by Karen Lynn
“I've gotta get to work. Call me!” Alicia smirked and rose to her feet, touching Kristen's arm. They exchanged knowing looks. Although she was filled with growing uncertainty, Alicia left them alone.
“Let's walk.” Logan crushed her hand in his, disregarding the cringing.
The warm water slapped her ankles as they trailed the shoreline, easing her anxiety. He peeked at her, his eyes narrowing. “Did you ever think about how powerful that ocean is? Even a good swimmer could be sucked under when its rough.”
“What? You came out to talk about the ocean? Really!”
He stopped dead in his tracks, the motion causing her to collide into him. He clung to her, pressing her to him. “What was so important that you had to run to her?”
“I didn't run to her! You know we always hang out on the beach.”
He had that crazed look in his eyes again.
“No, no, no. We had a discussion, you weren't happy about and what do you do? Of course—you run to your little savior! I'm not an idiot Kristen!”
“That's bullshit! Everything isn't about you, Logan.”
“What the fuck does she know about me? Huh?”
He wasn’t listening.
Her mind went blank, his face so close, it blurred before her eyes.
“Do you have to make a scene?” Panicked, her eyes darted around.
There were only a handful of kids in earshot. Her thoughts fell on his remarks about the ocean. A bitter chill seized her body. Suddenly she wished the beach was packed to capacity.
His eyes glinted in the sunlight. When he noticed her shuddering, they took on a contented gleam.
“Does she know about Ray?” he hissed in her ear, leaving his skin glued to hers while he waited for her response. It was the first time he had mentioned him by name. Stricken by terror, she struggled to free herself. Alicia’s warning played in her head.
Play his game…make your plans… “No! Leave me alone!”
“You know when I'll leave you alone, Kristen? Hmm?”
She didn't answer. Jerking her face away, she glared up at him. “When you give me your damn phone and prove you weren't' talking to Jake!” His hand stretched out to her. A despicable grin spread across his face.
“Fuck you!” she snarled, ignoring a cramp in her stomach.
“Bravo, great idea! Let's go.” He pulled her roughly towards the street.
JAKE
He had a son! The idea was inconceivable to him and he couldn't stop smiling or pacing. A celebration was in order so he grabbed a beer ready to roll. The urge to call his mother burned in his gut, followed by apprehension. He had to feel secure about his future when he told her about his son. A future with Kristen without interference or uncertainty. Otherwise, he was setting her up for disappointment.
What was he going to do about Ray? It had all been sorted out in his head. Now that he had Kristen’s address it would be easy to make Logan pay. That was before she told him they had a baby.
Exhaling, he sank to the floor, his back resting against the couch. She had concealed the birth from him for some reason. Maybe she was hoping Logan would accept him. The doubts were choking him. He guzzled down the beer, jumping up for another. Next week was too far off. He couldn’t take the waiting. Opening his laptop, he looked for flights to Miami. If he put it off any longer anything could happen. He couldn't take that chance. He couldn’t mess up again.
LOGAN/KRISTEN
Kristen refused to give him her phone. At first she thought he was going to strike her, and she was on guard, ready to retaliate. Instead, he stormed out of the room, leaving her sitting on the bed alone. She shook from burning rage and terror. Everything was happening at once, everything was crashing down on her.
He returned with a bottle of wine and two glasses. “Remember what you said to me downstairs?” he slithered towards her on the bed.
Suspicion played on her face as she looked into his eyes. They were smoldering dark blue now. She knew that look all too well. Pulling the blanket around her and clinging to it, she inched back.
“You said fuck me. So...” He ripped the blanket away, grabbed her legs, yanking off her shorts. “Go ahead, fuck me!” With heavy, strained, breaths he pushed her down destroyed her panties and climbed on top of her.
“No! I didn't mean that!” She clawed frantically at his back, yanking his hair.
“Bitch! You wanna fight? I'll give you the fight of your life!” he growled, grabbing her hands one by one, pinning them above her head and savagely crushed his lips to hers. “Keep your fucking secrets! But don't forget you're all mine!”
* * *
She couldn't stop crying. Her body wracked with violent sobs, her insides on fire. The room was dark, but she felt his presence. Unable to stand it any longer, she slipped out of the bed, ignoring the blood on her legs.
He watched her shadowy image disappear into the bathroom. Sighing, he placed his hands under his head laid back and enjoyed the comfort of the bed. Under normal conditions, he wouldn’t be drowsy after sex. This time it was different, his body drained of all energy. Only 11:00 p.m. Early for him. He fought the urge to doze off.
What’s taking her so long? Lifting himself up on an elbow, he glanced at his phone—11:30 p.m.
Did she sneak out again? Then it dawned on him. Oh, hell no! Not again!
He bolted out of bed, started to the bathroom, then decided against it. Instead he crouched in a dark corner, waiting. He would surprise her, take her, restrain her. This time, she would be sorry.
A few minutes later, he watched her emerge from the bathroom, make a cautious entrance into the bedroom and sneak across the room in the darkness. The faint glint of some kind of object reflected off of her hand. As she started to creep past him, he sprang forward, his arms grasping her body firmly from behind. His hands clamped her forearms flat across her chest. She screamed and dropped the metal object. It clattered to the floor. He kicked it out of reach.
“Not this time, Kristen,” he snickered, his breath hot on her neck.
“You bastard! I am going to kill you!”
She kicked, screamed, thrashed as he lifted her off the ground. He carried her to the bed, flinging her onto it, then ran back to pick up the scissors from the floor. She lay curled under the blanket sobbing when he approached her.
“What were you gonna do this time, slit my throat?” His eyes burned with twisted desire. Yanking the blanket viciously, he grabbed a fistful of her hair and held the scissors to her face.
“Do it, you asshole! End my fucking misery already!” she screamed at the top of her lungs as the tears spilled down her face.
With a loud groan, he shoved her back against the bed. “Fuck you! I'm not getting locked up because of you! You're the stupid one!” He lowered the scissors, peering down at her. His eyes softened “What's wrong with you?”
She glanced up at him. “What's wrong with me? You rape me and ask me…” she buried her face in the pillow, sobbing.
“I didn't rape you! You're my wife, you wanted it.” He snickered, stroking her hair.
She slid to an upright position. Her mouth dropped wide in astonishment, she shook her head. “You really believe that, don't you? You think you own me! You're fucking unbelievable!”
“I never said that.” His gleaming eyes, told the truth.
“Yes you did! I told you I can't have sex yet, and you forced me! Don't even touch me!” She slapped his hands away, rolling onto her side into a fetal position.
“If it wasn't for Alex, I would slit your throat! You know that?” She bolted upright again, her face bright red with anger. “You deserve it!”
Struck by a strange mixture of amusement and shock, a strained smile played on his lips. The sight of her face right in his, her eyes alive with hate and challenging became unbearable. Aroused beyond belief, he fought the urge to throw her down and screw her again.
“Thanks. It's great to know you love me.”
She sucked in her lips, lookin
g away. He watched her closely, his eyes glimmering.
“You hate me that much?” He took the opportunity, hovering closer.
Little tremors trickled through her body as she stared at him in silence. Holding her face gently, he kissed her long and deep, sucking every bit of willpower, energy and motivation out of her. When he let her go there was nothing left but unendurable numbness.
* * *
She had no idea how much time had passed. The first thought in her mind, she was trapped in a nightmare, vanished as soon as she realized the stabbing pains in her stomach were real. Even when she turned on her side and crushed the pillow against it, they were excruciating.
Wait! The deep breathing technique... it’s supposed to ease the pain.
It didn’t. Logan's peaceful breaths continued breaking her concentration.
“Logan, Logan…wake up!” She poked and pushed him.
“What?” he grumbled refusing to open his eyes. She didn't let up until he did. “What's wrong?”
“I don't know. My stomach, it's killing me.” She collapsed on the bed, curling up in a ball, her face contorted in pain.
Groaning, he turned on the lamp. Her chalk-white face startled him.
Shit! Why does this always have to happen?
“Should I get you something?” Her violent shivers shook the bed. He tossed a second blanket on top of her.
“I don't…know. Maybe... the hospital.” She fought to get the words past her chattering teeth.
A look of panic crossed his face.
What if it is because of the sex? No—it’s not my fault.
Pushing the idea out of his head, he crawled out of bed to get dressed. It was 1:00 a.m.
* * *
The intercom blasted, jarring her awake. The disorientation was so overpowering, she couldn't remember what happened or where she was. Then the gradual replay of events began in her head. The vague recollection of rushing to the hospital. The pain. The blood. She tensed her arms, desperate to push herself up. A sharp pinch in her hand forced her eyes down to the intravenous needle jutting out of her vein.
I can’t believe this! Why can’t I just die?
She slumped back against the pillow, too exhausted and miserable to sob. Logan slowly came into focus. Squinting her eyes, she stared at him, struggling to put the pieces together. Hot tears trickled down her face.
This is all his fault. I am back in the hospital because of him.
“Where's Alex?” Sitting hurt too much. She gave up and fell back onto the pillow.
Shocked, his eyes popped open. His instincts told him to flee, the whole situation too much for him to handle. He didn’t want to answer, but the words slipped out. “He's still in that intensive care place.”
A flicker of recognition sparked her eyes before they closed again.
“Is he okay?” she whispered, pulling the blanket up higher around her head, unwilling to let his voice or image continue to poison her. The touch of his hand sent chills through her aching body. “I need to see him!” She began sobbing.
“Kristen, please... calm down, he's fine. Worry about yourself—”
“—Like you? You did this to me!” Her eyes flew open.
Repelled by her words, he inched back, his nervousness increasing the longer he absorbed the hate burning in her eyes.
“You forced me…” her words choked in her throat.
Bending down next to her, he resorted to pleading. “Please, Kristen, please don't say that.” His eyes darted to the closed door. “Do you want me to get arrested?”
She kept her mouth shut with an agonized pout on her face. He waited, his eyes anxiously glued to her.
“You know I didn't mean it, I told you I'm sorry.”
“Get me another blanket.” Her voice was emotionless. Becoming frantic, he ran around the room searching for one, then gave her a helpless shrug. “Tell the nurse!”
He didn't want to confront any of the staff for fear they'd find out, but had no choice. The intake person had asked countless questions already. He was sure they suspected him.
A few minutes later, he returned with an overworked-looking little nurse lingering in the doorway.
“You need another blanket?”
When Kristen gave her a weak nod, she wrapped it around her and whipped out a thermometer.
“What's wrong with me?” Kristen asked her after she removed the thermometer from her temple.
“You can ask the doctor in a little while. You have a fever right now, but it's going down. Possibly an infection. We're running some tests. Just try to relax.”
The nurse glanced at Logan hunched over in the corner, frowned and left the room. They were alone.
He rushed to kneel by her side, his eyes large, begging. “You’re not gonna tell them, are you Krissy?”
She buried her head in her hands, sighing in exasperation.
Ugh! He is intolerable!
“You have my bag, my phone—where are they?”
With another look of surprise, he pointed to the nightstand next to the bed.
“Give me my phone.” She glared at him, immediately texting Alicia after he handed it to her.
“If they keep me here, you're not touching my stuff, you understand?” Her eyes were on fire with hate. She turned her back on him. “You can leave. I can't stand looking at you.”
Sighing, he collapsed onto a chair, hiding behind the hair cascading across his face.
Screw it, I’m not going anywhere. She’ll come to her senses and get over it.
CHAPTER 12
SATURDAY, WEEK 11
JAKE
Even though it was an impulsive, last second decision, Jake believed it was a rational one. He would drive his truck instead of flying to Miami. It had low mileage, extra seats for the baby, and would easily hold his canvases, art supplies, and all of his and Kristen's stuff without a problem. Besides, he'd save a lot of money, and every penny counted. He was a father now. It was important to be frugal and responsible.
One of Franky's good friends would sublease his apartment since he had no idea when or if he'd be back. After hastily finalizing the details he ended up including the furniture. Now he'd have extra money to count on.
At first he wasn't going to tell Franky the truth, then broke down. Franky’s strange reaction and suggestion about doing a paternity test rattled him a little. Then he shrugged it off. There was no room for negativity. Things seemed to be falling into place finally, and he was pumped up and ready to go.
If he stopped once, he could easily make it in two days. If he drove straight through, it would take a little over twenty-seven hours. Franky would fly out on Sunday and they could meet up the following week and take care of business. By that time, he hoped to have everything settled with Kristen. There were a million things they had to talk about, work out, and take care of. But they had all the time in the world.
When he stopped for gas he battled his will about calling her. Something told him a surprise visit was crucial. She expected him some time the following week. He was just so damn anxious to talk to her, it was hard to resist. After he set his coffee cup in the holder, he dialed her number. It went straight into voicemail. Disappointed, he tried to forget about it, and headed back to I-95. After a good eight hours of driving, maybe he'd find a motel and crash for the night. Probably she'd be available to talk by then. With a final stretch and glance back at the New York City skyline, he hopped back in his truck and took off.
KRISTEN/LOGAN
The doctor's words didn't register. Her mind was blank, or broken, she couldn’t decide which. Either way, she couldn't focus or function.
“Kristen, you need to take deep breaths and calm down. Do you hear me?”
The doctor stared at her. Kristen slowly came back to earth, sensing the only way to get rid of her was to agree.
“How long will I be here?” she managed to get out in a hushed voice.
“Your fever is much lower, so if you continue to stabilize an
d eat, probably by Monday night. That's assuming the infection doesn't flare up. Right now, it’s under control. But if you continue ignoring the instructions and have intercourse again, you could be facing very serious health issues. Do you understand? Both of you?” The doctor turned her attention to Logan, who lurked in the corner pretending to be invisible.
“Mr. Holder?” The doctor stared him down, unwilling to let him off the hook.
He nodded, grunting something unintelligible in response. Distracted, Kristen looked over at him, her expression souring even more. How long has he been here? So far she'd succeeded in forgetting he existed at all and desired to keep it that way.
“When can I see my baby? That's all I care about.” Wincing she straightened up as much as possible without causing excessive discomfort.
“Later. A nurse will bring a wheelchair, but you can't hold him until your fever breaks. Do you understand? No touching at all.” Once again, the doctor’s mouth set in a grim, thin line.
Kristen began to cry, her muffled sobs causing Logan to cram his eyes shut. When that didn’t work he brought his hands up to his ears, about to cover them, when it dawned on him. The doctor was still present.
“I know it's hard, but if you'd refrained, this wouldn't have happened. He's progressing very nicely and should be able to be released next week also. If you don't break the rules, okay?” The doctor’s eyes unexpectedly showed some compassion as she looked from one to the other.
They both nodded.
“You have to remember you had a major procedure and have to heal inside and out. No more impulsive actions, okay?” The doctor patted her shoulder as if she'd saved the day, and left the room.
Logan didn't know where to hide his face. Kristen’s poisonous gaze tore into him.
At least she didn't say I raped her. I’m off the hook, for now.
He took cautious steps. Cat-like she watched every move. He took a chance and sat down on the bed. “Thank you.”