For Hating Me You Sure Are Possessive

63: Romeo is Overrated

I woke in a frenzy, every nerve in my body waking up all at once. They screamed at me in a dull constant manner, a blanket of soreness covering my limbs. Logan hadn’t been kidding when he said he wasn’t going to be gentle. In fact, he probably should have warned me he was going to become a monster. That would have better prepared me for the night we had in store. He’d taken me time and time again like some madman on a mission to break me. Whatever natural stamina he’d built up from his playboy ways had been combined with the cocaine high, and the night had been a long one. A very very long one.

 I groaned gently, stretching my aching limbs out as I postponed opening my eyes for as long as I could. I didn’t want to see an empty room. I didn’t want to face the reality that I wouldn’t be seeing Logan again. I’d always known we would go out with a bang. . . I just hadn’t known it would be in such a literal sense.

Just thinking of him made my heart swell, and I rolled onto my stomach, burying my face into the pillow. If ever there was a time for crying it wasn’t now, it wasn’t here. Not while I laid in Logan’s bed, breathing deep breaths into his pillow. My body ached, yes, but so did my heart. If I broke down now I didn’t think I’d be able to stop myself. To be honest it scared me. I hadn’t had a good cry in a very long time, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to experience it just yet.

“If you’re going to kill yourself don’t make my pillow an accessory,” Logan’s voice nearly stopped my heart, “I happen to like that one.”

Slowly, as though afraid I’d imagined his voice, I turned my head towards it opening my eyes along the way. I was greeted with the image of him standing mid room, clad in nothing but a pair of boxers. His black hair was a wild mess, his hand up and scratching the back of his head as he stared down at me with a classic Logan smirk. I noticed right away it didn’t reach his eyes.

“I didn’t think you’d still be here,” I admitted, not able to keep the words in my mouth. The last time I’d woken up in his room he’d been gone.

As though he hadn’t heard he turned his back on me, snatching the plate of forgotten cheesecake from his dresser. “The shower’s open.”

“Oh, good,” I muttered halfheartedly. I didn’t know what else to say. Was this his way of kicking me out of the room now that the night was over? Moving carefully, testing out my sore muscles as I went, I eased myself to a sitting position on the bed. The moment the cool air hit my breasts I found myself frantically clutching the sheet to them. Not that he was looking at me in the first place.

Logan stopped, halfway to the door, before stooping down to snatch something from the ground. “Don’t forget to lock the door this time,” he suggested, pairing it with a wickedly playful smirk. I opened my mouth to respond, but was cut off by flying projectiles. A pair of boxers and a teeshirt of Logan’s landed in my lap, falling just short of hitting me in the face, and I looked up from them to him in surprise. He was giving me his clothes? Before I could ask where he was going he flashed me a dark look that stopped the words dead in my throat. “I meant it.”

With that he left, his threatening tone still hanging in the air.

I shook my head, no idea what was going on here. I didn’t want to jump to any conclusions. I would just have to wait and see how this played out. With Logan, if I waited long enough, things slowly revealed themselves. Until then I just had to hold my horses and not provoke any fights. That is, if I ever see him again. He’d seemed pretty set on kicking me out of his life. Not that I didn’t understand his reasoning.

I’d known the first day liking Logan was a dangerous thing to do. If I hadn’t I wouldn’t have lied to myself for so long. Something about Logan drew me to him. It was as simple as that. And yet it was so dangerous. His drug use, his illegal profession and the life he led. . . they all were so hard for me to handle. At any second something could go wrong. Not to mention his moods were even worse whenever he was under the influence of something. It was a world where I had absolutely no control over anything. It was a world that I’d have to deal with if I stayed with Logan. It was inevitable.