Page 41 of Deadly Games


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Get off!

I can’t breathe.There’s something pressing down on my chest, squeezing the life out of me.

I cringe at hearing and feeling heavy breathing in my ear.

My body is covered in a cold sweat. I feel anxious, scared, and everything inside me feels uneasy.

*** *** ***

I’m going to be sick. I can feel it rising in the back of my throat.

“Urgh, for fuck’s sake,” is growled.

CHAPTER TEN

Oh God. How much did I drink last night? My head feels like a bunch of miniature robots have taken a hammer to the inside of my skull and are having a party.

I try to gain some composure, keeping my eyes closed and my breathing steady. I’m sure I’m about to be sick or I have been sick, because there’s a vile, bitter taste in my mouth.

Once the dizziness subsides, I notice all the aches and pains running through my body, and I stiffen.

I don’t get a chance to question the stinging sensation between my legs because the hard body currently wrapped around me and cupping my breast ? my verybarebreast ? takes precedence.

A wave of nausea swirls in my stomach, my breathing becoming shaky and heavy.

Oh God, I’m naked.

So very, very naked.

Finding the courage, I open my eyes. The fear I felt earlier only increases, and I throw the arm off my breast. I rush from the bed, unsteady on my feet. I try to fight the wave of dizziness as I drag the bedsheet with me, keeping my body covered.

“Babe?” Logan croaks, sitting up in bed and pulling on a pair of boxers.

You’d think hearing my best friend’s voice would soothe my fears, calm my raging nerves, but it doesn’t. It only spikes the fear I have running through my veins. Hearing him speak makes my stomach roll.

“Logan?” I question, tears running down my face. I’m so confused. My mind is muddled with chaotic thoughts.

What is going on? Why is this happening?

Logan gets up from the bed, scratching his bare chest, without a care in the world. I have to look away, bile rising in my throat, my body shivering. That’s when my gaze falls on the visible blood splatters on the bedsheet. A strangled cry leaves my mouth.

“Willow? What’s wrong?” Logan asks me, concerned, as he steps towards me.

I take a step back, which startles me. It was a gut reaction, one I’ve never had with him before, or with anyone, if I’m honest. It scares me. It scares me so much I can barely get my next words out.

“What?” I cry, my throat tightening. I have to swallow down bile as I point to the bloody sheets. I clear my throat, still unable to look at him. “What happened? I don’t understand.”

His eyes scrunch together, looking to the bed and then back to me—which confuses me more. Does he not know either? But he seems so calm, like waking up with his best friend naked is a regular occurrence.

“You don’t remember?”

“No, I don’t remember,” I shout, my voice shaking. “What happened, Logan? Why have I woken up naked in your bed?” I ask, my voice turning hysterical. Somehow, I manage to get it all out without throwing up.

Even though I’ve asked him what I want to know, I already know the answers. I guess I’m just holding out hope that this is all just some bad dream or that I was sick all over my clothes and that’s why I’m naked.

“We slept together,” he states casually, but I notice a hint of sadness, like he’s broken because I don’t remember.

I shake my head. “No,” I tell him adamantly. “No. I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t. I know I wouldn’t.”

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