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Logan sighed heavily.
“Look, I know I should let you go, but I can’t yet. I’m sorry,” he apologized, wearing a shameful half smile.
“It’s all right, Logan. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I replied, hiding my disappointment. I didn’t want to upset him. Logan didn’t say anything further and left the room. I heard the door close and lock behind him.
I was alone and hurting. Conversing with Logan had helped hide the pain in my body. But now by body was really rebelling and I knew that Brent was my only cure.
CHAPTER 16
“Love means to commit oneself without guarantee, to give oneself completely in the hope that our love will produce love in the loved person. Love is an act of faith, and whoever is of little faith is also of little love.” – Erich Fromm
Somehow I made it through the day, but alone tonight was turning into a totally different story. I was hell-bent on wallowing in self-pity. My plan to tame Logan’s demons took so much out of me. My body trembled painfully. I missed Brent. How was it possible to feel this way so soon? Tomorrow would be seven days from the first time I laid eyes on him. How was it possible after such a short time to be so in love with Brent that it was physically painful to be away from him? Thinking back to my conversation with Omni, I recalled what he said about the importance of finding my match.
A match for you is your lifeline. Now that you have bonded, you’re sealed, with purpose. As long as you’re together you’ll feel the strength your seal provides.
Our seals needed the connection to thrive. It was the only conclusion that made sense.
My life, from the moment my parents died, felt like a never ending nightmare. I tried so hard to wake up to the warm San Diego sun penetrating my blinds, but continued my life in the darkness.
Oh jeez, get over it. My subconscious was scowling at me. Really, a man head over heels for you and a brother you never knew about. Opportunity, not darkness. Logan is the one living in darkness, so get over yourself.
While my subconscious was irritating as ever, she had a valid point. The darkness could be at Logan’s house right now. His father stumbling about, his mother shivering in the corner while Logan and his father shouted at each other, erasing any progress I made with him today.
Pushing away my negative thoughts, I rifled through the bag Logan had left for me. Inside were a variety of items including my toothbrush, change of clothes, pajama shorts with a matching tank, and my book. Obviously, he had been to my house. The thought really annoyed me. My heart softened and I suppressed a smile when I saw my parents smiling at me from the bottom of the bag. Logan was living a lie. This hate-filled evil layer was just an outside façade. Inside, he was a sweetheart of a boy who packed that photo knowing it would comfort me. And it certainly did. I was more determined than ever to eradicate the monster inside of Logan forever. I only hoped I had the courage to do it.
I changed into my pajamas noticing he also brought me a yoga mat and sleeping bag. I rolled it out and crawled inside, thankful Logan left enough rope that I was able to zip it up.
I started reading my book and part of me expected Brent to rescue me, bringing relief from the cramping in my legs when he touched me. My hopes faded with each turn of the page and I drifted to sleep.
I hadn’t been asleep long when I was startled awake. Fearfully, I heard the door slam shut and heavy footprints pounded down the hall approaching me.
My heart skipped a beat. Brent?
“Claire….” Logan’s gurgled voice came through the walls. “I need you, Claire,” he slurred.
Barely able to make out his alcohol-drowned words, I suspected his evening had gone exactly as I thought. He had drunken himself into a stupor to numb the pain.
Logan entered the room thundero
usly and I shrank back. He looked dreadful. His beautiful amber eyes were glazed over, swollen and red. He ogled me with a lopsided smile, plopping himself next to me on the floor, and whispered in my ear. “I missed you, Claire.”
The alcohol on his breath was so strong that I wondered if I wouldn’t end up intoxicated just from inhaling it.
“Logan, you’re drunk!” I scolded, while remaining zipped in the security of my sleeping bag.
“Yup, I am,” he slurred. “But I figured something out.”
I regarded him with my defenses on high alert before asking, “What would that be?
He leaned in close and my body flinched back. He slowly unzipped the side of the sleeping bag and eased up next to me until our bodies touched.
“I’m in love with you, Claire,” he admitted, sliding his hand under my sleeping bag, frightening me. I resisted the urge to crawl away so that I didn’t set him off.
Logan started kissing my neck. I felt chunks of ravioli in my throat burning as it mixed with bile from my stomach. “Logan, you’re not in love with me. You’ve just had too much to drink.”
“You’re wrong, Claire. I love you so much it hurts,” Logan argued, gripping my inner thigh and pulling it close to him, causing me to gasp. “See, you love me too,” he snorted.
Before I could push his hand away, he slid it up my thigh under my shorts, cupping my sex. His evil laugh was frightening, and I froze knowing he was violent when he was like this. My mind sought out a solution that wouldn’t anger him.
