Logan (A Cocky Cage Fighter Novel) Page 3

  That’s the moment when all the suffering of the last three days really hits me. I couldn’t hold back the tears if I tried.

  …

  Logan

  As soon as I jog back down the stairs, forcing myself to give Brayden some privacy even if my protective instincts hate it, my growling stomach reminds me that I haven’t had anything to eat but airline peanuts all day.

  Again, I almost turn around and march up the stairs, just to talk to her through the door to ask what she’d like to eat so that I know she’s okay. Realizing how absurd that is, I resist the urge.

  At least I have something else I can do for her now. Picking up the landline phone on the side table in the living room, I call and order room service, a burger and fries for both of us, figuring those are safe options that everyone likes.

  Minutes go by, then half an hour as I check the time on my cell phone. The food is even delivered, and yet I don’t hear any sounds from upstairs in the bathroom.

  When I’m certain it’s been at least an hour, I finally give in and go upstairs to knock on the door.

  Brayden doesn’t answer, so I put my ear up to it to see if I can hear her moving around.

  “Brayden? The food’s here,” I call out.

  There’s no response, so I knock again and say her name.

  While I hate to barge in, my heart is galloping at full speed with worry, so I crack open the door…and find Brayden sitting in the tub. Her hair is soaking wet, dripping down her back and her knees are pulled up to her chest with her arms tightly clenching her legs. She’s shivering so hard I can see it from five feet away.

  Fuck.

  Rushing over, I lift her out of the water and wrap a towel around her soaking wet and cold body before guiding her to sit down on the closed toilet seat.

  What the hell am I gonna do with her? I thought when I left her that she was fine, but now, I know my gut was right to worry. She’s not okay.

  And I’m so out of my element here. Brayden’s emotionally and physically fragile right now, so I don’t want to do or say anything to make shit worse for her.

  Squatting down in front of her, I reach for her face that’s wet from a mixture of water and tears and wait for her red, blurry eyes to meet mine before I try to talk to her. “Are you okay? Should I call your parents?”

  “No!” is her adamant one-word response as her head shakes her wet strands of hair back and forth. Okay, so no to the parents. “I’m…I’m sorry. I’m fine r-really. I’ll…g-get my shit together,” she says through the sobs and her teeth chattering as she uses the towel to mop up her eyes.

  “You’re not fine, and I don’t know what to do for you, Brayden. You’re starting to scare me,” I tell her honestly. “Did someone hurt you?”

  Her nod is barely perceptible as she bites down on her bottom lip again when it quivers.

  Oh fuck. There’s a follow-up question I know I need to ask here, but I don’t know how. I should probably just spit it out.

  “Did they…did anyone…sexually assault you?” I ask softly.

  After a few seconds of holding my breath, she shakes her head and replies with a soft, “No.”

  Thank god. I’m not sure what I would’ve done if she’d said yes. But since she said no, that makes me feel a little better about barging in here when she was bathing and touching her naked body without her permission.

  “That’s good to know. Now, can I help you get dressed? I bet some food will help, right? Aren’t you starving?”

  “Yes,” she answers. “I’m sorry, Logan. Just give me a minute, and I’ll get myself together.”

  “Hey, don’t apologize for being upset,” I assure her. Reaching up to push the damp strands of hair from her face, I tell her honestly, “If I had been through what you had, I would be crying too. There’s nothing wrong with getting upset when you’ve been starved, isolated, and abandoned.”

  “I-I thought I was okay, you know?” she says. “You got me out, brought me here to a nice place where I’m safe. It all just came out of nowhere after you shut the door and left me...”

  “Hey, I didn’t leave you. I’m right here,” I tell her as I lean forward and wrap my arms around her. “And I’m sorry I shut the door.”

  “No, it’s stupid,” she says, blowing out her breath against my ear. “I don’t know why something so silly set me off.”

  “It’s not silly. You were locked up in a strange place. They hurt you, maybe not physically but certainly emotionally, which can be even harder to heal from. What they did was wrong, and I wish I could go back and beat them bloody for it.”

  Brayden’s fists clutch the front of my shirt as if she thinks I’m actually gonna leave her to go kick some ass. While I would like to, not only do I know I would just end up being thrown in a cell, but also, I’d much rather be here comforting her than punishing those motherfuckers.

  I need to do more than hold her, so I finally force myself to ease away.

  “Is it okay if I go grab you some clothes from my bag? I left it right on the bed,” I explain.

  “Yeah,” Brayden answers with a sniffle before she looks away and grabs some tissue from the box on the counter. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  Even though I don’t buy that for a second, I won’t be gone long, so I get to my feet and hurry into the bedroom, grabbing one of my undershirts and the first pair of boxer briefs I find to return to her. It’s not a great outfit, but it’s clean and the best I can do.

  Back in the bathroom, I lay the clothes down on the counter and try to dry Brayden off a little more, starting with another towel in her hair.

  “Thanks, Logan,” she tells me. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess.”

  “Stop apologizing,” I tell her. “I’m sorry I didn’t come back to check on you sooner. You should’ve yelled for me.”

  “This isn’t exactly how I wanted the first time you see me naked to go,” she says, making me pause in my attempt to dry her off. Confused by her words, I pull the towel away from her hair to see her face.

  “We’ve met before,” Brayden tells me. “Clearly, I was memorable,” she adds with a roll of her eyes to downplay the fact that I think she’s a little hurt that I don’t remember her. Why don’t I remember her?

  “Where?” I ask after I comb through every encounter I can think of in my mind, and none of them hold even a hint of her beautiful sea-green eyes.

  “My parents have a New Year’s party every year at our house for the law firm,” she answers. “You were there this year.”

  “Oh, right,” I agree. “I had just interviewed at the firm and was too busy kissing ass to enjoy myself or talk to anyone other than the partners,” I explain, because there’s no way I would’ve forgotten Brayden if we had met. She’s gorgeous, even with her wet hair plastered to her face, so I’m sure she would’ve been a knockout all dolled up in a cocktail dress.

  “And your sister Page is married to my friend Sadie’s boyfriend’s brother,” she adds.

  “Small world,” I reply before I straighten and take a step back, surprised that we hadn’t come face to face before tonight. “So, I guess I’ll leave you to get dressed, if that’s okay? The t-shirt and boxers are all I have unless you want a dress shirt or slacks…”

  Oh fuck.

  Why did I mention the dress shirt? That’s like the sexiest fucking thing a woman could wear – my dress shirt and nothing on underneath with her hair all tousled after we fuck. It’s so much hotter than any lingerie out there, and now I’m a gigantic pervert for even thinking of Brayden in nothing but one of my button downs for just a half a second after all the shit she’s been through this week. What the hell is wrong with me?

  “These are great, thanks,” Brayden says, snapping me out of my self-loathing. “Will you leave the door open?”

  I’m being tortured. I don’t know exactly what I did to deserve to be punished in such a way, but having an incredibly beautiful, naked woman in front of me who is absolutely untouchable is just wrong. So is
the fact that, for good and obvious reasons, she’s incapable of putting at least one wooden door between me and her incredible naked body. I’m such a pervy bastard for remembering every one of her curves in great detail just from the quick glimpse I got when I lifted her out of the tub.

  “Yeah, sure,” I tell her, having to clear the gravel from my throat when I force myself to turn around. “Please yell for me,” I say and then cringe at my phrasing. “I mean, yell if you need me or anything...”

  Dammit. Even that usually innocuous statement sounds like an innuendo at the moment.

  I need to get my head out of the gutter and back to business before I make a fool of myself. All I need is Brayden telling her father I was hitting on her, and my ass will be right out the firm’s door.

  Chapter Six

  Brayden

  Soaking in the warm bubble bath was nice, even if I was falling apart in there the whole time. I’ve always taken baths for granted, but no more. Not after the three days of sleeping on a piss and shit covered cement floor in a pitch-black room no bigger than a broom closet. I was terrified that I would never be able to leave and that I would die there.

  Thank god for Logan.

  He said he’s here because he works for my father, but I know the truth — Sadie must have come through, even from miles away. She’s taking summer classes at Duke to graduate early, so my best friend from high school didn’t get to come along with us on our trip. Still, it’s nice to know that I can count on her. I have no clue where my roommate, Jessica, and our friends, Amanda and Christina, are.

  Did they leave yesterday, going home as we had planned? If so, it sucks that they abandoned me. I would never have left while one of them was still here in jail, but I guess they didn’t feel the same about me. I hope someone at least grabbed my purse that was left at the club before I was practically kidnapped from it.

  Part of me wants to leave this city as soon as possible, but the other isn’t ready to go home yet, because that is where I’ll be going. Not back to school, since I haven’t enrolled in any summer courses. At least at home, my parents will be around, and I won’t be totally alone. That means less time for the asshole who shall not be named to show up for an unexpected visit.

  It’s not like I can hide from the man forever, but a few more days would be nice.

  The sound of silverware clanging reminds me to get moving. As soon as I’m dressed, I can finally try to eat an actual meal. Looking in the mirror, my stomach that wasn’t exactly flat when we got to Mexico is now sunk in and feels like a hollow tavern. By the time Logan got me out of jail and handed over that granola bar, I had given up on the idea of seeing any food again.

  While I’m extremely grateful for Logan taking care of me, I’m also ashamed. Not about him seeing my nudity, because those reservations are long gone. But because after years of hiding behind a smile and peppy personality so that my friends and family wouldn’t find out the truth, Logan saw just how fucked up I was when he got me out of jail. There was no way for me to hide it from him. Having someone witness the lowest point in your life is awful, because I know he won’t ever forget seeing me that way, broken and disgusting, so tired and weak that I could barely walk. The heat of the bathtub didn’t help things either. My limbs now feel like rubber. But I know I need to get moving and put something in my stomach.

  Once I get dressed in Logan’s clothes that smell delicious and masculine like him, I use the sink to pull myself to my feet and then hold onto the wall to reach the door. Walking even those few steps takes a lot of effort. While I know the weakness is only temporary, it’s still annoying.

  “Hey, you made it out,” Logan says when he looks up from the edge of the bed. In front of him are two covered dishes. “I brought the food up here to save you from the unnecessary exertion.”

  “I appreciate that,” I say when I take a seat opposite the second dish. I’ve said the words thank you so many times that I figured I should change it up a bit.

  Logan took off his tie and dress shirt, and now his white cotton undershirt and dress pants have water splattered all over them from helping me out of the tub. Seeing him here in the bright lamps, with his closely cut blond hair and stunning blue eyes, I’m surprised I didn’t recognize him sooner. Actually, I’m a little horrified that, of all the people who had to see me in that nasty state, it was him since I’ve had somewhat of a crush on him ever since I spotted him talking to my father at the New Year’s party.

  “No problem,” he replies. “And you don’t have to keep thanking me. I’m just relieved that you’re out of that place.”

  I’m not really offended that Logan doesn’t remember me from when we met at my parents' house. How could I be upset with the man who saved me from the worst place in the world? And he’s definitely easy on the eyes. Sitting across from him, I can take all of him in better than when he was carrying me or right next to me in the cab. He’s an incredibly handsome man with sympathetic eyes and an athletic body that’s strong enough to lift me like I weigh nothing. It makes me wonder if some lucky woman has snatched him up yet like the catch he is.

  “I ordered you a burger and fries, so I hope that’s okay,” he tells me as he lifts the silver lid off of the plate in front of me.

  The mouthwatering smell hits me like a punch in the face.

  “Oh my god, that smells freakin’ amazing,” I tell him as my stomach perks up and takes notice. Picking up a French fry, I dip it in the ketchup container and then pop it into my mouth.

  “Mmm, so good,” I close my eyes and moan.

  “You’re a cheap date,” Logan teases. When I open my eyes, he digs into his own plate that’s identical to mine.

  Unable to resist, I pick up my burger and chomp into it. After chewing the first bite with more moans, I tell Logan, “This right here is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

  “It’s pretty good for hotel food,” he agrees. “I’m sure you’re ready to get back home and enjoy some home cooking. We should be able to get a flight out tomorrow morning.”

  I nearly choke on my food hearing that. Washing the bite down with the bottle of water Logan hands me when he must notice the stricken look on my face, I ask him, “Have you talked to my parents yet?”

  “Shit,” he mutters. “No, not yet. We should call them,” he says as he wipes his hands on a napkin and then pulls his phone out of his pocket.

  “Wait!” I exclaim. Reaching across the bed, I grab his arm to stop him before he can dial any numbers on it. Leaning forward causes the collar of his V-neck tee to hang open, which I’m guessing puts my breast on display. My assumption is confirmed when Logan’s eyes momentarily glance down for a peek and then snap right back up to mine because he’s a gentleman. I don’t bother adjusting the collar because I learned a long time ago that, when you flash just a little bit of skin, most men will give you pretty much anything you want.

  “Will you tell my parents that I’m still in jail?” I ask Logan in a rush.

  “What? Why would I do that?” he asks with his forehead bunched in confusion.

  “Because I don’t want to go back home yet.”

  “Well, that’s too bad. Your father’s counting on me to get you out and bring you home as soon as possible.”

  “Did he actually say that?” I ask with a tilt of my head.

  Logan looks away from me before he responds. “Not in those exact words…”

  “Did he even ask you to come down here or did Sadie?”

  Blowing out a breath, Logan runs his fingers through his hair and says, “Sadie. But your father was worried.”

  “No, he wasn’t. He thinks I do this sort of thing for attention! But you saw that place. Why would I want to sit in that shithole jail for three days without any food or water?”

  “Why did you get arrested?” Logan asks.

  I shake my head, refusing to answer that question. Leaning back, I say, “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Yes, it does.”

  Going back to my fr
ies because I can’t resist them for another second, I say, “Not to my parents, it doesn’t. They gave up on me a long time ago and have no idea what I’ve been dealing with, what’s waiting for me back at home…”

  “And what’s that?” Logan asks, making me pause in my chewing when I realize I just overshared.

  I’ve never talked to anyone about this, not even Sadie, because no one would understand. And while I don’t intend to spill everything to Logan, a man I barely know, I have to share something with him if I want him to understand and agree to give me a few days to gather up enough strength to face what’s waiting for me back home.

  “If I tell you, will you let me stay here for a few days? I can’t go back yet.”

  “And I can’t risk losing my job over some family drama,” Logan replies.

  That’s what I thought. He’s gonna need a damn good reason to delay our return. So I give him what I can.

  “I’m trying to get out of a, well, I guess you could say I’m attempting to end a, um, an unhealthy relationship with someone back home.”

  “Unhealthy how?” Logan’s voice lowers to ask. “Do you mean someone’s hurting you?”

  “Not physically,” I say, then try to find the words to explain. “He’s just incredibly jealous and very controlling and possessive. He was pissed when I left on vacation without telling him...”

  “Did he come down here?” Logan asks, smart enough to put together the pieces that fast.

  “Yes,” I answer. “I didn’t tell him I was coming because it was no longer his business, but he found out and was angry. So angry that I think he paid the cops off…”

  “He had you arrested and held?”

  I answer him with a nod so that I can take another bite of my burger. “Yep. He was talking to the cops right before, slipped them some money. Anyway, when I get back home…” I shake my head as I imagine how hard he’ll come at me.