A Debt To Pay

10

For another three days, my routine was the same. I would wake up from a single thud against my door and chat happily with Gavin for ten minutes or so when he delivered the breakfast Logans kitchen staff had prepared.

I would then have an hour to wolf it down and get ready before Henry would arrive at 11 o'clock. He would snap at me until I agreed to change into the awfully slutty lingerie and he would then lead me to the office.

Logan wouldn't look up as he dismissed Henry and would order me to sit on his knee again like some little pet. I would shout some sort of objection and a sarcastic remark, he would threaten to sell me or torture me and I would eventually give in and sit, still trying my hardest to irritate him to prove I hadn't submitted to him.

I never would.

"Get up." He suddenly snapped at me, dropping his pen and stacking up his papers.

"Please?" I suggested, remaining exactly where I was.

"It wasn't a question, darling. Get up, now," he growled and I shuddered at his deep husky voice in my ear. If he wasn't the biggest asshole on the planet, I might've admitted he was extremely sexy but the blood on his hands and the scowl on his face was enough to put anyone off.

"You know, it would've been quicker to just say please, we could both be standing by now." I taunted, ever so slowly rising from his knee and turning to face him. The fact that he was still in his seat meant I could look down at him for once with my arms folded across my chest.

Mimicking my movements, he rose scarily slowly from the seat, as if to drag out the nerves that fluttered in my stomach from his intimidating stance. Once again, he towered a foot above me and glared down at me furiously.

"Do I need to remind you of the rules?" He growled.

A smirk crossed my face as I met his cold, dark eyes. "No," I answered with a smile, "my memory isn't the problem."

I expected him to yell or threaten me or something but he grinned. It wasn't a humorous grin in any way, but a malicious, sadistic grin that had my skin crawling. He leant closer to me, leaning down in a patronising way so his lips were mere centimetres from my ear.

"I am going to have so much fun breaking you," he hissed before grabbing my arm and leading me out of the room. I gulped as his words sunk in; I had no idea how strong I would be going head-to-head with Logan and I was less than willing to find out.

I decided it was safer to remain silent rather than retort with a sarcastic comment or insult that may actually get me killed. I had to pick my battles. I wouldn't let him win but pushing him was a dangerous game; if I kept pushing, he would start to push back.

He led me down the stairs and across the foyer to the room perpendicular to the front door. When he shoved it open, another office was revealed to me and I frowned.

"Why do you have two offices?" I questioned, observing the room. It was much bigger than the other, with no windows. At the far end was a large desk but unlike the other, there was no computer or papers on top.

A couple of guns scattered the surface and some knives and around the room were cases with whips and chains. My heart thundered when I finally laid eyes upon the dried red that was dripping down the front of the desk as well as the pool of it on the otherwise grey carpet.

"Logan...?" My voice came out as a broken whisper. This wasn't an office; it was a torture room. I felt myself shaking when he pushed me further inside and closed the door behind us. "Logan?" I tried again, waiting for assurance that he just wanted me to sit on his lap again.

He ignored me and pushed me over to a seat near the desk, forcing me into it and cuffing my hands to the arms. "Logan please," I begged him, fighting against the metal that held me in place. Tears started forming in my eyes.

I was going to die.

My whole body shook as he moved around the room, gathering different sized knives, a gun, whips and matches. What the hell was he going to do to me? I tried to speak again but my voice had escaped me, all I could do was gape at him.

Then, once he had all the materials he needed, he sat behind the desk and pressed a button on a phone. "Send him in," he ordered and then leant back, watching me out the corner of his eye.

I scrunched my face up, confused. Send who in? Surely if he was going to torture me, he would do it himself. Unless he was going to sell me? But then why did he need all the tools?

My questions were all answered a few seconds later when two guards burst through the doors with a large man squirming in their arms. He already appeared bloody and beaten and when his eyes landed on a smug looking Logan, tears gathered and he started to shake.

The guards forcefully dragged him to the centre of the room and strung his wrists up to the ceiling in chains, letting him hang limply. I watched him sob and plead with a dropped jaw, shifting uncomfortably in the chair as much as I could with these cuffs.

"Logan," the man sobbed, drooling onto the carpet as he did. "I don't know why I am here; you have the wrong person. Please Logan don't hurt me."

His tears dripped to the floor as Logan tilted his head and watched the man tremble with great amusement. Seeing him like this made me physically sick, watching his eyes light up while an innocent man cried and begged for his life.

"Logan what are you doing?" I asked him, struggling against my restraints.

He turned his gaze to me, smirking over at me. "You were the one that told me I should punish the person who stole your father's shipment and lost me my money. So I am," he explained and I watched as the man's eyes widened.

"I had no idea, Logan please. Please don't hurt me, I will pay anything. Tell me what you want and you will get it I swear," he sobbed in a pleading tone.

"Silent," Logan ordered and he snapped his mouth shut so fast I heard his teeth crack. He turned back to me with the same menacing grin. "Because you suggested this, you are going to watch. If you look away or close your eyes, I will make his death ten times more painful and slow."