My Vengeful-Ex

Chapter 9

Christina

My breath stopped. I hadn't been that close to him in years and had almost forgotten how good he smelled, like pine and cedarwood. His scent made memories flood through my mind. Images I had no business remembering flashed before my eyes.

"Listen to me. Listen to me carefully. When I ask you to do something, you will make sure not to mess it up, okay?" He asserted in a low voice, barely audible, but his expressions made it clear how serious his threat was.

"Do you understand?" He barked when I didn't reply.

A startled yelp escaped my mouth as a wave of fear ran down my spine. His proximity and his enraged state made my heart thud against my ribcage so hard I was afraid that it would break out of it.

"Sierra left without blowing me because she was thirsty, and there was nothing to drink," he said in his dangerously threatening low voice.

He loosened his hold on my throat but didn't pull his hand away. Instead, he stroked my neck with his fingers. A zap of pleasure shot through me at his touch. My body coming alive under it.

I had no idea what he wanted from me, but knowing what kind of relationship he had with that bimbo made me nauseous. A little part of me even rejoiced that she didn't have her claws on him anymore. I was naive to be jealous or possessive of him, but I couldn't stop my stupid heart.

"Now, who is going to take care of my hard-on?" He rasped in my ear, pressing his erection against my body, making me shudder.

His lips hovered above my neck in a ghost of a touch. His hot breath fanned my cheeks, and his scent clouded my senses. Logan traced a line down my neck and stopped just above the swell of my breasts at the hem of my neckline. I felt as if my whole body was on fire.

"I am not a whore," I hissed at him.

"That is not what I hear about you in this office," he taunted, and his words cut through my heart like a sharp knife and doused the fire of need in my body.

I was used to slut shaming from Cynthia and her bitchy friends but coming from Logan had a devastating effect. Was he so blinded by hate that he thought I could whore around at my workplace?

"I would try to find more reliable sources of information if I were in your place," I looked into his eyes and said, trying to keep my voice as steady as possible.

"I would try to be more compliant if I were in your place," he retorted.

We stared into each other's eyes, my filled with defiance and his filled with hatred. I diverted my eyes when I could no longer look into his eyes. The intensity of hatred in his eyes made my stomach churn. It might take some time for me and my mind to get used to the hatred in his eyes when all I had seen in them for years was affection and adoration.

"It took me the whole night to convince myself why it was not wise to kill you," Logan murmured against my neck, his lips grazing my throat.

I bit down on my lip, trying to keep myself steady. If I moved, I knew his lips would press against my neck, and I would rather die than go down that road after what he had just accused me of.

"Death will be too easy a punishment for someone like you. Maybe I should leave you alone to live your pathetic life. But when I recall everything that happened in the past, all I want to do is strangle you," he gripped my throat again, blocking my air supply.

"I can report you to HR for harassment," I clawed at his hand, barely able to get the words out of my mouth while struggling to breathe.

"I would love to see you do that, and I would love it more to crush you. Whose words do you think the HR will consider, hmm?" He asked, "The business partner or the company whore? You don't have a stellar reputation, Ms. Williams, to get through with it."

I felt like someone mercilessly squeezed my heart in their palm. Logan called me a whore again! He had been there only for twenty-four hours and was versed in the rumors about me. Tears stung at the corner of my eyes, and even though I tried to blink them away, one traitorous tear rolled down my cheeks. His eyes stayed fixed on my face as he watched the tear fall on my shirt and then get absorbed in it.

Logan suddenly looked more furious than before; his nostrils flared, and his breath deepened. He glared at me with such hatred I thought that I might melt into a puddle at his feet from its intensity.

He pulled his hand away from my throat, took a step back, and then growled, "Get out."

I didn't think twice before bolting to the door and leaving his office, afraid he might change his mind and decide to harass me more. I went to the restroom and splashed water on my face, trying to calm my racing heart.

It was only the second day, and he had made me cry countless times in the last twenty-four hours. My heart ached at his ruthless behavior. Fixing my disheveled state, I exited the bathroom and went straight to the pantry to grab a water bottle.

Samuel was in the pantry, leaning against the counter and sipping coffee.

"You okay?" He asked, examining my face.

"I am good," I replied, trying not to cry.

Samuel was a good friend, and noticing the concern in his eyes, I was close to losing my restraint and breaking down.

"I heard about your Mom. How is she?" He inquired about Mom's health.

The reminder of Mom was all I needed to lose control of my tears. Tears welled in my eyes, and I let them loose.

"Fuck Tina," Samuel cursed, noticing me cry. Then he slammed his mug on the counter and sauntered towards me in two long strides.

"I don't know what to do, Sam?" I sobbed.

"The doctor suggested that I admit her into hospice care, where she will be taken care of by professionals along with her treatment. I have no idea how I will arrange the money," I poured my heart out to him.

I felt so lonely and helpless, with no one I could turn to for help. My father died years ago, and the family that I had left didn't care what happened to my mother.

"Hey, everything will be going to be fine. You have me and Joan; we can figure something out," Sam said, holding me by my shoulders and assuring me.

I had no idea how everything would be fine. I was almost broke and didn't even have the money to pay the bills of the hospital when they would discharge Mom. Where was I supposed to get money for the hospice care?

"The thought of losing Mom scares the hell out of me," my tears kept flowing, and all I wanted was someone to hold me and assure me that I wouldn't lose her.

That Mom would be okay, and she would get well; even though I knew it would be all a lie, I still wanted that lie.

Sam cupped my face with his hand, "She is going to be okay," he said determinedly.

I had no idea why I did it, but I buried my face in Sam's chest and, the next moment, wrapped my arms around his torso in a tight hug.