Chapter 12 #2
I glance out of my side mirror, seeing a fabulous sports car racing right behind us and a pissed off owner inches away from Evan’s bumper.
It’s strange that I hate Logan but don’t at the same time.
Growing up around criminals my whole life, I’ve seen true evil so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that I end up running right back into them headfirst. It’s different though.
These guys are dangerous, psycho, and possessive but I don’t see empty stares that are void of any emotion.
Each time I look directly at them, something is sparked alive in their gaze.
Either with anger, violence, or lust. It scares me and yet gives me a rush I’ve been longing for.
So it doesn’t bother me that Logan is chasing after me, probably thinking of a way to punish me but little does he know I’m looking forward to it.
Maybe it’s because the fucker had his cock shoved so far up inside me that I saw stars I never thought I’d reach.
I may have a love/hate relationship going on with him, but he gave me a piece of what living can feel like.
My body tingles, raw desire shivering down my spine.
I want more, to live until I’ve had it all. He doesn’t even know what he started.
“Yeah, everyone knows where the princes live. They throw epic parties, not that I’ve ever been. I just hear the rumors.” Evan starts to sweat, I can’t tell if it’s because of the humid air or the devil hot on our tails.
“Sweet. I’m staying there, so you can just drop me off at the gate.” The jeep swerves before jerking back into our lane.
“I, uh, what? Yo-you live with him?!” He practically shouts and curses when he jerks the wheel to the right to avoid Logan as he whips out from behind us and cuts us off.
I watch him speed away in heavy Los Angeles traffic as I grab the oh shit bar and know he isn’t going far so he can still keep an eye on me.
“Unfortunately. He’s my stepbrother.” Leaving it at that, I don’t go into detail.
I let people think what they will. I learned a long time ago when someone has made up their mind, they won’t hear a damn thing you're saying. Believe me, I’ve tried to slip hints, and even straight out told people that I needed help but no one heard me.
“I just about shit my pants. Give a guy a warning before you drop that little piece of information. I’m not one to pry but if you ever need to, um, talk…
I’m here. It’s scary out there, ya know?
You need a friend and well, so do I. Plus there is no escaping me now, finders keepers,” Evan jokes, blushing a bright red but he takes his eyes off the road to look at me.
He’s serious. Even though the thought makes my palms sweat, I think I can trust him enough to let him in. One day at least but not today.
“Just drive, Obi-Wan Kenobi.” I laugh as he beams at me, doing a little dance wiggle in his seat.
What a nerd. Maybe not all is bad in this fucked up world, one can only pray or take it into her own hands and fuck shit up. Here’s to hoping I know what I’m doing and that it doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass.
* * *
The moment Evan dropped me off, wishing me luck and exchanging numbers, I headed right for my room.
Logan’s car was in the driveway but I didn’t see him or anyone else for that matter as I entered the house.
Locking myself in my room sounded like a brilliant plan, so here I am after a shower.
An hour later and clean from sticky soda, I sit in the middle of my bed and watch like a hawk for my bedroom door knob to start turning any second.
I really am messed up in the head because I almost hope that Logan comes in here fuming.
I want his anger as fucked up as that sounds.
When he was fucking me, it was like he was putting all that rage into one place to focus and that focus was me.
My gaze flickers to the bathroom door, making me shiver.
No. Guys like him feed on that power, once he has the girl, he’ll take his fill then throw her to the side.
That can’t be me, no matter how tempting it is.
Maybe I can find that somewhere else? I tried with trucker Adam but he didn’t make the blackness disappear.
Maybe I’m never meant to feel anything again, given one piece of heaven and that’s all I deserve.
Tarnished. Exposed. Dirty.
That’s how I feel day in and day out, my soul will never be clean again.
No matter how much I scrub my skin, try to look different, be different…
I’m still going to be Tillie. The girl who grew up in a motorcycle club of bad fucking people, raped by people who were supposed to live by the motto of having my back, blood in and blood out.
I’m the girl who will always look over her shoulder, knowing that Cruz is always going to be one step behind even with hundreds of miles to separate us.
I can’t run from the past but I can accept my future even if it’s dark skies.
Three rapid knocks at my door make me jump and dive for the knife under my pillow, hiding it behind my back.
Diana pops her head in, her blonde bob straight and styled perfectly.
You wouldn’t think that this woman was a wreck for two whole days but here she is all put together and I hate that instantly.
I know it’s ridiculous but I don’t want her to have this perfect life, safe behind her walls while I’ve only known true terror.
It’s not fair of me, but it’s what I feel.
“Till. Why don’t you come join us for dinner downstairs and get to know your stepfather and brother?” she says, smiling softly but it’s the way her brown eyes crease at the corners that tells me I don’t have a say in this matter.
She has to know what I went through back at the compound.
.. She has to. I practically told her as much.
Yet, she stands there in her nice clothes, pearl clutching necklace, and acts like everything is normal.
Next, she’ll be asking me to have tea with her out in the garden like the freaking queen.
My stomach cramps, at least Lorrie wasn’t pretending with me.
She always showed her true colors even when they were ugly.
“Sure. I um, about the other day… I’m thankful, I really am, that you have taken me into your home.
I’m not sure what you expect from me, not sure if I can be someone who you have pictured in your head.
I’m damaged, the Jokers made sure of tha-” She cuts me off by clearing her throat loudly and not staring at me, but somewhere over my shoulder.
“The past is the past, dear. No need to bring it up. You're here now and this gives me a chance to have the daughter I’ve never had. Now come along before dinner gets cold.” She turns on her high heels, the sound of them clicking on the marble floor and down the staircase fades away as I sit there in disbelief.
How can she be that cold? I get that seeing your, what you thought was your dead daughter come back from the grave basically, can be a shock and hard to deal with but to dismiss my past like it’s nothing…
it leaves me feeling empty. I didn’t want to talk about my time there, I just needed her to understand that I can’t be what she wants.
I hear a door slam downstairs and quickly change into white Chanel sweats with a matching long sleeved crop top.
Jesus. These designer clothes are the most comfortable things I’ve ever worn and the price tags on them make my heart race.
I’m used to men throwing me money on stage but never would I have thought to waste money on clothes.
It just really blows my mind. I do have an itch to dance, it’s been almost a week.
I hated the dancing on stage part with all the leering men but I didn’t mind using the pole to dance with.
It’s a great way to see what the body can do and how much strength it takes.
Maybe there’s a studio or something I can go to, I need to release all my pent up anger and energy somehow.
Lost in my thoughts, I’ve wandered down into the kitchen and don’t see anyone until I keep walking and find the dining room.
A glossy oak table that seats twelve sits in the middle of the room with the dim lighting of a three tier chandelier hanging right over the middle of the table.
Diana, I refuse to call her Mom, sits on the left side right next to Franco who sits at the head of the table like a man who rules over his household.
Logan sits on his other side, glaring straight ahead.
I think the only time I haven’t seen him glare was when he was balls deep inside of me.
My eyes roam around the table, trying to figure out where I should sit, maybe on the other end as far away from them.
“Sugar boo,” Tey whispers in my ear from behind me, making me jump, “Come sit next to me. I promise I don’t bite… much.” The way his voice goes soft and raspy tells me that he has teeth and isn’t afraid to use them.
Why do I like that?
He steps around me, brushing his arm against my shoulder, and goes to sit next to Logan, patting the seat beside him.
Rolling my eyes, I take the offered chair and wait for something to happen.
I’ve never had dinner with a family before, it was always just me and Uncle Rig eating at the picnic table outside on hot days in the Nevada heat.
So far, I’m not impressed and maybe I didn’t miss out on much.
No one is talking. The only sounds are knives slicing perfectly through prime rib and closed mouth chewing.
Alrighty then.
“This looks really good. Must have taken a long time to cook.” I tell Diana to break the awkward silence and ignore Logan choking on his drink just as he took a sip.
“Oh heavens no. I don’t cook. A chef comes in three times a week and cooks all of our meals. I just have to preheat everything,” she says, hardly touching her plate, and swirling her wine glass before taking a large swallow.