpers. “Please get off of me.”
She’s back to her preferred physical way of dealing with me, trying to shove me away with her hands. But that doesn’t make me angry right now. Just terribly needy.
I pin her wrists above her head with one hand, as with the other, I tilt up her chin. “Do you want me to, Lia? Huh?”
“Yes. I hate you.”
A sob catches in her throat, and her eyes sparkle with unshed tears. I stroke the side of her face. “Do you really, Lia?” I say again, my voice soft. “Do you really hate me?”
She looks to the side, biting her lower lip.
“I’ll get off of you if you can look me in the eye and tell me that you hate me.”
There’s just no way she can. There’s just no way this intense attraction is only one-sided. There’s no way she can’t need me just a little, when I would burn down the world for her.
She doesn’t say a word, only tugging at her lower lip with her teeth. Obeying a sudden, overwhelming impulse, I bend down and kiss her.
Fuck, it’s so good. Her lips are velvety soft, just thick enough, and my tongue as it slips into her mouth feels like it’s coming home. She mumbles a string of unintelligible words, and then she starts kissing me back.
I let go of her wrists, my hands finding her soft cheeks, stroking her long red curls, as she folds her body to mine.
At last, I pull away, just a bit, because I need oxygen.
Then I’m back to kissing her, nibbling up and down her neck, before making my way down her low cut shirt to the tits I’ve dreamed about so much.
Then I freeze when I hear the tiniest hiccup of a sob.
“Lia?”
I whip my head back up, startling at the sound, and then at the sight of her tears. Fuck. She’s crying. Doesn’t she want this?
I quickly slide off her, and she scrambles to her feet. When she faces me again, my stomach sinks to see that the hard mask is back on her face.
“Didn’t you want it?” I voice the silent question that’s been making me spiral for the past twenty seconds. “Didn’t you want it, Lia?”
She lets out a harsh laugh. “Does it matter?”
“Of course it does. I’d never… take advantage of you like that.” I swallow the rising lump in my throat. “I’m… I’m very sorry. I’m very sorry if I crossed a line.”
She shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. I’m used to boys crossing lines. Men, too.”
The lump in my throat has grown positively painful. “What? What do you mean, Lia?”
Another hard laugh. “I think I’ve fucked about half the school. Maybe half the town, too. Everyone but you. Does that make you sad, loser?”
I can only stare in shock. I try to tell myself that none of what she’s saying is true, that this is just another way for her to hurt me. But I don’t know what to believe. I think I’m going to be sick.
“And why do you think I’m dressed like this, huh? I know exactly what you thought when you saw me. Prostitute. Well, so fucking what? I’m off to get fucked by whoever wants a piece of me, and who isn’t you. Now get fucking lost.”
She rearranges her hair, then turns away from me, quickly crossing the yard and heading to the street. It takes me a few moments to come to my senses and run after her.
“Haven’t I made myself clear?” she hisses. “I’m going out, and I don’t want you around. So scram.”
It’s all I can do not to throttle her. Instead I settle on grabbing her viciously by the upper arm. “Where are you going, Lia?”
“Fucking out.”
“Where?” I growl. “There’s nowhere to go in this town but to the Oakley Bar. Don’t tell me you’re going there.”
She struggles to get out of my hold, to no avail. “Stop trying to boss me around. You’re not my dad, and I’m not a fucking child. I don’t belong to you, asshole.”
Yes, you do, Lia. Yes, you fucking do.
You can break my heart a thousand times over. You can whore yourself out to every man in town. You can punch me so hard I pass out. You can do whatever the fuck you want, but you do belong to me.
“Stop fucking staring at me, you fucking creep! Get the fuck away! I’m going out, and there’s not a fucking thing you can do about it!”
She keeps up a steady stream of insults, never pausing until we reach the Oakley Bar.
At the sight of the seedy place, I click my tongue in frustration.
I’m so fucking stupid.
This was a ten-minute walk. A ten-minute walk during which I had more than enough time to come up with a plan to protect her.
I could have run over to Damien’s. No matter how much he hates her, he’d help me if I asked. I know he would. It may have meant leaving her alone for a few minutes, but she’s in a lot more danger in this bar than in even the worst streets of Oakley.
I could have gotten Damien. Hell, I could even have awakened her dad.
Maybe he would have threatened me with a rifle in the process, but no fucking way would he have let his only daughter go out dressed like that. Even less to go where she’s headed.
But it’s too late now. I know it even before five heavyset thugs emerge from the bar, looking up and down leerily at Lia, before settling their eyes on me.
We’re fucked.
Well, I am. Lia seems completely at ease, or at least, she’s giving a very good impression of it, as she turns to face the men.
“This kid bothering you, princess?” grunts one of them.
Don’t you fucking call her princess. Don’t you fucking call her anything!
“Yes,” she murmurs sweetly, batting her eyes at him. “He is bothering me.”
I’m so shocked I let go of her arm, and she holds it to her, rubbing the place I’d been squeezing. “He’s bothering me a whole lot. So are you going to beat the shit out of him or what?”
“Lia,” I groan, as she walks toward the bar, and the thugs block me from following her. “Please don’t do this, Lia.”
The door opens, and I see a guy put his arm over her shoulder. I’m panicking, at a loss to know how to stop the situation, and I open my mouth to spill out whatever plea, whatever threat I can think of that might have an effect on her.
Even though I already know it’s useless.
“Lia! Please! Stop! If you don’t turn around… I’ll never fucking forgive you! Lia! I’m going to fucking kill you if you walk into that bar! You know I don’t fucking lie! Turn around, Lia, or you’re dead!”
A fist suddenly appears out of nowhere, making contact with my face, and I careen backward, landing with a thud on the ground.
The last thing I see before the men close in on me is her face as she turns back one more time. In her eyes I read an expression I can’t understand.
Then the kicks and punches start, and before long, I’m blissfully losing consciousness.