Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
“Are not men themselves mere poison by nature?”
-Pliny, Natural Histories-
Thea
I wake to sunlight streaming through the window, the warmth cascading down my body in a pleasant sensation.
The dream I’m gently being pulled from has left me tingling and oddly relaxed.
I let out a long breath. The storm seems to have long cleared leaving behind the August sunshine.
Birds chirp excitedly outside the window that’s flung open allowing the warm, fresh air to flow in.
My arms lift up to stretch, my body feeling so much better, but the progress is halted when an IV tugs on me.
Frowning I look at the needle taped in my arm and follow the line all the way up to the bag hanging above me.
In a panic my fingers are already ripping the IV free, my mind spinning as I attempt to figure out when the fuck this happened.
“Oh thank Christ.” Logan’s relieved voice comes from the doorway, his hand cradling a cup of coffee as he rushes towards me. “You are never allowed to do that again Tink, do you hear me?”
“Uh… what happened?” I ask as I watch him discard the coffee cup on the dresser before he’s scooping me up in a hug. I awkwardly attempt to return the gesture only to realize the IV is making it damn near impossible.
He doesn’t move for a long minute, his arms banded around me as if he’s afraid I’ll disappear and that's when it clicks.
He knows.
He’s seen it.
He’s seen all of me.
I feel myself shrink back from him, feel the shame of it all bubbling upward until it’s threatening to drown me. I don’t want to look into his eyes to see the pity there, or worse… the confirmation that he won’t want me any longer, that I’m broken and unlovable because of what I allowed to happen.
“Don’t do that, Thea.” He says with a dark, rough, tone. “Don’t you dare be ashamed of anything you’ve gone through.” His warm hand cups my face, drawing my gaze up to his own.
“What happened?” They are the only words that seem to break free of my mind.
He pulls back, hand dropping away and I immediately miss the feel. He takes a long drink of the coffee. “You had a seizure because of the drugs, you were withdrawing. You were out for three fucking days.”
I can see it now, the dark circles under his eyes, the exhaustion that seems to hover over his body. “I don’t understand…. That's never happened before. I don’t do drugs.” My mind whirls as I try to piece it all together.
“You must have done them enough, Thea.” He says. His tone isn’t judgmental but I feel myself shrink regardless. The shame quicksand dragging me under.
“No, he wouldn’t give them to me all the time. It was only once in a while, when I was good.” I mutter under my breath without conscious thought.
“What the fuck do you mean when you were good?” His tone sounds lethal.
I shake my head, shrinking into the bed away from him. How does one explain exactly what being ‘good’ to Royce Ripkins III means? Or that I was even willing to be good for the man who abused me.
Logan seems to sense I’m struggling because the anger that was previously rolling through his body vanishes. “I’m sorry Tink, I shouldn’t have gotten mad like that. I just…”
“It’s okay.” I say quickly. “I just…” I shake my head hating the words getting tangled up within my mouth. Before Royce I never had this issue with words, but now every sentence that forms gets tangled up before it makes it free.
“You could have died, Tink.” His eyes dip down and it’s only further confirmation that he’s seen it all.
“It was you I was fighting wasn’t it?” I say hesitantly, the very hazy memory of screaming for help floating at the edge of my mind. “When I was yelling for help, it was you holding me down.”
Logan nods. “And my father. He made it up here despite the storm and was able to help you. But the moment the IV was in your skin you lost it.” He searches my eyes for something unknown. “Whoever did this to you is going to suffer, Tink. I promise you.”
A wave of exhaustion washes over me and I can’t seem to bring myself to argue with him, or tell him that I doubt he’ll ever get to Royce. That man is damn near untouchable at this point. But another thought has a spark of panic washing over me.
“Logan, you didn’t tell Rodger I was here did you?” The spark turns to a full on inferno as I realize my stupidity. I fled to the town of the man who offered me up to Royce on a silver platter. And if Logan told him I'm here I have no doubt he’d drag me back himself or at the very least tell Royce.
He narrows his eyes in question before he huffs out a snort. “No Thea. Rodger has no idea you're here.”
“You can’t tell him!” I say quickly. “Please just… just keep it to yourself for now?” At least until I figure out a plan.
“Don’t worry Tink, that won’t be an issue.” He says with an odd tone.
“I’m serious Lo.” I implore him.
Logan lets out a long sigh before a dark chuckle escapes his lips. “Unless you are a psychic and can commune with the dead no one is talking to that asshole ever again.”
The world stalls for a moment as the words settle on my skin like dust from old library books. “He’s…. dead?” Logan nods, carefully watching me as I process the information. “How?”
“Not sure you're ready for that.” He says with a darkness passing over his eyes. I cut him a sharp look. Logan drags his hand through his hair. “We killed him.”
He braces as if he expects me to flee or yell or do anything other than lay like a lump on this bed. Or maybe he expects me to cry and grieve for the man my mother once loved but I don’t feel anything but numb relief. So I simply nod before I lay back down against the soft pillows.
“Good.” I say softly, after a long stretch of silence. My eyes grow heavy without warning, my body demanding more sleep.
Logan lets out a long sigh before I feel his lips sweep over my forehead in a light kiss. “Get some rest.”
He pulls back from me and without thought I grab onto his arm with all my strength. “Don’t go?”
There is a pause, my eyes now fully closed and refusing to open, before I hear him chuckle softly and then… he’s tucking my body into his. “Sleep Tink. I’m not going anywhere.”
The next time I wake it’s because I’m fucking melting.
My body still pressed up against Logan. At some point we had shifted positions and instead of leaning against him I’m now fully wrapped in his embrace, one of his tattooed hands splayed across my stomach as he holds me.
Tattooed hands that apparently helped kill my stepfather.
I'm laying in bed with a killer. The fear that I think should be there though never registers in my body, instead all I feel is the relief that Rodger is one less thing I need to worry about.
The heat radiating off Logan’s body is damn near suffocating and I wiggle a bit to try and knock the blankets off at the very least, causing my ass to rub against his cock.
He lets out a satisfied puff of air at the movement and I freeze, but he doesn’t wake.
Logan has always been a hard sleeper, as kids I remember Law and Ace fucking with him left and right when they’d have sleep overs.
I allow my body to shift a bit more, my back no longer against his chest, giving me the ability to study him a bit.
His blonde hair falls in a haphazard way across his face enticing me to sweep it back.
At some point he must have removed his shirt when we shifted positions because now he was very much bare chested.
My eyes trail down his naked chest to the barbells pierced through his nipples, the sight immediately making me squirm.
His skin is covered in all kinds of ink, tattoos in various styles that truly should not all blend so well and yet it all seems to work on him.
Without conscious thought my fingers start to trace the lines of the ink that sweep across his chest, the pattern delicate as it twirls around his heart.
My eyes travel up to Ace’s name over his eyebrow, the letters bold against his face.
This time I don’t resist the urge to brush his hair off his forehead to get a better look at him.
He’s beautiful, the piercings and ink adding to the natural beauty he has.
I let out a squeak as Logan drags my body into his with a huff of hot air, securing me against his chest. My top leg moves automatically, finding purchase over his hip.
Biting my lip I hold back another sound, as his hard length lines up with my core and presses into me.
My mouth goes dry at the feel of his cock.
my breath choppy as every nerve is turned on.
His own breathing still perfectly even. I can’t help the image that plays through my mind, the idea of his cock sliding into me and fucking me deep.
I glance up at his face, praying to see those green eyes wide open and willing.
When they are still firmly shut I bite my lip hard, the tangy taste of my blood flooding into my mouth as I try to work myself out of this position.
This time Logan releases me just enough that I think I’m free only for his devilish hands to drag me back into our original position, my ass now the body part shoved against his rock hard dick.
His hand splays over my pelvis, his fingertips brushing the bare skin exposed from my shirt riding upward in all the movement.
His fingers seem to dance across the skin, stroking back and forth.
My heartbeat picks up and I can feel the heat and wetness radiating from between my legs.
The movement keying up every nerve and turning me into a needy mess.
Logan’s fingers breach the waistband of my shorts, my breath hitching in my chest as his fingers brush over my clit.
Despite my best efforts I can’t hold back the soft moan that spills from my lips.
He does the motion again, the soft pads rubbing the bundle of nerves in circles forcing a louder sound from me as a sort of desperation fills my whole being.
My hips seem to move with free will all their own, chasing the building pleasure, as though my body has been touch starved for far too long.
My nails dig into his arm as I arch my back, a needy moan slipping free and filling the quiet air of the room. His body goes rigid behind me, his hand stilling as the pleasure continues to ravage my body.
“No please.” I whimper out, the sound broken and needy. “Please don’t stop, you. . . I just feel good. Please keep making me feel good.” I don’t care if I’m begging, don’t care how it sounds, or that I was using his hand while he slept.
“Fuckkk.” He breathes onto my neck, his lips just barely brushing over my skin send goosebumps all over, and force yet another whimper to erupt from my chest. He resumes his exploration, now far more deliberate than before as he uses his leg to spread me further open, chuckling darkly.
“So wet for me Tink. Fuckkkk. How long were you like this before I woke up? Just wet and messy while my fingers played with you.”
The words are lightning straight to my core.
They fry my ability to respond, to think, to do anything but get lost in the pleasure.
He lets his fingers trail over my opening, gathering the wetness but never penetrating me and brushing it over my clit.
Stroking me over and over until I’m taut and shaking.
The tiny squeaks and moans build once more until they are barely covering the sound of how wet I am as he finger fucks me.
“Such a good girl, taking everything you need from me. Look at how beautiful you are like this.” He says between peppering kisses against my neck. “Fuck I can’t wait to taste you, push my tongue into you and let you come apart.”
“Logannnn.” I cry his name in a long whine, the sensations overwhelming.
He chuckles darkly. “Cum on my fingers, pretty girl. Let me feel what I’ve always dreamed of.” I do as he commands, my body letting go and the release flowing through me violently.
“Fuckkk me you are perfect.” He growls. My body feels limp and sated as I lay there, allowing him to do as he pleases, his fingers playing with the mess I’ve left behind in a leisurely manner.
Pushing his body up he drags his fingers away from my core, leaning over me as he makes a show of licking my cum off his fingers.
I bite my lip hard before releasing it and letting his name flow from my mouth like a breathy prayer. “Logan.”
“Tell me what you need, baby girl.” His voice is husky, dark, and sends shivers up and down my spine. “Use your words and I’ll give you anything you desire. The world is yours.” The words are on the tip of my tongue, I want to beg him to fuck me.
That is until we hear someone slam the front door.