Logan Chapter 39

-James-

I slowly come back to myself as I set the paddle down and deal with the condom. Layla is still deep in subspace when I come back- laying compliantly where I left her. The only move she’s made has been to lay her head to the side so she can breathe as she lays across the bench I have her legs cuffed to. I uncuff her wrists first and rub the redness out of them where she couldn’t help fighting the cuffs. Her hands have been warm and peachy the whole time, so I know they weren’t too tight. After uncuffing her ankles, I pull her up and sit on the couch with her on my lap. We agreed to snuggle for aftercare, and I pet her hair quietly until she recovers enough to tell me that I gave her exactly what she needed and that I wasn’t too rough with her.

I’ve been experiencing dom drop more and more lately as my needs have crept to the more extreme. I’ve needed to offer more and more pain to keep control of myself and my wolf in between… sessions. It helps when the women I meet here reassure me afterward. I come here because the women’s needs match up with mine, and it doesn’t make me a bad person for fulfilling both of us. Maybe one day I’ll find someone I can have an actual relationship with and make it easier on myself. Once you’ve been with someone long enough, you know going in how far you can push them, you know their tells a lot more intimately than a stranger’s.

Once Layla and I come back to baseline, I set her on her way with some juice and a blanket. I take my phone off of ‘do not disturb’ to find messages from all of the guys- except for Logan, still- about some article that dropped. I pull up the group chat to catch up.

D: Hey guys, what the fuck is this?

D:hotteaonline.co/newwolfofwallstreet?/article38752

O: Since when do you read tabloids, Deek? What are you, my grandma?

D: Click the fucking link, Ollie. Our boy Logan went and got famous

O: Fine.

O: …

O: WHAT THE FUCK

O: JAMES, WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?

O: Has Logan checked in with anybody yet? I haven’t heard from him and he needs to get his PR on this before we’re all fucked.

D: I haven’t heard from him, either. People will be suspicious that he hasn’t clapped back already. Have you, James?

D: JAMES

Me: Sorry, I was on Do Not Disturb with a liaison. I haven’t heard from Logan either. Let me read the article and get back.

Me: Okay, so this is the worst case scenario we were thinking about last month. We need to find Logan and Emory and get them to make statements. Hopefully they’re back together at this point and just riding some fated mate high after the full moon. Oliver, do you have his brother’s number?

O: Give me 5, I’ll ask my PI.

O: Do you want the number or should I call him?

Me: Give me the number. I’ll call him and we’ll go from there. I have a feeling they’re still in Emory’s apartment. The file has her address, correct?

O: Yeah

D: Yes, it does.

Me: Excellent. I’ll keep you updated as the situation evolves.

D: Thanks man.

I do like to have control of most situations as much as possible. I hate calling it a need, because I can go without anything any time I want to- but if I’m truthful with myself, that’s what it is. I dial Landon’s number and hope he picks up even though mine won’t show as a contact for him. He doesn’t.

“Landon. This is Logan’s friend James. Call me back.” That should be enough to get his attention, as long as he checks his voicemail. Hopefully he’s already aware of the situation and Logan’s status. If not, I can check Emory’s address and range out from there. Logan’s wolf won’t let him go far. My musing is interrupted by my phone ringing. Landon is fast, at least. We’ll see if that means he knows what’s at stake.

“This is James. Landon?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Have you heard from Logan? Does he need me for something?” So he doesn’t know. No matter.

“No. What we have heard is that Emory’s friend put out an article hinting at the existence of werewolves with an attached video of pups shifting on your pack lands. Do you have an explanation for this?” There’s a reason Landon isn’t Alpha. He’s just not as responsible as Logan, doesn’t think things through as far as Logan does. He’s a nice enough man, but hotheaded.

“Fuck. I knew I’d regret talking to her. I kept an eye on her until she walked out the front door. I thought she got directly into her car, but apparently not. I haven’t heard from Logan in weeks. Please tell me you know where he is.” Useless.

“I do. But just having him back won’t make this problem go away, Landon. We have to discuss how we’re going to deal with the press, now. You dropped the ball on this, so you’re going to work on how to fix it. I expect a plan from you by the time I fix whatever your brother’s problem is. Get yourself together, pup.” I hang up before he can form a retort. I have no time to deal with incompetence right now. I have to get to Logan and figure out why he hasn’t been heard from in a month when he promised to keep in touch. It’s not like him to go off grid. Landon probably made it worse by making excuses with Logan’s assistant- Anna, I think? She’s a competent one. She would’ve gotten in touch with us before letting it go on this long.

I pull up Emory’s file on my phone. Oliver sent us all hard copies- I suspect his penchant for drama wouldn’t accept anything less- but I scanned it into the cloud as soon as I was able so I would have it with me. Times like these are exactly why I do that. I would rather not drive home from the office before heading to Emory’s apartment. They were on opposite sides of the city and I don’t have that kind of time on me right now. Every minute is precious in situations such as this.

Once my driver navigates evening traffic to the dilapidated neighborhood Emory lives in, I tell him to circle the block until I’m done. Parking anywhere near here will probably get my car stolen from him. I walk right into the apartment building, no credentials necessary, and troop up a disgusting flight of stairs to the third floor. If Logan has been spending time in this garbage heap, I’ll be amazed, but I didn’t smell him outside over the garbage and marijuana.

I knock at the door with the lighter spots left behind where the numbers 314 used to be, and hear a female voice call for me to wait, as well as the ticking of claws on tile. So this is where Logan has been. Why is he on four legs? When a pretty redhead peers around a door chain, I start to understand his recent psychosis a little better.

“Hello? I don’t know you. Why are you here?” Logan is barking happily in the background, trying to weave through Emory’s legs while his tail wags behind him. “What the hell? You hated the last man who came in here. Do you know my dog?” Oh hell. Is he stuck? I can’t imagine he would be comfortable being Emory’s pet rather than her mate. The leash on the door and dog food in her kitchen make for more damning evidence.

“Your dog just happens to be my best friend. Seems he’s stuck in his wolf form. Let me in so I can fix him, and I’ll give the idiot a crash course on communication and relationships. Back her up, Logan, and let me in.” Logan wedges himself between Emory and the door and leans against her until she has no choice but to back away.

“What the fuck? Logan? Wolf form? What the fuck?” Emory keeps stumbling backward, clearly in shock.

“Yes. Logan. I know he told you he’s a werewolf. This isn’t news to you.” I clear my throat so I can put as much power and dominance in my voice as possible. It can be hard to order another alpha. “Logan. Shift. Shift NOW.”