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I bit the inside of my cheeks until it was so painful that I remembered what I’d suffered with Logan was a billion times more. “You left. I heard the motorcycle—”
“I put it in the garage, out of the rain.”
“Well, I don’t want it in my garage.”
He ignored me. “We need to talk about this.” He reached for my hand; his eyes were downcast and glassy, yet hard.
Emotions I’d hidden away torpedoed to the surface. No. I don’t want this.
I shot for the house, but Logan was a fighter, quick and agile. He ran after me then snagged my hand, swung me back around, and trapped me against a tree trunk.
“You’re … scared and angry, and you’re entitled.” He stared at me, and I remained frozen, droplets of rain sliding down my cheeks. “Eme, I’m not here to take you away. I’m here to tell you what happened.”
“I was there, remember, I know exactly what went down.”
“No Eme, you don’t.” His eyes narrowed when I went to argue. I kept quiet. With Logan you learned when to pick your battles; this one wasn’t one of them. “Believing the shit you are right now is eating away at you.” How did he know that? “The truth, Mouse. You have to hear the truth. I couldn’t let Deck tell you anything until Raul was dead, it was too risky … And I wanted to tell you myself.”
I did realize that he helped me get out. It just wasn’t enough to erase everything else.
His arms caged me in as he leaned forward, his chest inches from mine, water droplets glistening on his tanned skin. He leaned closer, and I turned my head to the side. A spark ignited as his breath hit my skin just below my ear. A deep throbbing within me weakened my resolve to beat him with my fists.
“You are not shutting me out like you’ve done everyone else for the last two years.” How did he know that too? His lips were so close to my skin that if I took a deep breath they’d touch. Tears teetered-tottered on the edge of my lids.
“Don’t.” It was me begging, because I couldn’t tell him no any other way.
He tucked my wet hair behind my ear. “Eme, look at me.”
I sucked in air as his hand cupped my chin and brought my head forward to face him. I kept my eyes downcast, afraid to look at him and get lost within the chocolate depths. “Sculpt, you have to let me go.”
“Never ask me to do that.”
I stiffened and tightened my jaw as I ground out. “Nothing you say will make a difference. Not anymore.”
“I’m asking here.”
Logan never asked. If I gave him this would he leave me alone? “Say what you need to then I want you out of my life.”
He drew back, but still I could feel his breath on my face. “Raul—”
I stiffened and blurted out, “The man who had me waterboarded? Who dehumanizes girls? Who held a gun to my head? Are you referring to your fucking father?”
He grabbed me by the shoulders. “Yes, Emily. Yes. He was my father, but I didn’t choose him just like you didn’t choose your mother.” Okay, point, my mother was unkind and selfish who cared for nothing except her next drink. She didn’t even know what had happened to me, not that she’d care. “Do you think I didn’t want to shoot every single disgusting lowlife in there? Do you think I didn’t want to shove that fuckin’ gun down my father’s throat and pull the goddamn trigger?” I looked at my feet feeling vulnerable … fine, I was feeling very vulnerable. Logan was always in control, and right now with his brows lowered, his jaw tight and his voice raised, Logan was losing that control.
“Emily. Please. Look at me.” I did. “Everything that happened gutted me. I trained every morning to try and control the fury that was raging through me. So I didn’t get you killed by screwing everything up. Damn it, Eme. I need you to look at me while I tell you this.” I hadn’t realized I was staring down again. Really, I was trying not to listen. I didn’t want to hear what he was telling me. I’d managed just fine believing what I did, and I couldn’t handle changing it. “I’ve lived two years knowing you hate me.” He shoved away from the tree, from me, and ran his hands through his soaking wet hair. “Tell me. What else was I supposed to do? I did everything I could to save you.”
I lay my head back against the trunk of the tree and closed my eyes feeling sick to my stomach. I was confused and uncertain. His eyes were filled with this destructive blaze of anger that was … could it be pain? Was it real pain? Or was it a front? More lies.
I shook my head back and forth. No. No. Logan had watched. He’d done nothing. He’d driven me across the country to his father’s compound of hell. Why hadn’t he killed Jacob instead of driving me three days to Mexico? Dave had been his friend, he could’ve helped him. Why hadn’t he just taken me someplace else to escape? He was a fighter; he could’ve fought.
No. Logan was just as guilty as his father.
He walked back toward me and leaned forward, hands braced against the tree on either side of me. He put his finger under my chin and kept it there. “Baby.”
I wanted to run and hide. Forget he was ever here.
“My mother was Raul’s slave for seventeen years.” Oh God. My knees weakened at his words. I hadn’t even thought of Logan’s mother. “She became pregnant with me within a year of her capture. Raul wasn’t happy about it until I was born a boy. Then he made plans for me.”
“The fighting,” I murmured.
He nodded. “My mother tried to protect me from that shit you saw, Eme. But in a place like that, it wasn’t easy. I met Dave, and we both trained since we were five years old for the ring. That’s all we did. I can’t remember much else besides hanging out with Dave and fighting. We did go to school, but no one would talk to us. I imagine that was because of Raul. No one wanted to mess with anything of his.
