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Chapter Thirteen
Logan
Logan?
Why would he take me to see Logan’s body? It would be the worse type of torture. I couldn’t see him again, not without his warmth. The image of his blood coating my hands would be something I’d never forget.
“Please, if I knew what I was, I’d tell you. I can’t see him like that. Please.”
“Stop being so loud,” he whispered.
His voice was richer than Anderson’s, but his rough tone told me that if I kicked him again, he would spank me again.
This does not feel like a normal interrogation tactic.
Too confused to fight anymore, I went limp and let him carry me through the doorway. If he was using Logan’s body to hurt me, I would bite him, really hard, when we arrived.
We went through a series of metal doors. The scrape of metal against metal opening, closing, and locking behind us made me shudder. I memorized the number of doors, focusing on the hallways and turns that lead away from my cell. It seemed like two left turns before the series of doors.
He adjusted his arms, loosening his grip, before nudging me so I fit into the crook of his shoulder. The change in position eased some of the pain from his shoulder bone banging against my abused rib cage.
Then we started to ascend a staircase.
My new captor positioned his weight forward over his knees and leaned into the stairs. His boots made soft contact with each step as we ascended, and I started to count. His breathing stayed even as he effortlessly passed the fortieth step. The muscles of pine-tree man’s shoulders and chest were rigidly firm under my torso.
I swallowed quickly, trying to keep my stomach contents inside. If he wanted to hurt me, he could break all my bones. Anderson was strong, but this man could knock out Anderson in one blow from his corded arms. His hands felt enormous on my waist, but thankfully his body radiated heat. I had been so cold since leaving the desert. I thought my muscles would rip apart from the chattering. If he was so toasty warm, perhaps they didn’t keep where we were going like the icy depths of hell.
We made it to a landing sixty steps up before we went through another doorway. This time, the door didn’t seem as heavy as before. It opened softly with a slight click of the door jam, and then it locked behind us with an easy sliding of a deadbolt into place.
This room felt warmer than the cell, even than the stairwell. It was almost a comfortable temperature, even though only a navy sports bra covered my chest.
Will I be able to look at Logan’s body without ripping what remains of my heart out?
His hands quickly dropped from my waist to the back of my legs. The man tilted forward. Strong hands supported my back, and I slithered down the front of his chest.
I thought he intended to put me on my feet, but the blood that rushed to my head started to flow away at a rapid speed, and between the disorienting hood and position change, my balance wavered. My legs wobbled. I tilted forward. Bending my knees, I braced myself to fall to the hard ground.
The same strong hands encircled my chest and forced me backwards. “Let’s not break your face.” Smooth male sarcasm surrounded my head. His warm breath tickled the back of my neck. He leaned forward and eased me down onto a soft, cloth-covered bench. I could still feel the heat from his chest as he placed his hands on my shoulders.
The calluses on his palms moved roughly down my arms, brushing against my wrists.
I hissed at the contact with the raw skin and ripped my arms away, curling them into my chest.
He leaned closer, his form blocking light from above. Through the hood, I could only make out his shadow. Then rough fingertips gripped my forearms.
He was too close. I could almost taste the scent of pine trees on my tongue.
Warm air flowed over my raw wrists. The corrugated metal cuffs abruptly fell away.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” he said.
I nodded my head, still suffocating under the black material. The heat from his body ebbed away, and his boot steps padded in the distance. The door clicked open.
“Ten minutes. Any more, and they’re going to know.” The pine scent vanished and different boot steps entered the room, along with the smell of cinnamon and sand.
Logan. I thought his body would smell like blood, and maybe death.
Would the man cover his body, or would I see all of his wounds?
