Chapter 16
Penelope
Koa and I find Carrie inside at the main bar, where I slam two more shots in an effort to sever this invisible tie I have to Logan. That touch of his is downright sinful, and his fingerprints are stamped all over my body, claiming, conquering.
It’s enough to drive me mad.
Getting lightheaded, I tell them I need some air, when I’m really getting as far away from temptation as possible. I need to re-scramble my brain cells and forget all about him being denied admittance to Stanford.
It’ll be a lot easier to keep resisting him if I convince myself he’s lying.
Koa walks with me to the front of the building, and I sigh at the nighttime breeze, cooling my scalp as it threads through my sweat-dampened hair.
“Juss wanna stay for a bit.” I wag my finger at him. “Carrie will turn into an ugly old worrywart if I’m gone long.”
My head swims with a thick buzz that flirts with the line of drunk and tipsy and opens the valve on my thought filter. But Koa easily slips his hand in mine, offering a warm smile that relaxes me instantly.
“Yeah, no problem. I’ll walk with you, so you’re not alone.”
I crinkle my face at the putrid scent of cigarettes, and something dormant and protective stirs up memories of Silas and my hatred for him.
“That’s a great idea.”
He smirks when I hiccup.
“Here, you can hold on to me.” Tucking my arm inside the crook of his elbow, his bicep pinches me tightly, keeping me close. “You’ve had a lot to drink.”
My forehead is damp when I sweep my palm across it. How many drinks have I had?
Enough to forget Logan’s demanding presence, that’s for sure.
Except the man is everywhere, and his lustful stare branding my body while I danced lingers even now.
“Careful,” Koa murmurs, pulling me around to his other side and shielding me from a group of rowdy guys rushing past us on the sidewalk.
“Thank you.” I smile up at him.
His lips tip into a comforting grin. “No problem.”
We stop to rest at the entrance of an alley. The brick at my back scratches my shoulder blades when I shuffle sideways, trying to put some distance between us.
Koa’s always been a handsome man, but I don’t want him getting the wrong impression. It wasn’t until Hallevah that I ever felt a twinge of attraction toward him, and even then, that attraction wasn’t strong enough to warrant anything more than a one-night stand.
“I’m glad Carrie invited us out tonight,” he says, his deep voice rumbling beside me.
“Me, too.” If only because he and the rest of our friends are familiar, easy—unlike the man I left at Azúcar.
“Mom mentioned Lucy came by the house a couple of days ago.”
“Mm-hmm.” I’m trying my best to focus on what he’s saying about my mother, but it’s nearly impossible with my head spinning like this.
“I’ll admit, I was a little shocked to hear that you told her we were dating.”
“I… What?” It takes seconds longer than it should to remember I’d lied to my parents about dating him.
I snort a laugh, not bothering to think before I say, “Oh, I just said that to get my parents off my back about dating.”
When that effortless arrogance slips from his face, I grab his hand, rushing to soften the blow. “Oh, I didn’t mean that you aren’t dateable, cause you totally are. The girls in Augustine? They love your muscles and… stuff.”
His frown deepens.
“Sorry. What I’m trying to say is we’re friends. That’d be weird, right?”
He shifts so he’s in front of me, and when my head tips up, his eyes are glazed from alcohol and swimming with desire. “It would be if I saw you as just a friend.”
Oh boy.
“Koa…”
“That guy I saw you with earlier. Is there something between the two of you?”
“Pshh.” I startle him with a burst of nervous laughter. “That ship sailed a looonnng time ago.”
Apparently, he doesn’t find the idea of me and Logan together as humorous as I do. “Good. Because he’s an asshole.”
“He is an asshole, isn’t he?”
Then again, part of me doesn’t mind this grumpy, growly version of him as much as I thought or the finely restrained way he’s always watching me. Almost like he remembers exactly what I felt like on his tongue, in his hands, and beneath his strong, beautiful body.
If I’m honest, I appreciate the lengths he’s gone to make me and Carrie comfortable, too. Regardless of how hard it is to admit.
Maybe I appreciate this new Logan quite a lot.
Warmth brushes against my arms in smooth, massaging patterns, and through the haze of my stupor, I feel Koa’s hands glide up and down. “I was jealous of the way he was acting with you. Made me think you two were a thing.”
“There’s nothing to be jealous of,” I manage.
Really, what do I have to offer Logan? He’s convinced I’m worth the trouble, but that’s easy to say when he’s got his big boy job and enough money to sustain himself for probably ever.
I’ve got neither of those things. I’m the same old Penelope, flitting through life one day at a time, all while pretending I’m okay with it.
“Not true. You’ve turned down all the dates I’ve offered to take you on, yet you’re here. With him.”
One of his thighs moves to spread my legs, and I begin to panic, shoving my palms between us.
“You remember that night, don’t you?” he whispers, leaning in and kissing my neck. “You were so beautiful, dancing blindfolded, waiting for me.”
Wow, he’s just going for it. No restraint, no qualms about consent or lack thereof.
Blurry memories from the festival last year flood the surface of my consciousness. I wouldn’t say I was waiting for him, so much as he was the only male I felt I could trust. Koa’s my friend, and after avoiding men for the year following yet another failed relationship, I’d been achingly lonely for human touch.
“Stahp,” I slur, attempting to move, but I gasp when his grip tightens.
The scent of alcohol rides each hot breath, and his lips on my skin are unwanted, unwelcomed, and make my stomach lurch.
“Has your friend back there ever made you come the way I have?”
“Ew, Koa. Knock it off.”
Despite his impressive size, he couldn’t get me off a single time. It was twenty minutes of rough, impassionate sex that satisfied him and left me feeling detached and embarrassed.
The hurt on Logan’s face is still fresh, and I wish I could have told him that no other man has ever compared to him, but I was afraid to be vulnerable with the one man who has both held and broken my heart. Just as I’m afraid that if I give him the chance, he’ll do it again.
“We should go. You’ve had a lot to drink, and I don’t think you really want this.”
But he’s not listening. The apparent threat Logan poses has spurred his possessive nature, and he only grips me tighter. “Oh, I want it.”
“What are you doing?”
Koa licks up the side of my neck, uncaring when I jerk my head away. “I bet he can’t handle a woman like you. But you know I can, don’t you?”
“I-I want to go back inside.” My heart thunders like a rabbit caught in a steel trap. Even mind-fogged, I know if he tries to force himself on me, I don’t stand a chance against a male his size. “Please.”
One large hand travels up my thigh, groping, roving, making my skin jump and crawl beneath his fingers. “Come on, Pen. Just relax.”
Nothing about my body language is saying, fuck yeah, keep going, yet he does exactly that.
“Stop,” I pant more firmly this time, wriggling when he drags me around the corner and into the alley.
My thoughts swirl with confusion, wondering what’s come over him. Tears sting my eyes as the thick aroma of garbage forces bile up my throat.
Brick nicks my spine as I struggle, and people pass by, averting their gazes, leaving me completely defenseless and at the mercy of this enormous man blocking my way out.
I try one more time to get him to listen. “Koa, stop. You’re hurting me.”
“Stop fighting me and it won’t hurt so much,” he says before yanking my zipper so hard, it snaps.
“Penelope!” I hear my sister distantly call my name.
“Carrie?” Her voice sobers me, and I lean into the adrenaline with every waking brain cell I’ve got. “Carrie—”
His big palm muffles my shout, but I refuse to surrender.
As a last-ditch effort, I relax, coaxing my mind into quieting long enough to go entirely limp and giving him the illusion that I’ve given up.
“Yeah, that’s it,” he breathes, hot and sticky against the side of my face, slipping his hand into the top of my shorts.
Before he can get so much as a finger inside the band of my panties, I drill my knee into his groin.
“Fuck you,” I hiss, dropping to the dirty concrete in an ungraceful heap.
On all fours, I scramble between his legs, scraping my hands and knees as I crawl toward the sidewalk, and I don’t stop until I’ve made it far enough to get my clumsy feet under me.
“I’m over here,” I cry, but the world’s tilting, and there’s no way to tell where I heard Carrie’s voice coming from.
The full weight of Koa slamming into me from behind knocks the air from my lungs in one forceful whoosh.
“There she is!” Declan shouts.
Koa freezes, and then drops me—fucking drops me—and my head smacks against the concrete. Stars wink in and out behind my eyes, and the force of adrenaline paired with being thrown around makes my stomach pitch violently.
Voices rise with the sound of quick, heavy steps as I roll to my side and empty the contents of my stomach.
“Oh my god, Penelope.” My sister whispers comforts as her hands frantically rove my body. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for leaving you with him.”
“Is she okay?” Logan asks, sheer terror coating the question as he sweeps my hair back from my face.
Behind me, I hear shoes scuffing against the pavement and grunts followed by heavy thuds.
When Carrie touches the front of my unzipped shorts, her voice breaks. “Logan…”
“That son of a bitch is a dead man.”
He hesitates a second longer, gliding his hand over my head, and then he’s gone. I want to sob at the absence of his touch, but my raw throat can barely manage a pitiful groan.
“Koa,” Carrie cries, followed by a piercing, “Stop.”
Debris on the sidewalk digs into my hip and legs, but through the pain spiking at my temple, I roll and blink my eyes open. Carrie pulls my upper body into her lap as we watch all three men in a blur of commotion.
Several on-lookers gasp as Koa’s arms wind around Logan’s neck from behind. I try to sit, but Carrie curls her fingers, holding me down.
Declan lands an elbow to Koa’s ribs, narrowly avoiding a swinging fist, and the throbbing inside my skull worsens.
My eyes grow so heavy that I’m forced to blink, and when I open them again, Logan’s straddling Koa’s chest, raining punches across his face.
“You goddamn piece of shit,” he spats as Koa bucks his legs and thrashes his head.
Logan holds him down, relentless in his pursuit of retribution, and shadows contour the deadly scowl on his face as his shoulders bunch and flex with every meaty crunch of knuckles against blood-soaked skin.
I expect my do-gooder sister to scream at him to stop, but she watches with grim acceptance. And I might share that same sentiment if it weren’t for the sobering fear I have of Silas finding out about this.
Carrie’s head whips around as sirens blare in the distance. “Guys, we gotta go!”
My head throbs in time with my heart when Declan finally manages to yank a snarling Logan off Koa’s limp body.
Thrashing like a wild animal, and his hands coated in blood, he’s hauled backward. He beats at the arms Declan has wound across his chest, growling, “Get off me. Get the fuck off me.”
When he breaks free of his friend’s hold, he straightens the front of his shirt with wide, savage eyes. The anger marring his features has nothing on the anguish in his shaking voice. “He touched her.”
“I know.” More gently, Declan says, “But if you don’t stop now, you’re going to kill him.” His voice remains eerily calm when he glances at me and Carrie. “Someone called the cops, and we need to get Penelope out of here now.”
Slowly, Logan blinks away the bloodlust before turning that tormented gaze to me.
He spits at Koa’s unconscious form, ignoring Declan and my sister’s protests when his bloodied hands reach for me.
I whine when he scoops my sore body off the ground and cradles me to his chest.
“I’m sorry, Pen.” He’s still gasping for air as he brings his sweat-damp forehead to mine, murmuring tenderly, “I should have been here sooner. I-I should have never let you go.”
“Not your fault,” I say, struggling to string words together. “I tried… to make him… stop.”
“You did good. You did so good.” That raw adoration nearly guts me entirely, springing tears to my eyes with the praise that follows. “I’m proud of you.”
At some point, he ditched his suit jacket, and I rub my face into his silk shirt.
“I smell like puke.”
“Shh,” he whispers. “It’s okay.”
I groan, shifting in his hold. “Your shirt’s gonna to smell like puke now, too.”
His voice vibrates against the temple unscathed by my fall, rumbling like gentle thunder through summer rain clouds. “Stop talking, Penelope.”
“I r-remember… when you… used to say that to me.”
“And yet, neither you nor Declan ever listen.”
A laugh hums up my burning throat as he steps off the curb.
“Logan…”
“What is it, sunshine?”
“I’m sorry.”
For fighting you so hard. For running away from you the same way I run from everything else. For allowing you to believe that I don’t care.
On impulse, I turn my head and place a kiss against his pec just inches below his collarbone, where his scars are hidden.
He stiffens as Declan whistles like he’s hailing a taxi, and moments later, the Escalade whips into view.
Javier’s voice is thick with worry when he rolls the window down. “Are you all right?”
My sister cuts in between them. “We’re fine, but we need to get Penelope to a hospital.”
“No. I don’t need to go,” I beg. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”
“You’re pretty banged up, sis.” Carrie tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “We just want to make sure you’re okay.”
I’m fading fast, exhaustion closing in on me when Declan opens the back door. “Respectfully, we should really get going.”
“Please, don’t let them take me, Logan. Promise me.”
Word travels fast around the island and going to the hospital means risking our fathers finding out about this. Besides, I’m just a little bruised. It’s nothing I can’t handle. I’ll be fine. I’m always fine.
Logan scours my face, the muscles along his jaw clenching hard.
Declan ushers us inside the car as the sirens grow louder. “We can decide what to do on the way. Just get in the fucking car.”
Carrie shuffles inside after him, and I moan when I’m jostled in Logan’s arms.
“Do you want to sit up?” he asks when the door slams shut.
Drawing my knees up, I wrap my arms around his neck and tuck my face into his warmth.
He spreads his legs, settling me in his lap, and a knot the size of this island builds in my throat when he whispers, “You want me to hold you?”
I nod, choking on a sob while trying my hardest not to cry on his expensive shirt, and suddenly, I don’t feel so fine.
“Let yourself cry if you need to, but don’t you dare apologize for it.” His arms wrap around my body, and as gently as he can, he rocks me. “You’ve been through enough hurts without me. I want to help you through this one.”
I wonder how many of his hurts I’ve missed, too–all the events, accomplishments, and holidays we never got to spend together. But mostly, I wonder who we would be had we ever been given the chance.
“Call Lidia,” Logan says once Javier pulls onto the road.
Declan hesitates, clearing his throat. “I don’t know if she’ll make a house call…”
“Just call her, goddammit.”
At my back, I hear him shift in the seat. “All right. All right. But I’ll deny responsibility if that feisty wench says no.”
The tinted windows submerge us in darkness, and my tear-stained eyelashes droop, no matter how hard I fight to keep them open.
“It’s okay. You’re safe. Do you hear me?”
A resonant hum vibrates between our bodies, coaxing me toward unconsciousness. The frequency so low, it creates a private symphony just for us.
“I swear on my life, Penelope, no one will ever touch you like that again.”
I need you, my mind whispers as I struggle to stay here with him. Please don’t leave me.
It’s when he feathers a delicate kiss on my forehead that I realize I’ve spoken aloud.
“I’m not going anywhere, sunshine. You can count on that.”