Logan Chapter 21

-Emory-

I’m feeling pleasantly sore in certain key places when I head into the bathroom to… freshen up some. That ends when I see myself in the mirror, though. What… the fuck? The sex hair was expected, the swollen and reddened lips as well. What I didn’t expect was to look like some kind of pox victim. I have multiple love bites on each breast, one on my left hip, on the inside of both thighs in lines leading to my private area, and I’m sure multiple on my ass as well. All the aforementioned pale in comparison to the deep, purple bite on my right shoulder, just where it meets my neck. Is Logan some kind of vampire? Did he not have enough teething toys as a kid? Why didn’t I notice any of these happening? Probably the five thousand orgasms, Emory, I think to myself. Most of the hickeys are fairly benign, nothing I would complain about on their own, but the one on my neck…. He broke the skin. Am I going to have to get antibiotics for this? I had to have bled in his mouth- how did he not stop or gag or anything?

This step back from post- ravishing haze gives me an opening to think about a lot of things. Things like Logan always taking a deep breath after I notice I’m wet, like the flashing of the light across his irises in a way I’ve never seen before, things like the actual claws I convinced myself I didn’t see last night because we were… in the middle of things. The teeth would explain a lot about all these bites, too. Am I crazy? Or is it Logan? Is he… different somehow? Some kind of disease, maybe- but no. None of the ‘symptoms’ are constant. I’ve just caught flashes of everything, which is what has me leaning more toward me being crazy. Nobody can have claws like that one second and not the next. Not without a lot of noticeable effort, anyway. What if me being crazy is something he passed to me- from making out or something? Or maybe… did he drug me? Did he put something in my food last night? I have to get out of here. I have to talk this out with somebody not Logan. I hear a knock at the door.

“Little rose? You okay in there? Did you drown in the sink?” Oh, God, did I actually take too long or can he smell my fear, too? I swish more water around to sound more… innocent, I guess?

“I’m just fine!” Shit, I sound so strained. No acting awards for me. “Uh, just a little sore, you know?” There. Maybe that will cover any weirdness in my tone. My heart is pounding right now.

“I don’t know, Emory. You don’t sound fine. You really don’t sound sore, either. Can I come in? What has you freaking out in there?” Oh shit. Ok, I need to work up an exit strategy. It’s not like I could have gotten out of here without facing him at all. I should’ve thought of something to tell him before now. Apparently I was deliberating- freaking out- too long, because Logan heaves a deep breath and says “Babe? I’m coming in.”

I can’t remember if I locked the door before coming in, but it doesn’t matter because he just breaks it down. Like it was made of styrofoam. Of course, I panic even more at this event. Add super strength to the list of weirdness. But I knew that already! He carried me all over the damn penthouse last night like I was some kind of stick-thin supermodel and not… all that I am. That should have set off alarm bells all by itself, no matter how many ab muscles he has.

Suddenly, I’m facing Logan. He has put on some boxers since I last saw him, but that’s all. His nostrils are flared, but not because he’s breathing hard from demolishing the door. He glances around the bathroom, as if searching for a threat, but when he sees that I’m the only one here, his eyes flash in that eerie way again as they settle on me.

“Emory? Are you okay? Tell me what’s got you so afraid? You’re white as a sheet, little rose.” I just bet I am. I cast around for the most benign of the weird shit he’s been putting me through.

“You want to explain to me why I have a bite wound, Logan? The hickeys are one thing. They’re excessive but mostly normal. You broke my skin! Don’t you realize that bites from other humans are the most likely to get some kind of nasty infection? You had better believe I’m going straight to an urgent care for this, buster.” There. That should explain without exposing my sudden psychosis. I really should get checked out, too.

“Baby, it’s not as big a deal as you’re thinking. I just got caught up in the moment, and-”

“Caught up in the moment? Are you kidding me? You didn’t get un-caught when my blood flooded your mouth? Please, Logan. I just… I need to go.” I can’t believe I started an argument with him. He’s twice my size and clearly something is wrong with him. I should have just said something about being worried about condoms and getting a plan B. I need to learn how to be better under pressure, damn it.

Logan looks heartbroken. I’m sure he’s sad to be losing his chew toy so soon. “Emory, it’s really not what you’re thinking. I’m sorry I scared you. Sorry I’m still scaring you. I’ve been trying to tell you something for days now and I just couldn’t figure out how-”

“What, that you’re some kinda freakin’ vampire?” My twang is showing through more and more as my emotions run away with me. I wish I could have one argument without sounding like a hick.

Logan’s mouth twitches -asshole- as he takes a deep breath and says “Werewolf, actually. Usually we call ourselves wolf shifters, though. I would never have bitten you like that if you weren’t my mate, but you are and my wolf got a little… possessive. There are actually a few things I should tell you about that, if you want to sit down and maybe-”

“Really, Logan? You can’t be serious with me for one minute?” My voice is so shrill I’m hurting my own ears, but I can’t seem to stop as I duck under his arm and gather up my dress. I guess I’ll be doing a walk of shame, after all. I grab my once-favorite heels and hop my way into them, afraid to lose momentum before I get out the door.

“Please, little rose, I would never make fun of you like that. Just give me a few minutes, please! I’ll explain all of it, everything you need to know.” He’s walking slowly behind me, clearly trying not to crowd me as I make my escape. Somewhere in the far reaches of my mind, I appreciate that effort. It’s too little, too late for us, though. I’m thoroughly freaked out and absolutely livid that he would try some kind of bullshit about shifters on me. Cora and I will laugh together about this one day, but today I’m holding in tears. I’m more upset about the potential than anything- we were getting along so well - but I suppose that’s how a sociopath would work. I am getting so, so drunk tonight.

“Goodbye Logan. Don’t contact me or I’m charging you for assault.” He looks absolutely crushed, but he stops trailing me as I get to the elevator.

“At least let me have the car brought around for you, baby.” Like hell. No way I’m letting his employee report on the tears I’ll inevitably shed as soon as I’m out of his presence. Just a few more minutes, girl, I coach myself.

“I’ll catch a cab.” I tell him as the doors close. Once I’m alone, I heave a sigh that sounds suspiciously like a sob.