Torn from You

Then Logan did something I hadn’t been prepared for. He snagged my hand, jerked me up against him, and caressed my hair. “I like the bed look. And the pink boxers ...” He trapped my hand behind my back. “Liking those too.”



Anger, where are you? This guy hurt me. He shredded every single part of my dignity and stomped on it. But Logan’s words were erotic. Sensual. Just like when he was up on stage. It reminded me of how he was before. He wove through me, made my body sing. Logan was in my kitchen drinking my orange juice at four in the morning, and for a second I wanted him here.



“Sculpt. Let me go.” That was all I could come up with; chicken.



“You left a bar alone looking beautiful and drunk. Don’t do it again.”



“Sculpt—”



He interrupted, his voice hard and unrelenting “No, Emily. Matt should know better. You don’t take drinks from guys, never leave a drink unattended, go to the bathroom in pairs, and never fuckin’ go home alone drunk. Jesus.”



Was he serious? He pops back into my life after two years, stirs up the past, blows up everything I thought about him, and then makes demands of me?



“I see the Legos building. Stop thinking, and promise me you’ll be more careful.”



Okay, it was a little stupid. Drunk and cabbing it home alone was not smart, and despite wanting to tell him off, I nodded. Because fighting him on this was just making it harder on myself when all I could think about was him kissing me.



Shit, I seriously needed a loony bin.



“I wanted you to hear us play, baby.”



“I don’t want to hear you play.” There was no chance I was going to torture myself listening to him sing. “You have to leave.”



“Eme.” His free hand came up and traced the curve of my neck. I swallowed. He watched. “Give us a chance.”



“Log ... Sculpt, please ... don’t.” I pushed his hand off my neck then stepped back so I could take one breath without having to breathe in his delicious scent. He wasn’t going to leave, and I needed him to—fast.



Silence.



I could hear the slow drip of the tap in the kitchen sink. Drip. Drip. Drip. It was driving me mad, and I was quickly becoming unravelled as he just stood there not saying anything.



Damn it. I strode over to the kitchen sink and pushed the tap all the way down.



Silence.



My hands gripped the edge of the counter as I kept my back to him, and if my fingernails could penetrate marble they’d be indented into the stone.



He moved behind me, his hands running down my naked arms until they were resting on top of mine. His hard chest leaned into me so I was pressed into the counter, no escape. No place to run.



“Mouse,” he whispered in my ear, his breath like a warm breeze caressing my skin. “Don’t let him win.” His fingers forced mine apart so our hands could interlock. It was intimate, way too intimate.



“You wrecked me.” I barely recognized my ragged whisper as my voice. “I was scared of you. I ... I still am.”



“I know. Jesus, I know.” His thighs were hard against mine; his groin pressed into my ass. “I will always do everything I can to protect you from others hurting you. I don’t want you to be scared of me. I would do anything for you. You know that, right?”



A small part of me wanted to believe him, but mostly I didn’t. “I was weak, and I hate myself for it.”



He swore beneath his breath then pushed off the counter, and I instantly felt the coldness seep into my veins. “You’re the strongest woman I know. But baby, you need to forgive yourself. Your body knew what your heart and mind didn’t.”



“What? That it was okay to be fucked by you? To forgive myself for enjoying it?”



“Yes.”



“I gave in to you. I begged. I knelt on the floor and called you Master.”



His eyes closed briefly and he took a deep breath. The outer corners of his lips pulled down and the darkness in his eyes, it was gone. Instead, I saw vulnerability. “Yes,” he said quietly then ran his hand through his hair. “You submitted to me, in order to survive. If you hadn’t, you would’ve died or, worse, been sold. That is strength, Emily. I ... I did everything I could to protect you. But bad shit happens. Sometimes, it can’t be stopped. I couldn’t stop it, baby.” He shifted his weight and the floorboards creaked. “Jesus, I’ve missed you.”



I swallowed, feeling the tears well up in my eyes. How could four little words make me want to run into his arms? No. I was stronger now. “Well, I can’t say the same.”



He sighed, and I saw the tightening of his face as if he winced at my words. “Eme, I’m leaving tomorrow.”



His words felt like a slap in the face. Jesus. What the hell was wrong with me? I wanted him gone. I needed him gone. Why was every part of me screaming like a five-year-old not getting her way?



I shouldn’t have looked at him, but I did anyway and turned around. “That’s good.” As soon as I said it, I wanted to take it back. It wasn’t good; well, it was, but it wasn’t. God ... I was more screwed up than I thought.



That cold expression I knew intimately was back. It was so controlled that for a second I felt that familiar fear. I mean, I didn’t really know him did I? Tonight was a good example when he beat up that guy for dancing with me. I never thought he’d lose control like that.



He narrowed his eyes. His hands clenched; his body grew tight. And he still looked hot. My body should be sick with disgust. I should be screaming my head off to get him away from me; instead I wanted to scream at him to touch me.



“What we had, we can’t get back, Sculpt.”



“We can, ’cause it never fuckin’ left.”



I didn’t say anything. My chest rose and fell unevenly, heavily, and I knew my nipples had to be showing through my snug camisole, although he wasn’t looking there. No, his gaze never left my face—again. It was unnerving. Unsettling.



“Jesus, Eme. I don’t know what to do. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”



I lowered my head. There was nothing he could do. I didn’t have it in me to go through this with him again. To take a chance and then be wrecked apart. “Do nothing, Sculpt. That’s what you should do.”



He swung away then strode to the door and flung it open.



He was pissed, and yeah, I saw how much I hurt him. Logan may be hard and confident, but tonight I saw more of him. I saw him hurting. But I didn’t trust him any longer.



He turned back around just as I was being stupid enough to admire his ass in his faded blue jeans. He caught me staring, and I felt my cheeks turn beet red, and I quickly looked at my feet.



I heard his boots on the hardwood floor come closer, and I gasped as he grabbed my chin. “Look at me.” His thumb rhythmically stroked across the cleft in my chin. “Just... please give us a chance.”



I lowered my eyes from his, and his hand fell away from my chin.



He moved in closer and his voice lowered to barely a whisper. “Eme. I’m sorry.” Logan let me go, turned and walked out the door.



I collapsed onto the kitchen floor and began breathing again. Logan just ran me over, backed up, and did it again.



Chapter 16



I tried to extinguish Logan from my mind, but it didn’t help that every time I heard a motorcycle my breath hitched, my heart started pounding, and the butterflies in my stomach erupted. I slammed the balcony door shut and locked out the sounds of the city streets, motorcycles included.



Then I kept hearing his voice saying ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘I’ve missed you’. It was chewing me up inside, knowing I was doing the right thing, yet seeing the hurt I caused—no it was him that hurt me.



“You going to Georgie’s for brunch?” Kat nabbed her coffee off the counter and took a sip.



“Yeah. Deck texted, said he’d pick us up since he’s passing right by the condo.” Since we’d moved to the farm, we made it a habit to visit Georgie whenever we stayed at the condo. Despite my head feeling like it had a set of drums vibrating in it, I knew I couldn’t bail on Georgie since I missed seeing her last night. Matt hadn’t come back to the condo, so we suspected he crashed at the bar like he often did.



“Can’t go. Hank sent me a text this morning. The tractor needs medical attention, and he thinks he knows the problem and is planning on fixing it. I have to get there before he gets to the tractor. He’ll have metal parts thrown all over the garage, and we’ll be out of a tractor for weeks.”



I smiled. Hank was an angel with the horses. But he had no skills when it came to fixing things. He was retired and kind of came with the farm. He had a little cottage at the back of the property and was super sweet. “Okay, so I’ll see you at the farm later.”



“Yeah. Let me know if anything juicy goes down. Deck looked pretty pissed off last night. I swear his eyes never left Georgie once and his scowl ... That guy is the definition of danger. I’m thinking Georgie’s outfit had something to do with it.”



Deck was cagey about what Unyielding Riot actually did, but considering he got me out of Raul’s compound and often worked with the authorities it had to be dangerous. I was uncertain whether he kept a close eye on Georgie because he had the hots for her or because her brother never came back from their last mission and he felt obligated to watch out for her. There was also the possibility that Deck’s work had potential repercussions.



“Why? What was she wearing?” Georgie dressed a little ... different, with no fear of what others might say.



“I’ll put it to you this way. I bet Deck told her to change and she did ... into something even more revealing.” Kat laughed. “Even Matt’s mouth dropped open when he saw her. And about Sculpt—”



I stopped her. “Sculpt’s gone, Kat.”



“No listen, I wanted to apologize for letting him in last night.”



“You were drunk. And you hurt your hand trying to stop him.”



“Yeah. But still.” Kat sighed. “I have a feeling he’ll be back. Just saying ... Sculpt doesn’t seem the type to give up easily, if at all.”



I heard the buzzer and walked over to the door and pressed the Talk button. “Yes?”



“A gentleman is here to see you.”



“Okay. Thanks, Eddie. Let him up.”



“Going to shower. Say hi to Deck for me.” Kat headed down the hallway. “Oh and just so you know, Hank and I are putting the horses in the lower field today if you’re going to ride later.” Kat stopped. “Emily ... maybe it’s time to, you know ... find someone. Let a guy back in. If not Sculpt then someone else.” She disappeared into the washroom, and before I could even begin to contemplate her words, a knock sounded.



I turned the lock and opened the door.



Logan.



My stomach dropped hard and fast with a mixture of emotional uncertainty. Jesus, I was so screwed up whenever I saw him that my emotions didn’t know how to react. Butterflies released in every direction, some looking for escape, others fluttering with joy.



He looked Häagen-Dazs delicious in his worn out blue jeans and a gray T-shirt that set off his dark eyes. And they were dark.