Another Life

Part 11

The first thing I felt was the sunlight pouring in through the large windows, warming the room. I kept my eyes closed, savoring the softness of the silk sheets, the weight of Jean's head resting on my chest.

I let out a slow breath, sinking deeper into the mattress. Jean stirred beside me, her body temperature burning up against my skin. I could've stayed like this forever, tangled up with her in that bed, the rest of the world a trillion miles away.

The door busted open. My senses flared to life instantly, adrenaline shooting through me. My eyes snapped open, and I tensed, ready to lunge. Jean bolted upright beside me, gasping in surprise. Standing in the doorway was Scott, his face twisted in a mixture of shock and fury, his eyes burning with something that looked an awful lot like betrayal.

"What the hell is this?" Scott spat, his voice trembling with barely contained rage. His eyes flickered from me to Jean and back to me again, as if he was trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes with the back of my hand, not bothering to hide the smile that wouldn't leave my lips. I was still half asleep, my mind foggy, but I knew exactly what was going on. I knew exactly why he was here.

"Mornin', bub," I muttered, my voice rough. "You're up early."

Scott's hands formed into tight fists, at his sides, his jaw tightening. "I came to get my stuff," he growled. "Didn't expect to find you here, though."

"Funny thing about expectations," I said stretching my arms over my head. "They don't always line up with reality."

Jean looked between us, her face pale, her eyes wide. "Scott, please let it go," she said, her voice shaking.

But Scott wasn't listening. He was already marching across the room, grabbing clothes and other personal items, his movements full of aggression. His face was a mask of cold fury, his body tense, like a coiled spring ready to snap.

I could've let it go. Could've kept my mouth shut and let him do his thing. But that wasn't my style. Never have been.

As he turned to leave, his arms full of his belongings, I raised my hand lazily and flipped him off— only I didn't use my finger. I let my claws slide out instead, the sharp, metallic snikt echoing through the room.

Scott stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes narrowing. He looked at me like he wanted to say something— like he wanted to shout or scream or maybe even cry—but he didn't. He just turned on his heels and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him so hard the walls rattled.

"Classy," I muttered, retracting my claws and rolling onto my back again.

Jean looked at me, letting out a small laugh. "You really have a way with people," she said covering her face with hand as she laughed harder.

"Yeah, well," I said, "I'm a real charmer."

Jean sighed, running a hand through her hair. "You shouldn't antagonize him like that, Logan. He's hurt."

"So am I," I replied, my voice full of tired words. "Ain't going to apologize for that."

She didn't say anything, just looked at me for a moment. Then she nodded, leaning over and kissing me on my cheek, like she understood and wasn't going to argue.

"Get some more sleep," she said softly, lying back down on my chest. "We can deal with this later."

I rubbed the top of her head, closing my eyes again. But sleep didn't come easy this time. Not the way Scott was.

Scott's face flashed in my mind—angry, hurt, betrayed. I knew he wouldn't let this go.