46. Logan
46
LOGAN
A rms crossed over my chest, I lean against the tiled wall as I watch Bertram dangle from a chain hooked to the ceiling. It feels fitting that we’ve come full circle. That we’re back in the same room we interrogated Lydia in.
Except, this time, our victim won’t be leaving alive.
“He’s waking up.” Royce takes a step back from where he’d been standing sentinel over Bertram, Grayson pushing off the wall on the far side of the small room to stalk closer.
“About fucking time,” he growls, like he’s not the reason we’ve been waiting hours for his shitstain of a father to regain consciousness. Not that I can blame him.
I’m still fucking furious with myself for not realizing Shortcake was in trouble only feet from the house, and I had no fucking clue. I shouldn’t have left her alone.
I can tell Royce is carrying the same guilt; the tightness in his shoulders and the flexing of his biceps let me know he’s itching to take out all that guilt on the man, who is slowly rousing.
Bertram groans, and when his eyes finally flutter open, the three of us are standing shoulder-to-shoulder in front of him. He’s truly never looked worse, half charred, half beaten with skin literally sloughing off. It’s a disgusting sight.
“What is this?” His words are slightly slurred, his voice raspier than it used to be. His bloodshot eyes scour the room, taking it in. “W-where am I?” Before finally lifting to where he’s dangling from the ceiling. “W-what… Get me down!”
“Yeah, that won’t be happening,” I tell him.
He finally seems to realize who is standing in front of him. His gaze narrows on me, then turns wary when it slides to Royce before finally landing on his son.
“Grayson.”
Contempt lines his cracked voice. It raises my hackles. Despite his dire situation, he doesn’t seem to realize he’s not the one in charge here. He should be cowering in fear. Begging for his life. How the fuck is this asshole even still conscious?!
“Dad.”
Bertram’s lip lifts in contempt. “If I’d known you were interested in my sloppy seconds, I’d have let you have a go with Lydia before I killed her.”
Grayson’s hands fist at his sides, but instead of acting on the violent impulse I know is riding him hard, he smirks arrogantly at his father. “This isn’t about you, old man. And for the record, Riley was never yours. You took from her. But what she vehemently refused to give you, she gave willingly to me. To us. Because she’s ours.”
Grayson’s chest expands with pride, and I silently clap to him for finally getting on board with Team U s .
“But thanks for taking care of our Lydia problem,” Grayson continues.
His father merely grunts. “So what is your plan now?” the asshole drawls, still not fully grasping the situation. “We both know you haven’t got it in you to kill your own father.”
Grayson scoffs. “You’re no father to me.” Stepping forward, he glares intently at Bertram. “I know what you did to my mother. The abuse. The bruises.” His voice rises with each statement he directs at his father until he’s shouting, “You’re the reason she’s dead!”
Unaffected by his son’s accusations or the palpable rage billowing off him, Bertram snarls, “Your mother was weak. Weak-willed. Weak spirited. Weak. ”
He doesn’t get the chance to say anything more. Grayson drives his fist into his already beaten and burned face.
Despite the ache that’s likely settled into his muscles from the earlier beating, Grayson pummels Bertram anew.
Royce and I stand back, knowing he needs this. Needs the closure. To burn off everything he’s bottled up regarding his father.
By the time he’s done, Grayson’s knuckles are split and caked with blood, and his father sways listlessly from his manacles. His toes barely touch the floor, his body bowed forward. The chains are the only reason he’s still standing.
His face is a bloody pulp, so swollen and charred that he resembles Lydia and David’s corpses more than a human being.
Ass pressed against the far wall, Grayson is bent at the waist, his hands on his knees as he catches his breath.
Meanwhile, I step forward. Bertram’s eyes, swollen and bloodshot, unfocused when they meet mine.
“Remember me?” There’s no mistaking the blade of menace in my tone.
Missing a few teeth, and with his mouth likely filled with blood, he merely makes an indistinguishable noise in the back of his throat.
I take my time, cracking my knuckles as I stare him down. “You’ve had this coming from the moment I found out what you did to my girl. Even if you’d left her alone after you got out of prison, you’d still be right here, swinging from a chain and counting down the minutes until your death.”
Then I drive my fist into his stomach, throwing my entire weight behind it. He doubles over—well, as much as his chains will allow—an agonized sound ripping from his throat as red-tinged spittle hangs from his mouth, swaying precariously before dropping to the blood-splattered tiles.
I go to do the same again when a hand on my shoulder pulls me up short. “Here,” Royce grunts, shoving a baseball bat into my hands instead. “Riley will have all of our nuts if you damage your hands while giving this fucker what he deserves.”
He’s not wrong, even if it does feel good to use my fists. I never use my fists. Never get in fights or do anything that could potentially jeopardize my hockey career, yet the second I saw this sack of shit on our doorstep, I had no concern for my future, only that penance was paid.
That Riley got her justice.
That Grayson got his closure.
That we all got our vindication.
Twisting my hands around the handle, I give it a few test swings before slamming it into the side of Bertram’s knee. He cries out. A noise that sounds like the tearing of ligaments makes me smile as I line up for another shot. “Oh yeah, that felt good.”
I hit the same leg again. This time, there’s a pop, his kneecap dislocating. When his leg is completely fucked up, I move on to the other one, doing the same to it.
I’m breathing heavily, and sweat dots my brow by the time I’m done, and Bertram is officially dangling by his manacled wrists, his legs completely fucking useless.
If only it were his dick.
Actually…
He’s half-conscious when I shift my stance, lining the bat up before driving it directly between his legs and into his balls.
His strangled scream is music to my ears.
“Your turn, man.” I toss the bat to Royce as I turn my back on the shitstain. I feel ten times lighter than I have in months. Like a weight has been lifted off my chest, and I can finally breathe again.
It feels fucking great.
“Gee, thanks. You two fuckers have left me so much to work with.” Royce gestures in Bertram’s direction. “The asshole is half dead already.”
I shrug, not the least bit apologetic.
“Whatever,” Royce grumbles, shaking his head. “I’m not interested in beating on him, anyway.”
“You sure, man? ‘Cause it feels pretty fucking epic.” Arms out to the side, I spin in a circle with a manic grin. “I feel like I’m on top of the world.”
“That’s the adrenaline,” Royce drawls.
“Nah, man, this is the sweet, sweet high of vengeance.”
Dismissing me with a roll of his eyes, he turns to Gray. “Gray, you done?”
Still leaning against the wall, Gray’s expression is shut down as he stares at his dad. “Yeah.”
Royce searches his face before he nods. “You can step out?—”
“No. I’m staying.”
Royce doesn’t ask if he’s sure. He simply pulls the gun Dax gave him several weeks ago from the waistband of his jeans.
Flipping off the safety, he stalks over to Bertram, who puts up absolutely zero fight. I don’t even know that he’s aware of what’s happening right now. If he realizes he’s about to die.
With the muzzle pressed to his forehead, Royce doesn’t say any last words as he pulls the trigger.
The sound bounces off the walls and vibrates down my bones as Bertram’s head snaps to the side before falling forward.
In the deafening silence of the aftermath, the three of us stand there, staring at the empty carcass dangling in front of us.
Good fucking riddance.
Hands shoved in my pockets, I glance at the others. “Well, I dunno about you guys, but I’m ready to get home to our girls. I think this calls for a celebratory breakfast.”
Freshly showered and wearing only a pair of gray low-slung sweats, I silently enter Aurora’s room and scoop a sleeping Riley into my arms.
“What time is it?” she mumbles sleepily, burying into me as I carry her out of the room.
“Early, still.”
“Is everything…”
“Everything’s perfect, Shortcake.”
“It’s over.”
At the foot of the stairs leading to Grayson’s room, I look down at her, finding both eyes open and intently fixed on mine.
“It’s over. He’s dead. Your mom is dead. You and Aurora are both safe. No one will get to either of you again. Not without going through all three of us first.”
“Aurora?” she enquires when I begin ascending the stairs.
“She’s sleeping still. We have a couple of hours until she wakes us.”
It felt like it took forever for us to get back home. Dax offered to take care of the body, and we agreed since, like, what the fuck were we going to do with a dead body?! Then we had to strip out of all our clothes and hose ourselves down with ice-cold water before donning some shitty garb Dax managed to find last minute.
Frozen to the bone, we all went to shower as soon as we got home. Royce, the fucker, called dibs first on using our shared one, so I had to wait for his slow ass to finish before I could get in, then finally go see my Shortcake.
There’s no way any of us would agree to be parted from her tonight, and since Grayson has the biggest room and, hence, the biggest bed, it made sense for us all to congregate in his room.
Which is exactly where the other two are when I walk in carrying Riley.
Her face lights up when she sees them before her lips part on a gasp. She’s scrambling out of my arms before I’ve even fully set her on the bed.
“Grayson,” she gasps, crawling between his legs to the head of the bed, where he’s sitting with his back against the headboard.
“It looks worse than it is, Tempest. I’m fine,” he assures her. Not that she listens as she lifts his hand, inspecting the bruises already beginning to bloom, and nicks along his knuckles with a frown tugging on her lips.
She gives his other hand the same thorough going-over before she lifts her face to his. A silent moment passes between them—a conversation without words.
Royce and I can be angry at what both of them had to endure. We can want vengeance for them, but Riley and Grayson are the only two who fully understand what it was like to be at Bertram’s mercy—albeit in different ways.
His hands come up to cup her face, his thumbs brushing reverently over the apple of her cheeks. “I swear,” he murmurs, seemingly in answer to something she silently asked. “This is our new beginning. A new life. Together. All of us.”
One of his hands slides down to gently caress her neck, the other threading through her loose strands of hair. “Now kiss me, ‘cause, after tonight, the only thing I want is to feel your body against mine while we show you how sweet this new life of ours will be.”
He doesn’t give her the chance to move of her own volition as he uses his hold on her to drag her lips to his in a possessive yet hot-as-hell kiss. She moans into his mouth as she crawls into his lap, straddling him.
I suddenly understood why watching us that day in the treatment room was so painful. Riley’s still fully dressed in the ridiculous outfit that looks as though it’s a piece of clothing belonging to each of us, and my dick is already tenting my sweats. Another minute and there will be a wet patch for everyone to see just how fucking gone I am for this girl.
Not that I give two fucks if these guys see that. Hell, I don’t give a shit if the rest of the world does. I’ll gladly scream from the fucking rooftop for the entire universe to hear that I am head-over-heels, maddeningly, deeply, irrevocably in love with Riley James.
Unable to withstand another moment of not touching her, I stalk over to the bed and climb onto it behind her.
Breaking her kiss with Grayson, she looks at me over her shoulder. Those delectable swollen lips stretch into a smile. Needing to taste her, I duck my face to nip at her lower lip before sucking it into my mouth.
Her arm wraps around my neck, pulling me closer as she arches her back. Her ass grinds against my throbbing cock, and I nearly lose it right there and then.
I can’t get enough of this girl . She’s fucking everything.
“Riley,” I groan.
“Need you,” she moans, one hand draped over Grayson’s shoulder while he lavishes her neck and collarbone with open-mouthed kisses.
Her gaze flicks to the side, and I realize Royce has moved to kneel beside me on the bed. “All of you.”
Jesus, just when I think she can’t get any more perfect.
I’m not the only one who thinks so, as Grayson voices his agreement while burying his face in her hair.
His hands have slid beneath her clothing, inching her hoodie up and over her head. Her top comes with it, leaving her naked from the waist up, tits on display, and her nipples screaming to be sucked.
Ducking his head, Grayson sucks one into his mouth while Royce twists the other between his thumb and forefinger.
Throwing her head back, my hands move to her hips, steadying her as she rubs herself on my cock.
“Such a wanton little slut for us, aren’t you, Babydoll?” Royce purrs in a voice that is filled with sinful promise.
“Yes,” she pants, even as a blush dusts the tops of her cheeks and blooms across her chest.
“Bet you’re already soaked,” Royce taunts. “So desperate to take all of us at once.”
“Find out for yourself.”
Sliding one hand from her hip, I push it beneath the waistband of the sweats she’s wearing. Her heat has me god damn nearly combusting before I sink two fingers inside her.
“Fucking drenched,” I confirm.
I steadily move my fingers in and out while she grinds against my hand. Between the three of us, we tease her to the brink of release before Royce’s filthy words send her careening over the edge.
“You’re going to come for each of us. Then you’re going to come on all of us. So drench Logan’s hand, James.”
Fucking her with my hand, ensuring my fingers brush that sweet spot inside of her, she detonates, crying out as she comes all over me.
Grayson doesn’t give her a second to catch her breath before he shoves her sweats down. He flips them so she’s splayed on her back in the middle of the bed.
Her auburn hair fans out around her, and she looks like my every fantasy with her glittering eyes, swollen lips, and flushed chest.
Shoving her legs apart, he dives between her thighs, making her practically jolt off the bed as he licks and sucks his way along her slit.
“Hold her down,” he barks, coming up for breath before diving back in.
Royce and I are on either side of her, and while he claims her mouth, I set to work tasting every inch of her skin.
Her hand fists the back of my head when I suck her nipple into my mouth, and it isn’t long until she’s murmuring “Oh God,” on repeat before screaming out for a second time.
“You’re doing so good for us, Ry. One more,” Royce encourages.
She shakes her head. “Can’t.”
“Yes, you can. One more, then we’ll give you what you want.”
Flipping her over so she’s on her stomach, Royce hauls her up by the hips. She sways on her knees, but he steadies her with a hand on her hip while he lines his cock up at her entrance. His piercing glints in the dim light of the room before he pushes his way inside.
She moans, back arched and lips parted as he fills her. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, along with her sweet moans.
I know when Royce goes to stretch her ass as she gasps at the feel of his thumb pushing against her tight ring of muscle.
“Shh, baby, relax,” I soothe, stroking a hand down her spine. Releasing a held breath, she relaxes, and Royce wiggles his thumb all the way in.
“Oh,” she gasps, before thrusting back against him.
“That feel good, baby?” I ask, chuckling at her blissed-out expression.
“So good. But I need more.”
Royce chuckles. “So greedy.”
“It gets me so fucking hard seeing how much you want us,” I tell her.
“Yours.” Her breathless claiming goes straight to my cock, and unable to hold back any longer, I reach into my sweats and fist myself.
Her pupils dilate as she watches me pump my cock.
“Damn fucking straight, you’re ours,” Grayson growls, appearing just as mesmerized with her as I am while he watches Royce coax her toward another orgasm. “Ours, always,” he barks, lifting her face with a finger beneath her chin as he lowers his to hers. “And we’ll always be yours.”
With that, he slams his lips down on hers. She comes instantly. Cum is still leaking from Royce’s cock when Grayson rips her way. “All of us. Inside you. Now.”
He practically shoves her into my arms. “I want your ass first.” Possessive fucking asshole.
“Is that what you want, baby?” I ask her.
“I don’t care which of you goes first, so long as you hurry up about it,” she snaps. Even doped up on orgasms, she’s still impatient to have us all.
Grinning, I give her lips a quick peck before falling back on the mattress and bringing her with me. “Ride me,” I tell her, steadying her hips with my hands as she reaches between us to grab my engorged cock, bringing it to her entrance before sliding down.
My head falls to the mattress as I groan. Her wet heat feels like silk against my skin as I thrust up into her, forgetting about everything else in the room as I become fully engrossed in all things Riley.
It’s only when I feel her tighten around me that I snap my eyes open, not remembering when I closed them, to find Grayson looming behind her.
“It’s just my fingers,” he assures her, his voice surprisingly gentle.
“Oh, God,” she groans a moment later. “That feels so good.”
“Here.” Royce tosses him a small bottle of lubricant. “Brought that in case we needed it.”
Grayson pulls away, and a moment later, he’s back. His hand on her spine pushes her down toward my chest, and I murmur, “Kiss me, Shortcake.”
She doesn’t hesitate, her tongue infiltrating my mouth in a sloppy, wanton kiss.
I feel it the moment Grayson breaches her walls. She stiffens against me, and I whisper words of encouragement which become increasingly strangled as I feel his cock slide against mine inside her, separated only by a thin barrier.
If I thought Riley was tight before, it’s got nothing on how it feels now. My dick is in a vice grip, and I’m pretty sure if one of us so much as wriggles, I’m going to explode.
Grayson is cursing under his breath while I’m struggling just to breathe, and Riley’s fingernails leave crescent moon marks on my chest.
“Oh my god,” she whimpers. “I feel so full.”
“But a good full, right?” I ask, needing the clarification.
“Uh-huh.” She gives a shaky nod of her head, her eyes closed and her entire body trembling with the onslaught of ecstasy. “But I really, really need one of you to move.”
It takes a few moments for the three of us to find a rhythm that works, but holy shit, once we do, it’s like fucking nirvana up in here.
Sex with Riley is fan-fucking-tastic. But sex with Riley when it’s all of us is out of this world.
I’m absolutely going to come in record time.
“I’m so close already,” Riley moans, echoing my thoughts. “Royce.”
“I’m here, Ry.” He appears at my head a moment later, and it’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen, watching him thread his metal dick into Riley’s mouth so she’s taking all three of us at once.
“That’s it, Babydoll,” he praises. “Look at you taking all of us. You were fucking made for this. For us.”
She makes a noise of agreement around his thick cock, still somehow managing to bounce on my dick in tandem with Grayson’s thrusts.
The entire scene is erotic.
“Fuck, I’m going to come,” Grayson grunts. His face is scrunched as if he’s fighting to delay the inevitable. I can’t fucking blame him; I’ve been attempting to recall old hockey stats just to keep myself from coming. I’m not ready for this to end yet.
“You going to come, Riley?” Royce asks. He’s now fucking her face relentlessly. Tears streaming down her cheeks as he holds her hair out of the way.
She mumbles what I seriously hope is a yes, and wedging a hand between us, I rub at her clit.
She tights around me a moment later. Royce’s thrusts stutter, and Grayson curses vividly while colors I’ve never seen before dance across my vision before my balls draw up, and I come.
Panting and breathless, we collapse in a sweaty heap on the bed.
When I finally catch my breath, I say aloud, “Please tell me we can fit one more round in before Aurora wakes up.”