by K. L. Savage
“I’ll only need one to finally put you where you belong. Six-feet under, just like your dad.”
I lift my fist, because I want to relish in taking the man’s life, and slam it across his face. “I’m nothing like him.”
“Logan!” Juliette’s voice is music to my ears and the distraction I don’t need. The sheriff takes the time to tackle me to the ground. “Logan!” I hear her cry for me, and it surges power in my muscles, in my veins, and for the first time in my life, I use love for fuel instead of hate.
And it gives me more strength than rage ever did.
22
JULIETTE
I watch in horror as Logan gets tackled to the ground. Derek lifts his fist and throws the heavy punches into Logan’s face. Even from here, I can hear the flesh against flesh and see the mental rage in Derek’s eyes as he beats Logan. He’s no longer my father, the man who raised me. He’s the enemy. A vile, disgusting being who doesn’t deserve his next breath.
The crowd is quiet as a large man wearing a Ruthless MC cut aims the barrel of his gun at a man in the front row, then points at the man in the second row. People notice they are no longer reaping the benefits of the horrid event and are about to fall victim for supporting such a vile act.
Logan kicks Derek and goes to plunge the screwdriver in the enemy’s head when the psycho who raised me knocks it out of Logan’s hands.
“We need to get you out of here, come on.” Tim tries to push me through the back door, but I plant my feet. Trixie is tugging on my arms, giving me a pleading look to listen to Tim.
“I’m not leaving Logan. Why aren’t they helping him? What kind of brothers are you?” I push Tim’s sweaty chest.
“It’s personal with Logan. He told us not to interfere.”
“I’m not leaving without him, and that’s final,” I snarl, pushing Tim away from me along with Trixie. I run to the ring, and Derek grins at me when he kicks Logan’s side. “Logan!”
“Aw, what is it, pumpkin? Does this bother you?” He kicks Logan again, flipping him onto his back.
I cup my hands over my mouth and watch as Logan struggles to get to his hands and knees, only for Derek to slam his boot into Logan’s ribs again. Logan’s hand reaches for his screwdriver, and Derek doesn’t notice since his eyes are locked on me. Logan moves quicker than I thought he could and rams the weapon in the sheriff’s thigh, causing him to cry out and fall to the floor, clutching his leg.
“How does that feel? Soon you’ll meet the same death as your fucked-up stepbrother, and I can’t fucking wait to be the one to do it.” Logan stands on his strong legs, his wide chest heaving as he stares down at the sheriff. He bends his knee and kicks with so much force, Derek’s head slams back, and blood gushes down his face.
And still the man laughs. “Is that all you got?” Derek rams an elbow in Logan’s side, and the screwdriver tumbles to the ground, rolling away to the end of the ring where the fence meets the plywood.
As Logan fights with the crook, I drop to my hands and knees and crawl toward the screwdriver. My eyes lift to check my surroundings, and Reaper looks from me to Logan with saucer-wide eyes. He takes a step forward to get me out of there, but I shake my head, telling him to stay where he is. He doesn’t look happy. He looks fucking pissed. It will be worth it soon. The closer I get to the screwdriver, the faster I crawl.
Blood drips from it in thick strings. My stomach rolls when I think about having to wrap my hand around the slick blood on the handle, but I have to. I turn my head and see Derek staggering. Both him and Logan are exhausted, circling each other to prepare for the final strike.
I snatch the screwdriver within my grasp, and sirens wail in the distance causing panic. Logan takes advantage of Derek’s distraction and punches him again. Logan has his back turned toward me as I get to my feet, and his shirt is wet with sweat from the humidity and exertion. Derek’s eyes land on mine, and he smiles, teeth bloodied and broken. The man who threw me all the birthday parties, held me while I cried, told me bedtime stories, made dinner, and went shopping with me, looks at me with so much hate, and all the memories I have turn to dust. He betrayed me.
He betrayed other women. Women he was supposed to keep safe and protect. He’s the sheriff; it’s his job.
And he failed, miserably.
I charge at him with all the fucking hate I can muster. My heart feels like it’s been taken over by something evil, something dark, and whatever it is numbs my brain. All I can think about is killing him myself. I hate him. I hate him so fucking much.
“You don’t have it in you!” he shouts, spitting a wad of blood on the floor.
Logan turns around on a quick spin, and he tries to stop me, but he reaches for me too late. My piece of shit father realizes that I do have it in me, and he tries to plead for his life, but there’s no stopping it.
I sink the sharp screwdriver between his eyes until the damn tool comes out on the other side of his head, getting locked in the fence. He moves his mouth to speak, and his eyes look up to mine. I bend down, giving him the same twisted grin he gave me when he locked me in the cell. “It looks like I do have it in me, Dad,” I sneer the name, the endearment he took for granted, and watch his pupils go wide as the last of his breath leaves his lungs.
Logan spins me around and hauls me to his chest, his hand burying in my hair. He picks me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist. “You’re real. You’re here,” my voice stutters and breaks as my body quakes from the adrenaline.
“Of course, I’m here. I love you,” he tells me. “I love you so much. I’ll do anything for you, little sparrow, even if it means setting you free from a cage.”
“I love you too.” I know I’m about to break, about to cry about what I had to do, but Logan pulls away and cups my face.
His face is a mess with sweat, dirt, and blood. “I never wanted you to have to do that. I wanted to do it for you. I wanted to kill him. I never wanted you to feel that.”
“Feel what?”
“All that hate,” he says. “It’s poison.”
I lay my hand over his heart, the one carved into his chest and nod. “But the cure to that is you, Logan. It’s love. Your love.”
He smashes his lips against mine as the police enter the door. Logan breaks the kiss and snatches the screwdriver out of the sheriff’s head and tucks it in his pocket.
“This is what happened,” Badge starts to explain to the cops, and Logan leans his forehead against mine.
“Let’s get you home,” he says.
I lay my head on his shoulder and then gasp, sitting up when I remember Tyrant. “Oh god, Tyrant! He died. He tried to—”
“I got him in time, Juliette. He’s okay.”
I hold back tears of relief because I know if I break, I won’t stop crying for hours. I can’t believe I just killed a man. One by one, the police arrest the people in the crowd, taking the scum away that supports things like this. It’s disgusting. It’s hard to believe that people will do something so despicable for money.
“Where are they going?” I ask an hour later as all the cops leave.
“Badge asked for a favor. We’re going to take care of the house. The women are safe and on their way to the hospital, along with my mom.”
“She was nice,” I tell him. “I hate I had to meet her that way.”
“Me too.” He places a soft kiss on my forehead, and nothing has ever felt better.
“I didn’t get to cut out his tongue,” Tongue pouts.
“So go,” Reaper says to him.
“He’s dead. Where’s the fun in that?” Tongue marches away in an angry tantrum, and the guy who calls himself Boomer runs out of the house.
“Oh shit,” Logan picks me up and swings me into his arms, and everyone moves across the street, behind the bikes.
“What?”
“You’ll see.”
“Everyone, get back!” Boomer shouts. As he runs, the first few explosions rock the ground. Flames engulf the house of
nightmares along with black smoke. “Wait, that’s not all!” He rubs his hands together and counts, “Five, four, three, two,” and he points to the house right as fireworks jet through the air, whistling and popping as they make their way toward the starry sky and explode into beautiful crackles of different colors. Boomer jumps up and down and looks at us for confirmation. “It’s good, right? I’ve been playing around with a few things, and boom. It’s pretty great!” He watches the fireworks go off one by one with fascination.
I don’t have it in me to be happy when I know I killed my dad, and his body is inside burning in the heat of hell.
“You okay?” Logan asks, moving my hair off my shoulder.
“I don’t know.”
“Let’s go home and get some rest. We aren’t needed here anymore.” Logan picks me up in his arms and carries me to the truck. Exhaustion finally hits, and I lean my head against his shoulder, closing my eyes just for a second.
One quick little second.
I’m jostled awake when Logan carries me through the clubhouse door. “We’re here,” he says, kicking the door shut with his foot. Only a few guys are here, and I don’t recognize them, but since Logan isn’t worried about the men, I’m not either. He opens up the door to his room, and Yeti is curled up in his dog bed, snoring and not even waking up when we close the bedroom door. “Tyrant has to stay at the vet for a few days, but he’ll be back soon. Maybe when you’re up for it, you’ll move in here with me. I’ll build you your dream home on the property, away from the party of the clubhouse.”
I’m not sure if I’m dreaming this or not. It sounds like I am. I’m so drowsy, and I can’t decide what’s real and what’s a dream.
“That sounds perfect.” Whether it’s a dream or not, I have to say yes.
“Yeah?” He pushes my hair out of my face and smiles.
“Yeah, Logan.” I lean into his touch and sigh, feeling relieved. I shouldn’t feel that way, but the world is a better place without my father in it.
“I know what you did is hard to wrap your head around, and if you ever want to talk about it, I can relate. It took a long time for me to realize that real love is so much stronger than hate. I didn’t think it was possible, but then I met you, and you shook me up, little sparrow. You shined a much-needed light on the darkest part of my soul.” He leans in and gives me a slow, languid kiss. It isn’t the kind of kiss that gets the body roaring to a lust-burning level. It’s the kind that soothes havoc, that slows the wild heart and the hurting mind. It’s the kind that reminds me that reality can be so much better than fantasy.
It’s the kind of kiss that I never want to end.
Logan is slowly possessing me, but he isn’t the demon—he’s the archangel, and he has rescued me from the devil. He thinks he’s my damnation, but Logan is my salvation, and I know I’ll be protected at all costs. He’s right and wrong. A mixture of a saint and a sinner. The man who realizes that sometimes you have to do something bad for the greater good. He’s the calm and the storm. The rage and hate. The love and the passion. He’s a killer and a lover.
He’s the kind of man a woman should never invite between her legs, but once she does, she’s addicted, regardless of the blood he’s bathed his hands with.
He’s made me realize there’s a difference between a demon and the devil. A demon slowly takes over your body until you don’t know who you are anymore. The devil takes and steals and doesn’t care who he hurts in the process as long as he achieves his goal.
Logan is both.
He’ll do anything to have me, even though he’s already possessed me. The silky strands of love with the barbed thorns of bad intentions create Logan.
I’ll take that kind of man over any other kind.
He’s everything.
23
TOOL
I wake to the sound of Juliette screaming and begging for her life. I reach toward the lamp and turn it on, and my eyes wince on instinct from the quick burst of light. I don’t care about the small inconvenience, not when I see her breaking out in a hot sweat, her skin slick and shiny, and her eyes pinched. She tosses and turns, clutching the sheet to her chest as she tries to fight off the attacker in her dreams.
“Juliette!” I raise my voice in hopes to penetrate her dreams. I grab her by the arms and shake her.
“Logan!” she sobs, still not waking up, and my heart clenches that she can’t hear me.
“I’m here, little sparrow.” I bring my lips to her ear and whisper, “I’m here. You’re safe. I love you. You’re safe. Wake up.”
Yeti cries when she doesn’t listen to me. I feel his pain. I hate this. She’s crying out for me to save her, but I’m here. I’m right fucking here.
“Juliette,” I yell her name and shake her again, this time picking up her body before slamming it down on the bed. I’m careful not to hurt her, but she has to wake up.
Her eyes finally snap open, and they’re glossed over from the nightmare. Sweat beads above her top lip, and her chest is rising in hard, frantic rhythms.
“Logan,” she gasps my name, and I run my knuckles down her cheek, smiling in relief.
“Hey, you’re safe. You’re here with me,” I place her hand on my chest to feel my heart, and she breaks down, the entire event finally slamming against her. I hold her as she clutches me for dear life, as if I’ll vanish into thin air.
She buries her face in my shoulder, and her tears wet my sore skin from the fight I had with her father. I have a few cracked ribs and a swollen cheek, but it’s a small price to pay to have her in my arms again.
Her lips press against my shoulder, and I stroke her hair with my hand, crooning that everything is going to be okay. Our past is officially laid to rest and now all we have to do is build our future. Her mouth moves up my neck, pressing wet, desperate kisses along my jugular. She pants in my ear, and the needy sounds drive me over the edge. I want her more than anything, but I’m not sure she’s all there mentally right now.
“Juliette, you’re shaken up,” I say as she kisses down my chest, paying extra attention to the purple bruises along my ribs.
“I need to feel you, Logan. I need you, please.” She drops to her stomach and yanks the sheet from my waist to reveal my erection curving up my belly. “Don’t deny me,” she says. “I need this. I want to erase—”
I put my finger to her lips. “Take what you need from me, little sparrow. I’m always here for you.”
She doesn’t hesitate. She wraps her lips around my cock, and her tongue flicks the piercing through my crown, and my back bends off the bed. No woman I’ve never been has played with my piercings. They usually ignore them and pretend they aren’t there because they’re intimidated.
Not my Juliette.
She strokes her tongue over the Jacob’s ladder, and the rods rub deliciously against my shaft. I tangle my hand in her hair as she peeks those beautiful green eyes at me, watching me, watching her lips stretch to accommodate me.
I notice that we like to watch each other, and it gives me an idea to put a mirror on the ceiling in the house we’ll have together one day.
Juliette tries to take me to the root, but she gags, clenching her throat muscles around my cock. I moan, thrusting my hips off the bed from how fucking good it feels. “You better stop, little sparrow. I’m going to fill that mouth.”
She shakes her head but keeps sucking me.
“No? I can’t hold back. You better get off.” I try to warn her, but she grins around the mouthful of cock. “Juliette!” I shout her name, and it comes out more as a whine because I need to fucking come now. My balls are aching, and right when I’m about to fill that wicked mouth, she pops off me and straddles me, thrusting herself down on my sensitive cock with one stroke.
“Oh, fuuuckk,” I groan, throwing my head back as I release my cum inside her willing cunt. “Fuck, oh, fuck, yes.” My toes curl from how amazing the switch from her mouth to her hot sheath feels.
“That’s where I needed you,” sh
e whimpers, and the erotic sound has me snapping my eyes open to look at the goddess rutting her hips against me. My hands fall to her waist, following the smooth motions of her body with my arms as she uses me. Her entrance is wet, slick from my cum, and as she grinds against me, I thrust up, so she gets more of me while her clit gets a small tease from my pelvis.
I sit up, wrap one arm around her waist, and take her mouth in a desperate kiss; my attempt to suck the soul from her body to become one with mine. I swallow her greedy whimpers and feed my desire as she rides me.
“You’re so beautiful.” I run my hands over her heavy tits, before moving to her neck and gripping the back of it. I look down to watch her body swivel. “I can’t believe I get to be inside you.” I don’t mean to say that out loud, but I’m so enamored by the thought of a woman like Juliette, so good, giving her body to me to take care of. And I swear, I’ll always take care of her. I flip her onto her back and lift her leg around my waist, driving as deep as I can into her pussy.
“Yes, Logan. Logan, harder.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
In a quick move I’m not expecting, she grabs the screwdriver from the nightstand and places it underneath my chin. “I said to fuck me. I’ll let you know if you hurt me.”
The threat and her feisty nature make another orgasm threaten, but a growl builds from the challenge. I knock the screwdriver out of her hand and carefully grab the part of her arm that isn’t bruised, pin it to her chest, and flip her over onto her stomach. Without warning, I drive into her tight cunt, causing her to cry out in pleasure. I keep her head tilted to the side, showing the long elegant curve of her neck, making sure me and everyone else in this house can hear her screams.
“Like this? You like being fucked by my cock, don’t you?” I slam against her as hard as I can, moving the bed forward. The headboard bangs against the wall. “Look at you, taking me so good. Fuck, Juliette. This pussy is perfect.” I don’t know where I find the energy to fuck her like this. Her ass jiggled with every quick thrust, and my sack slaps against her folds, trying to find her clit.