Some Kind of Hell (6 page)

Talk about driving me wild.

“He came to my room to see me every single day,” Logan said. “My parents worked and never stopped working. My mother was a nurse and my father a lawyer. Kind of sad because it was like a storybook life for me. You know? Nice house. Nice neighborhood. That kind of stuff. But behind the big house and big bedroom and all that shit, it was terrible inside my house. My father drank, my mother took pills, they fought each other - sometimes literally - and sometimes they fought about me. I was... well, I was a mistake...”

“No,” Annie. “No. Never think that.”

“Oh, I don’t need to think it,” Logan said. “I was told that my whole life. My parents planned on having kids later but I came and fucked up their plan. And later when they tried to have more kids, they couldn’t. Turned into a big mess and my father ended up leaving and having three kids with another woman.”

My stomach turned and it had nothing to do with the vodka.

Logan got it. He understood what I went through. To watch someone walk away and start a new life with the snap of fingers. Just how Jared had.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t know what else to say.”

“Nobody said you had to say anything,” Logan said. “That’s long after my hospital stay. Back at the hospital... my grandfather came everyday to be with me. He would tell me stories, read me comics, watch cartoons. I don’t remember the cartoons but I remember him laughing. He had a little whistle in his laugh. Sometimes when he’d really get into it, laughing hard I mean, we would joke and yell,
“The tea’s done!”.
  He started bringing his guitar to the hospital. He would play for hours, strumming chords, plucking notes, singing songs to me. Granted, he wasn’t the greatest guitar player in the world, but he just kept going and going. I swear to you, Annie, that’s what brought me out of it all. I woke up and slowly started to get better. Two weeks later when I was sent home, my parents asked me if I needed anything.

I told them a guitar.

They rushed out and got me one, and that’s where it started. It didn’t take long for them to hate the guitar. They hated the noise. They hated the reminder of my existence. So for Christmas that year I told them - well, I told Santa - that I wanted an electric guitar with an amp... and headphone to plug into the amp so the guitar wouldn’t make noise. It was there Christmas morning for me.”

“But you play bass for DownCrash,” I said.

“I play anything I want,” Logan said with a sexy confidence.

“How did that happen?”

“I saw an instrument and I picked it up,” he said. “There was a time when my parents would buy me anything to keep me out of their hair. Then I got a few jobs and when I graduated high school, I went to the first college that accepted me. And the rest is sort of history, right?”

I nodded and reached for Logan. I touched his bare skin. My fingers slid down, feeling the gentle bumps of muscle, down to his wrist, and finally to his hand. His fingers slowly opened and I put my open hand on top of his.

“There’s more, isn’t there?” I whispered.

“There’s always more,” Logan said. “I’m sure the same goes for you. Your ex didn’t just wake up one day and get someone pregnant, right?”

Hearing it hurt, but it was the truth.

“There were plenty of problems,” I said. “Us not together doesn’t hurt me as much as the fact that he just starts another relationship, with a baby, and I’m sure it’s a great thing. As though I never existed or mattered.”

“You want his family to mourn you?” Logan asked and laughed.

“Not mourn me,” I said. “But... maybe understand that it was a real relationship. I feel like I was knocked down a notch because I didn’t get pregnant.”

“Do you want to get pregnant?”

“No!” I cried out.

“Then stop thinking about it.”

“Tell me about your scar,” I said. “You said it was two parts...”

“Yeah, that,” Logan said.

His hand closed over mine, really tight.

When his eyes met mine, something told me that this story was the breaking point for Logan. The kind of story that would have him either spending the night in bed with me or spending the night with a bottle of vodka.

I squeezed back at his hand, wanting to keep him there. And close.

~6~

“I wasn’t a perfect kid,” Logan said.

I couldn’t imagine anyone as a perfect kid, teenager, or adult. That’s not how life went. Everyone made mistakes. Everyone had regrets. Everyone did dumb things. That was the nature of humans.

“One night, I realized what was happening with my parents and I snapped.”

“Snapped?” I asked.

“Yeah. Instead of sitting down and talking to me about things, my mother kicked open my door and began to tell me how much of a pig my father was. Screaming, knocking things down in my room as though I was the problem. Then my father joined a second later and started telling my mother that she ruined herself and thanks to her pill problem, she couldn’t carry another child.”

Logan closed his eyes and took a breath.

“What happened?”

“That’s when she slipped and admitted she didn’t even want the child she had... meaning me.”

“Oh, Logan,” I said. “That’s so wrong. I hope you don’t believe that for a second.”

“Doesn’t matter now,” Logan said. “Even then, it didn’t matter. It just pissed me off. So I left. I left my parents in my room, fighting. I grabbed my guitar and left. I ended up at a friend’s house and we started drinking. Then things got really crazy.”

“What happened?”

I pulled at Logan and he moved closer to me. I could smell his skin then, my nose and body tingling, wanting him.

“We ended up drinking a little too much and then my friend got a call from his girlfriend. They started bickering on the phone and when she hung up on him, he grabbed his keys to leave. I stopped him but he wasn’t done. He had to get to his girl, that’s what he told me. He worried she was dumping him or going to find another guy or something like that. I knew where she lived and I knew a back road to get there. It was a straight shot so I made the dumbest mistake of my life.”

“You drove,” I whispered.

“I drove,” Logan said. “I drove and did my best. But I was drunk. A dumb teenager doing the dumbest thing ever. Around one of the bends, I lost control of the car. My eyes saw something different and I panicked. I cut the wheel left, right, left again, and then we were off the road.”

Logan stopped and swallowed. He tried to stand up but I held his wrist. I used both hands to keep him in place. I was a second away from begging him to stay.

“Logan, tell me,” I whispered.

“I woke and my side was killing me. The driver’s window shattered and a piece of glass was stuck in my side. Doctors were able to get it out and stitch me up but I was left with a scar. Another scar. Like the most significant moments in my life were left with scars. But other than that, I was fine. My buddy needed so many surgeries... so much rehab and stuff, you know? It cost me so much, Annie, I’m still paying for it in every way possible. My friend had a younger brother who’s going to college on a free ride. Smart kid. But so fucking annoying. We just don’t mesh, but he couldn’t afford an apartment... so I told him to crash in mine while he’s in school. It’s the least I could do, right?”

“What happened to your friend?”

“He’s fine now. He used to play baseball but that ended his baseball dreams. He’s in school down in Florida. Thankfully nobody ended up suing each other and as pathetic as it is... my father, the big bad lawyer, got me out of most of it.”

Logan’s eyes were weary and hurt.

“It’s okay,” I said. “It’s okay to be hurt.”

“So I just pay,” Logan said. “Everyday that I wake up and Tommy’s in the apartment, I pay. That’s why I stay here so much. Seeing Tommy keeps that pain alive. Thinking about what my father did, keeps the pain alive. He used the divorce as a reason why I acted like a dumb kid.. And it all worked. My last couple years of high school were a fucking blur. Time moved on but part of my heart...”

I couldn’t take it anymore.

Logan wasn’t speaking about himself to me, he was speaking about me to me. I was completely sitting up by then and I made my move again, just like at the bottom of the steps. My lips touched his and my other hand grabbed for his shirt. But Logan wasn’t wearing a shirt. So my hand grabbed at his skin. His soft skin. His sexy skin. So I gripped his shoulder, feeling the hardness of muscle as we kissed.

It was just lips for a few seconds. Kissing once, twice, three times. Then I parted my lips a little and to my shock, Logan pushed at me, wanting it. His mouth opened and our tongues touched. I moaned, feeling foolish but turned on. Then, both my hands were at his sides, holding him, never wanting to leave me.

He didn’t.

He pushed at me again, taking me down to the bed.

Logan didn’t climb directly on top of me. His arms locked straight, keeping the top half of his perfect body off me. His lower half touched me, but not where I wanted to be touched. We were at such an angle where it didn’t work.

But the kissing did.

Logan kissed me with a deep passion.

Our tongues battled for space, my teeth teasing at his lips, tempted to bite for a second. Logan did the exact same thing to me. The kiss broke twice and each time we stared at each other for a couple seconds. I wasn’t going to say anything because I had nothing to say. I had what I wanted. Logan didn’t say a word either but as he exhaled his breaths I could tell something was racing through his mind. Both times, he groaned and went back to kissing me. I never enjoyed making out with someone so much as I did with Logan in that heated moment. The thoughts of what had happened to me were slipping away.

My nails dug into Logan’s back a little and started to move down. I knew exactly what I wanted next and how to get it.

I wanted Logan’s body against me. Inside.

But Logan broke the kiss for a third time, ending it.

His mouth was away from mine, too far away. He hovered over me, breathing, blinking.

“Shit,” he whispered. “Annie...”

“Don’t say a thing,” I said. “I’m right here, Logan. I want this.”

“Our emotions,” Logan said.

“Fuck that,” I said. “Kiss me again.”

“Annie... we’re...”

Logan scrambled, trying to maybe convince himself what he should or shouldn’t do. So I did something. I pulled the rockstar card on Logan. I hadn’t forgotten a word he sang during that acoustic song when DownCrash was jamming in the garage. I hadn’t forgotten a word written in that notebook either.

I licked my lips and whispered to Logan.

“I thought I laughed once, but I just tasted my own tears.”

Logan closed his eyes and sighed. “That’s not fair.”

“Yes it is,” I said. “Logan, just come next to me then.”

Logan opened his eyes and looked like he was going to move. I clawed at his sides.

“Without your shirt on,” I said with a wicked smile.

Logan complied and fell to my side. He was over the covers, I was under the covers. It wasn’t the perfect setup, yet.

“Thank you for telling me everything,” I whispered.

“Will you remember it tomorrow?”

“Of course I will,” I said. “I’m not that kind of girl. I don’t get drunk, beg for sex...”

“Beg for sex? Who is begging for sex?”

I didn’t reply but moved the covers down a little. I put my hands to Logan, wanting him so bad. I moved at him and felt him hesitate.

“Annie...”

“I’m about to throw myself at you,” I said.

“I don’t want anyone to regret anything,” he said. “It’s been a crazy day and night... and now morning...”

“Shut up,” I said.

“Whatever,” Logan teased.

We were just an inch from each other.

I couldn’t do it again though. I couldn’t make a move. I had to leave it up to Logan. To show me if he wanted me or not.

His forehead touched mine first. I gasped as our noses touched. My body was lit on fire. I felt myself tingling everywhere. My breasts ached for his touch. Between my legs, I needed his comfort. I needed to feel him.

“Logan,” I whispered.

Logan put his lips to mine, ending any potential of more conversation.

Talk was over, and that was certainly fine by me.

We kissed like before, deep and long, savoring each second and exploring each other’s mouths. I felt Logan moving, fighting his way under the covers. His hand touched my back and hurried down to the bottom of my shirt. Then it was his bare hand at the small of my back. His fingertips teased the top of my pants. He pulled at me, bringing me close and tight to his body. I felt him... how hard he was.

I moaned.

His hand cut up my shirt, making sure he touched me everywhere instead of just being fast. The implications were laced with romance, but I preferred to just have the lust for the moment.

When Logan’s fingers touched the back of my bra, I sighed into his mouth. His lips kissed my bottom lip and he slowly moved away from my mouth, tasting my neck. I felt the flicker of his tongue and his fingers gripped the clasp of my bra. With a simple twist of those fingers, my bra was undone.

I felt the relief as my chest pushed forward, still covered by my shirt. Logan’s hand wasted no time then, sliding around towards my breasts. His fingers tickled my sides a little and I jumped, laughing for a second. There was something about that moment that just made everything happening so much better. To feel such intense emotion, want, and need, but then be able to laugh for a second before Logan’s strong hand cupped my breast.

He held me, allowing his thumb to tease and touch my nipple. I groaned and wanted more. I tried to roll to my back but Logan used his other hand to slip behind my neck and hold me in place. He was in control and I wanted it. My lower half thrust at him.

“Logan,” I whispered.

Logan’s hand moved over my breast, his palm pressing against my nipple. My body surged with need. I opened my legs and I took deep breaths, waiting for him to do something more. He kissed from my neck to my ear, his teeth nibbling at the bottom of my ear as he casually worked back to my mouth. There he kissed me again and this time it was me who broke the hot kiss to say something to Logan.