35
Logan
The wait is just as hard for me as it seems to be for her.
But at least, I have something to occupy myself with.
Something other than trying to handle my increasingly disgruntled ghost girl.
Although it’s definitely been a full-time job to keep her from thinking too much about the locked windows, to come up with reasons for keeping her inside, and to make sure she doesn’t find out about the cameras installed everywhere in the apartment.
Beyond that, all my remaining energy has been focused on the DNA tests.
We soon discovered that the initial plates Damien took from the social worker’s apartment had been contaminated.
We’d had to send some guys back to retrieve more dirty dishes, and by then, the apartment had been cleaned.
Luckily, the cleaning service hadn’t done a great job, but still, it took time to find a useable sample.
Now, at last, the sample has been collected, the tests have been run, and for the past hour, I’ve been staring at the text message Everest sent me, trying to wrap my mind around its meaning.
DNA results are in. She’s your daughter, Logan.
I have a daughter. And I find it out after I’ve already lost her.
Sometimes it feels like my life is made up of loss. Cruel, ironic loss.
“Logan.”
“Hmm?”
“I’ve been saying your name for the past ten minutes,” snaps Lia, pulling me out of my thoughts. “I want to go out.”
“Uh huh.” I sit down on the bed beside her, shoving my cell phone into my pocket, my mind still in a daze.
“Can we go out? The doctor said he’d take off my brace in a few days. And it hardly hurts at all anymore. There’s really no reason to keep me locked up anymore.”
On the contrary. There’s never been a better reason to keep you locked up.
“Soon,” I say vaguely, stroking over her back and ass.
“Logan!” She hits the mattress in frustration, then lets out a pained whine. “I’m not suicidal anymore. So just let me go out!”
“It’s not just that,” I tell her, semi-truthfully. “We haven’t heard from the Puicin Gang in a while, but that doesn’t mean they’re not still out there and looking for you. And we don’t even know why.”
“Well, they gave me my memory back,” she grumbles, wriggling her ass underneath me as she tries, in vain, to escape my hand. “Maybe they’re not that bad.”
“If they weren’t…” I pause, trying not to mention Jane, since she hasn’t, and I haven’t yet decided how, or if, I should broach the subject. “They wouldn’t have tried to chop off your feet.”
“Ugh.” She shudders, trying to sit up again, but the weight of my hand on her ass keeps her in her sprawled position.
She sighs, closing her eyes as I run my fingers over her body.
“You could at least let me come, Logan,” she teases, parting her legs to show me the damp spot on her panties.
“That’s the very least you could do, to make up for being such an asshole. I’ll stay very still…”
“No, baby. I don’t want you to stay still when I make you come. I want you to wriggle around like a fish on a hook and scream. We’ll wait until you’re all healed.”
She lets out a curse under her breath.
“I love you so much, baby,” I murmur, continuing to stroke and knead her thick ass. “I told you you’d be free, and I meant it. But until the Puicin Gang...”
“And when you’ve gotten rid of them, it’ll be another excuse,” she sighs. “I know you, Logan. I know there’s no way I’ll ever be free while I’m around you.”
“Of course you will be,” I say, nibbling on her earlobe. “Don’t talk like that.”
“Well, don’t lie to me!” She tries yet again to get up, but I pin her to the mattress with an arm, and she huffs out in frustration.
“I bet the Puicin Gang don’t even want to kill me,” she adds.
“Maybe they just don’t want me to have feet.
Why would they have restored my memory if they were going to kill me after?
Unless they’re a bunch of sadistic assholes who wanted me to understand why they were going to kill me? ”
“Very good, baby,” I tell her, kissing her on the tip of her nose.
“I think you hit the nail on the head. The Puicin Gang wanted to give you back your memory so that you understood why they were killing you. Which means they do want to kill you, and now that your memory’s back, nothing is stopping them.
Nothing but this tower, because there’s no fucking way they could ever breach it.
So you’re going to stay in this apartment like a good girl until it’s safe for you to go out.
” Before she can protest, I slam my lips against hers.
“The very second you’re not in danger anymore... you’ll be free.”
“Logan!” she whines.
I smirk at how cute she looks, struggling so helplessly under the weight of my palm.
Part of me is definitely going to miss the neck brace.
Though I guess I don’t need one to keep her helpless.
“Logan, you’re such an asshole! I just want to go out.
I want to get, like, a Starbucks, or go to the movies.
And not feel like you’re breathing down my neck every second, or tracking me on my phone, or asking me what I’m doing every second of every minute… ”
“I won’t do any of those things,” I promise her, “because I know what you’re doing. You’re staying inside this apartment.”
“Logan!”
“Lia, even if you weren’t in danger, you’re depressed. I’m not sure I believe that you’re not suicidal anymore. I just need to look after you. That’s all.”
She punches a pillow in frustration. “Well, maybe I wouldn’t be so depressed if you didn’t keep me locked up!”
“Well, maybe I’d rather you were depressed and in my hands, than out in the wild and… happy.”
I kiss her cheek as she gasps. “That’s a shitty thing to say, Logan. I really hope you’re joking.”
I thought I was, but when the words left my mouth… they didn’t exactly feel like a lie.
I’m freaking myself out these days. Sometimes, I don’t even recognize myself. Standing up abruptly, I hurry out of the apartment, making sure, as I always do, to turn the lock in the door.
_
“Hmm.”
Damien blinks from my computer screen. Seraphina gave birth a few weeks ago, and now they’re both back in their home in upstate New York.
He takes occasional pauses, between taking care of the newborn and boning Seraphina, to call in and deal with business.
Everest sits on the other side of me, pretending to pay attention while scrolling on Instagram, and Vincent sits up straight in his chair, ready to fall back into his role of fetching me another cup of coffee the minute I ask for it.
Business these days seems to revolve around the Puicin Gang. They’ve been meddling, and the CEOs of companies we’re trying to acquire or partner with keep turning up with chopped-off feet.
“We have only ourselves to blame,” groans Damien. “Cornering all our old enemies until they had no choice but to join another gang. And now, it seems, their one intention is to give me a permanent migraine. Fuck me.”
I take a long swig of my coffee, trying hard not to show how little I care.
I’d happily give up all of Devil if it meant keeping Lia safe.
I guess Damien should understand, since he used to feel the same way about Seraphina.
But his dislike for Lia has really brought out the hypocrite side of his nature.
“Disgusting.” Everest randomly joins the conversation after having been tuned out the whole meeting.
“My Instagram algorithm is all fucked. I don’t know if my phone has somehow turned into a sentient being, because I’ve definitely never googled feet before, but somehow that’s all I see these days.
Mostly porn models, luckily—not that I give a shit about that, guys, you know I’m asexual, so wipe those smirks off your face.
I meant luckily as in, at least they’re not bloody, chopped-off feet.
Unlike these. Take a look. Makes me want to puke. ”
He flips the phone toward us, and I nearly gag when I see the photo. God knows I’m used to dead bodies, but there’s something about seeing just a pair of… feet.
“Blegh,” says Damien.
“Seriously, I swear my phone listens in on us,” grumbles Everest. “You guys talk about the Puicin Gang, Instagram shows me pictures of feet. Anyway, on that note, I have to go to my hairdresser and then get my teeth whitened… Mrs. Everton’s gala is in just one week now. You guys should be getting ready too.”
“No fucking way am I going to that shit,” I grunt. “I won’t leave Lia for anything less than an emergency, and a gala definitely doesn’t qualify.”
“Well, I was thinking you could bring her along.”
I scowl at him. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”
“What?” He shrugs, his eyes dropping back to his Instagram feed, before he closes it quickly. “Ugh. More feet. No, I’m not out of my fucking mind, Logan. I can tell she wants more freedom, and…”
“Oh, yeah? How can you tell?”
“Well, you did ask me to keep an eye on the cameras whenever you can’t.
Obviously, I don’t watch when she’s naked or anything like that,” he adds quickly, “I timecode that shit for you, just like we said. But I do see her walking around in circles, trying to open the windows, banging her head on the walls…”
“Banging her head,” I echo. “But she’s wearing a neck brace. That must hurt like hell.”
He grimaces. “Yeah, I think that’s kind of the point. I think the whole locking her up in your apartment thing is getting to her.”
“Eh, it’ll be fine,” drawls Damien from the computer screen.
If anything could convince me it won’t be fine, it’s the guy who did just that to Seraphina for months. “Okay,” I relent at last. “I’ll take her to the gala.”