Torn from You (23 page)

Silence.

I could
hear the slow drip of the tap in the kitchen sink.
Drip. Drip.
Drip.
It was driving me
mad, and I was quickly becoming unravelled as he just stood there
not saying anything.

Damn it. I
strode over to the kitchen sink and pushed the tap all the way
down.

Silence.

My hands
gripped the edge of the counter as I kept my back to him, and if my
fingernails could penetrate marble they’d be indented into the
stone.

He moved
behind me, his hands running down my naked arms until they were
resting on top of mine. His hard chest leaned into me so I was
pressed into the counter, no escape. No place to run.

“Mouse,” he
whispered in my ear, his breath like a warm breeze caressing my
skin. “Don’t let him win.” His fingers forced mine apart so our
hands could interlock. It was intimate, way too intimate.

“You wrecked
me.” I barely recognized my ragged whisper as my voice. “I was
scared of you. I ... I still am.”

“I know.
Jesus, I know.” His thighs were hard against mine; his groin
pressed into my ass. “I will always do everything I can to protect
you from others hurting you. I don’t want you to be scared of me. I
would do anything for you. You know that, right?”

A small part
of me wanted to believe him, but mostly I didn’t. “I was weak, and
I hate myself for it.”

He swore
beneath his breath then pushed off the counter, and I instantly
felt the coldness seep into my veins. “You’re the strongest woman I
know. But baby, you need to forgive yourself. Your body knew what
your heart and mind didn’t.”

“What? That it
was okay to be fucked by you? To forgive myself for enjoying
it?”

“Yes.”

“I gave in to
you. I begged. I knelt on the floor and called you Master.”

His eyes
closed briefly and he took a deep breath. The outer corners of his
lips pulled down and the darkness in his eyes, it was gone.
Instead, I saw vulnerability. “Yes,” he said quietly then ran his
hand through his hair. “You submitted to me, in order to survive.
If you hadn’t, you would’ve died or, worse, been sold. That is
strength, Emily. I ... I did everything I could to protect you. But
bad shit happens. Sometimes, it can’t be stopped. I couldn’t stop
it, baby.” He shifted his weight and the floorboards creaked.
“Jesus, I’ve missed you.”

I swallowed,
feeling the tears well up in my eyes. How could four little words
make me want to run into his arms? No. I was stronger now. “Well, I
can’t say the same.”

He sighed, and
I saw the tightening of his face as if he winced at my words. “Eme,
I’m leaving tomorrow.”

His words felt
like a slap in the face. Jesus. What the hell was wrong with me? I
wanted him gone. I needed him gone. Why was every part of me
screaming like a five-year-old not getting her way?

I shouldn’t
have looked at him, but I did anyway and turned around. “That’s
good.” As soon as I said it, I wanted to take it back. It wasn’t
good; well, it was, but it wasn’t. God ... I was more screwed up
than I thought.

That cold
expression I knew intimately was back. It was so controlled that
for a second I felt that familiar fear. I mean, I didn’t really
know him did I? Tonight was a good example when he beat up that guy
for dancing with me. I never thought he’d lose control like
that.

He narrowed
his eyes. His hands clenched; his body grew tight. And he still
looked hot. My body should be sick with disgust. I should be
screaming my head off to get him away from me; instead I wanted to
scream at him to touch me.

“What we had,
we can’t get back, Sculpt.”

“We can,
’cause it never fuckin’ left.”

I didn’t say
anything. My chest rose and fell unevenly, heavily, and I knew my
nipples had to be showing through my snug camisole, although he
wasn’t looking there. No, his gaze never left my face—again. It was
unnerving. Unsettling.

“Jesus, Eme. I
don’t know what to do. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

I lowered my
head. There was nothing he could do. I didn’t have it in me to go
through this with him again. To take a chance and then be wrecked
apart. “Do nothing, Sculpt. That’s what you should do.”

He swung away
then strode to the door and flung it open.

He was pissed,
and yeah, I saw how much I hurt him. Logan may be hard and
confident, but tonight I saw more of him. I saw him hurting. But I
didn’t trust him any longer.

He
turned back around just as I was being stupid enough to admire his
ass in his faded blue jeans. He caught me staring, and I felt my
cheeks turn beet red, and I quickly looked at my feet.

I heard
his boots on the hardwood floor come closer, and I gasped as he
grabbed my chin. “Look at me.” His thumb rhythmically stroked
across the cleft in my chin. “Just
... please give us a
chance.
”

I lowered my
eyes from his, and his hand fell away from my chin.

He moved in
closer and his voice lowered to barely a whisper. “Eme. I’m sorry.”
Logan let me go, turned and walked out the door.

I collapsed
onto the kitchen floor and began breathing again. Logan just ran me
over, backed up, and did it again.

I tried to
extinguish Logan from my mind, but it didn’t help that every time I
heard a motorcycle my breath hitched, my heart started pounding,
and the butterflies in my stomach erupted. I slammed the balcony
door shut and locked out the sounds of the city streets,
motorcycles included.

Then I kept
hearing his voice saying ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘I’ve missed you’. It was
chewing me up inside, knowing I was doing the right thing, yet
seeing the hurt I caused—no it was him that hurt me.

“You going to
Georgie’s for brunch?” Kat nabbed her coffee off the counter and
took a sip.

“Yeah. Deck
texted, said he’d pick us up since he’s passing right by the
condo.” Since we’d moved to the farm, we made it a habit to visit
Georgie whenever we stayed at the condo. Despite my head feeling
like it had a set of drums vibrating in it, I knew I couldn’t bail
on Georgie since I missed seeing her last night. Matt hadn’t come
back to the condo, so we suspected he crashed at the bar like he
often did.

“Can’t go.
Hank sent me a text this morning. The tractor needs medical
attention, and he thinks he knows the problem and is planning on
fixing it. I have to get there before he gets to the tractor. He’ll
have metal parts thrown all over the garage, and we’ll be out of a
tractor for weeks.”

I smiled. Hank
was an angel with the horses. But he had no skills when it came to
fixing things. He was retired and kind of came with the farm. He
had a little cottage at the back of the property and was super
sweet. “Okay, so I’ll see you at the farm later.”

“
Yeah.
Let me know if anything juicy goes down. Deck looked pretty pissed
off last night. I swear his eyes never left Georgie once and his
scowl ... That guy
is
the
definition of danger. I’m thinking Georgie’s outfit had something
to do with it.”

Deck was cagey
about what Unyielding Riot actually did, but considering he got me
out of Raul’s compound and often worked with the authorities it had
to be dangerous. I was uncertain whether he kept a close eye on
Georgie because he had the hots for her or because her brother
never came back from their last mission and he felt obligated to
watch out for her. There was also the possibility that Deck’s work
had potential repercussions.

“Why? What was
she wearing?” Georgie dressed a little ... different, with no fear
of what others might say.

“I’ll put it
to you this way. I bet Deck told her to change and she did ... into
something even more revealing.” Kat laughed. “Even Matt’s mouth
dropped open when he saw her. And about Sculpt—”

I stopped her.
“Sculpt’s gone, Kat.”

“No listen, I
wanted to apologize for letting him in last night.”

“You were
drunk. And you hurt your hand trying to stop him.”

“Yeah. But
still.” Kat sighed. “I have a feeling he’ll be back. Just saying
... Sculpt doesn’t seem the type to give up easily, if at all.”

I heard the
buzzer and walked over to the door and pressed the Talk button.
“Yes?”

“A gentleman
is here to see you.”

“Okay. Thanks,
Eddie. Let him up.”

“Going to
shower. Say hi to Deck for me.” Kat headed down the hallway. “Oh
and just so you know, Hank and I are putting the horses in the
lower field today if you’re going to ride later.” Kat stopped.
“Emily ... maybe it’s time to, you know ... find someone. Let a guy
back in. If not Sculpt then someone else.” She disappeared into the
washroom, and before I could even begin to contemplate her words, a
knock sounded.

I turned the
lock and opened the door.

Logan.

My stomach
dropped hard and fast with a mixture of emotional uncertainty.
Jesus, I was so screwed up whenever I saw him that my emotions
didn’t know how to react. Butterflies released in every direction,
some looking for escape, others fluttering with joy.

He
looked
Häagen-Dazs
delicious in his worn out blue jeans and a gray T-shirt
that set off his dark eyes. And they
were
dark.

What was he
doing here again?

“You going to
let me in?”

He was
frowning and looked like he hadn’t slept, and yet still he looked
irresistible. Even with that scar on his chin. I wondered where he
got it from. Fighting in Mexico after I left?

“Mouse?”

Right. Let the
guy in. I was so speechless that I couldn’t even think straight. I
stepped out of the way, and Logan strode past me. He went directly
to the island and leaned against it crossing his arms. I stood
frozen in the wide-open doorway.

“You going to
shut that?”

I swung the
door shut and leaned back against it mirroring him. He was watching
me, eyes unwavering, intense, and yes, I recognized the hint of
desire in his expression.

Finally I
untangled my tongue, and I only did manage it, because he was on
one side of the room and I was at the farthest point away. “What
are you doing here? Again.”

“Come here,
Emily.”

I nearly did.
It was automatic to do as he asked when he said an order like that.
I had to stop myself and it felt like I was going against something
inside me. No, I wasn’t his slave anymore. Besides, stepping closer
to Logan had an effect on me that I needed to stay clear of. That
undeniable ache between my legs was dangerous, and distance was
safety. Falling for Logan again was by far the worst sort of
punishment I could put myself through. I had plans, and Logan was
not part of them.

“Last night
... ” He paused, and for a second I thought I saw that flash of
vulnerability in his eyes again. Surprising since Logan had the
confidence of a bull. All he had to do was walk in a room and all
eyes would deviate to him as if he was someone important. “What I
should’ve said was that I love you.” My breath escaped, and I
stared, mouth agape. And nothing deterred him it seemed. “I’ve
never said that to anyone except my mother. Because I never loved
anyone else—until you.”

Oh God. He
couldn’t do this. I was prepared to handle him being angry and
cold—not tell me he loves me and that he’s never said that to
anyone except his mother. A mother who risked everything in order
to get her son out of a horrible immoral place.

“Eme. I
wish—”

I shook my
head back and forth. “Sculpt—”

“Let me say
this.”

My
emotions were coiled tight, tied up with thoughts of Logan and when
we first met. Thoughts of how when he looked at me—he really looked
and saw
me
. His presence
reminded me of how he said he’d hire a plane with a banner saying
how beautiful I was to fly by my window. He’d said I needed to be
told often after all that shit my mother put in my head. Had that
been real? Had any of it? I was constantly fighting the memories of
the two months we’d spent together to be overshadowed by the
fifteen days of hell. Even with Logan telling me the truth, I was
having trouble trusting that our time together had been
real.

“Emily.” His
tone was hard and inflexible, and for a second I felt that flicker
of tremor skip across my insides, but then just as quick as it
came, it was gone again. “I wish more than anything I could’ve been
here for you over the last two years. Helped you. Told you the
truth. Jesus, sometimes I wish I never agreed to teach you
self-defence. But then ... then I’d have never fallen in love with
you.