Scartissue by T.L Hodel

CHAPTER 11

Shelby

I woke up the next morning wrapped in Logan’s arms. I probably should’ve jumped up and scampered away, but I didn’t. I stayed where I was, staring at the wall, like some drugged out zombie.

If I looked at him, I’d have to face what happened last night and admit that a part of me enjoyed it. The way he held me down, and the things he said. All of it played over and over again in my mind.

Waking up in his arms wasn’t helping any. Hearing his steady breaths whisp across my ear while he held me close. It felt oddly natural and comfortable, and was one hundred percent disturbing.

Logan Hudson didn’t cuddle or take girls on dates. He played them. Taking what he wanted and then moving on to the next. Sometimes in the same night.

Well, I wasn’t going to be one of those girls. The ones that thought for some reason they’d be different. That he would want more than one night of fun from them. I spent enough time with Trina to know how this game was played, and I wasn’t going to become that pathetic person pining for something that would never come.

Not gonna happen!

I carefully lifted Logan’s arm and inched my way across the bed, which was no easy task. Each shuffle or grunt made me hold my breath and silently pray he wouldn’t wake up. I don’t how he did it, but ever time I saw those twinkling green eyes or stupid charming smirk, I wound up trapped in his web. Maybe he was secretly an incubus or something. It wouldn’t surprise me if he had some supernatural allure.

Bastard.

After what felt like forever, my feet finally slipped off the edge of the mattress. I’d escaped the lustful demon. Or, at least I thought I had. I was just sliding my butt off the mattress when Logan’s hands wrapped under my armpits and he pulled me back up.

“Are you trying to sneak away from me, Cherry Pie?”

“No,” I grumbled, hating how sexy his sleepy tone sounded.

“That’s good.” He wrapped his leg around me and nuzzled in, grazing his lips off my ear, “Cause I’d hate to think you were trying to renege on our deal.”

Before Logan came along, I was confident in who I was. I had the body I was born with and there was nothing I could do about that. But lately I was questioning everything.

Does this shirt match these pants? Did I do that right? Was I good enough? Would my dad be proud of me?

The last one I’d asked myself a lot lately. I couldn’t stop this nagging feeling that if I’d tried harder to make him happy, he wouldn’t have cheated. Stupid, I know. Still, I couldn’t stop thinking about what he said.

‘I never would have married your mother if she wasn’t pregnant.’

“Why can’t men be faithful?”

Though I couldn’t see him–I was staring at the wall–I could feel Logan’s brow rise.

“I hadn’t realized I was unfaithful.”

“Oh, please,” I rolled my eyes back at him, which was a mistake.

The second I met that piercing green gaze, I froze. Trapped by the way they sparkled as he rolled his eyes over me.

Focus, Shelby.

“Why don’t you just leave Logan. We both know you want to.”

“Do I strike you as the kind of guy that does anything I don’t want to?”

Definitely not. But I didn’t want him here.

“Just go,” I growled, angry that I couldn’t shake the image of my dad sucking face with my coach. “I’m sure your next flavor is waiting outside for you.”

“Ah, that’s what this is about,” he said, propping himself up on an elbow. “So quick to condemn, Cherry Pie. But you’re not mad at me, are you?” His lips twisted in a mocking frown. “You’re mad at daddy.”

It wasn’t what he said that had my hand flying through the air. Logan teasing me had become my new normal. It was because he was right.

“Fuck you,” I snarled, slapping him across the face.

The second my strike rang through the air, I suddenly understood what Rye meant by her mouth was always getting her in trouble. Except in my case, it was my hand.

Logan’s eyes darkened and before I had a chance to contemplate my stupid decision, he had my arms pinned and was glowering down at me.

“Watch yourself, Cherry Pie, I’m looking for a reason to hurt you.” His voice dropped an octave, causing my heart to fall with it, pumping nervous pulses through my churning gut. “Don’t piss me off.”

If last night proved anything, it was how far Logan was willing to go. But did I heed his warning? No. I was too mad to go limp and play sweet little submissive.

My body bucked and my legs kicked, while I screamed every curse word I knew in his face. It didn’t do much good. He was bigger and stronger. Still, I didn’t stop. The ticking time bomb I’d been suppressing for months had blown. Exploding in a burning rage that not even the cold spikes of fear rocketing up my spine could cool.

I squirmed. I screamed. I would’ve clawed his eyes out if I could move my hands. I wanted to hurt him. Make someone, anyone, feel my pain. Take the ripping hole in my heart and shove it down their throat, until they were choking on the same pile of disgust and hatred I was.

And then Logan slapped me. Turning that horrible burning rage into a moment of shock.

“That’s it,” he growled, flipping me over before my brain had time to register the sting spreading across my face. “You want to act like a child and throw a tantrum.” He ripped the blanket away, pressed his knee into my back, and swung his hand, landing a firm strike on my still sore ass. “Then I’ll treat you like one.”

He hit me again, once again fueling that burning ugliness to consume me.

“Let me go!” I snarled, kicking him with my heels. “I hate you!”

He said nothing as he continued his assault. I reached back and clawed his arm, flailed my body and spewed insults at him. Each time he answered me with a resounding smack. It went on for so long that my body was covered in a fine coat of sweat and it felt like I was sitting in a bucket of lava.

“So Daddy is fucking your coach.”

Smack.

“Suck it up and move on. No one gives a shit what Daddy does.”

Smack.

“Screw you.”

I’d met his mom. Paisley was possibly the sweetest person on earth. And Riley’s dad might be strict, but he was loving. He had no idea the pain a dysfunctional family could cause. How much a parent could break your heart.

“You have the perfect life. What could you know about any of this?”

He full on belly laughed, as if what I’d said was the funniest thing in the world.

“You think you’re the only one with daddy issues? You should meet my old man.”

“Oh boo hoo,” I sang, “Daddy didn’t get me the jet I wanted for Christmas.”

There was a big difference between disappointment, and being blamed for ruining his life.

The next thing I knew, Logan had a handful of my hair and was twisting my head.

“You see that,” he growled, while throwing his arm in my face, “That nice little cigarette burn in the skull’s eye?”

I sucked in a breath, because I did see it. Right there in the eye socket, a small circular burn healed with time. And that wasn’t all I saw. The black ink on his tanned skin hid a road map of pain and torture. Cuts, abrasions and rough patches of skin. Scars everywhere.

“What happened to you?”

“These are the gifts my daddy gave me.”

Until this moment, I’d never given much thought to where his father was. In this day and age it wasn’t that big of an assumption to think his parents split. Even couples people think are truly happy break up. My parents were a prime example of that. Everyone thought they were the perfect couple. At home it was a different story.

I heard the fights. Saw the dried tears on my mom’s face. Behind closed doors, away from the prying eyes of others, that was when reality reared its’ ugly head. My heart ached as my gaze rolled over Logan’s scars. His reality wasn’t just ugly. It was a nightmare.

“Is he in jail?” It would explain his absence.

Logan snorted out a laugh.

“Men like my old man don’t go to jail, Cherry Pie.”

What the hell did that mean? No one was beyond the scales of justice. The law didn’t care where you came from, or who you were. Unless they were the president, of course.

“If you break the law, you go to jail.” Riley got arrested for graffiti, and her dad was sheriff. “That’s how it works, Logan.”

“It’s fucking annoying how naive you are.” Logan sighed and rolled off me. “You need to let go of your Care Bear ideals. The world isn’t fluffy bunnies and rainbows.”

Why did he always treat me like I was a child?I knew there were ugly things in the world. He was here, wasn’t he?

“There’s nothing wrong with choosing to see the good in life,” I snarled, flinching when I sat up and my ass pressed down on the mattress.

“You need a fucking reality check, sweetheart.” He pushed me on my back before I could get another word out. “And I’m going to give it to you.”

I was so done with his arrogance. Thinking he was all that just because he was handsome. Okay, he was gorgeous, and had that wicked smirk down pat. That didn’t make him any better than the rest of us.

Well, except kissing. His lips were so soft, and the things he did with his tongue. Logan definitely knew what he was doing in that department.

And with his fingers, and other parts.

Should my orgasm be that intense?

My body kept shivering as if I was still recovering. Logan’s mouth twisted in that sinful way that caused goosebumps to erupt across my skin. He did things to me that I didn’t think were possible. Made me feel things I didn’t know I could. And a huge part of me wondered what else he could do with those lips.

Focus Shelby!

“You know what?”

His lips crashed down on mine before I could tell him what.

My mind struggled, telling me to slap him. Especially since, like everything else he did, Logan Hudson was a master at kissing.

I lay there with his heavy weight pressing down on me, giving him nothing more a weak moan in protest. His taste exploded across my tongue as his mouth worked mine, and I felt another piece of my soul slip away. I tried to move, regain control of my limbs and push him away.

My body wasn’t listening, though. I couldn’t get my arms to move. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. They worked enough to spear my fingers in his hair. I was in so much trouble.

Logan pulled away long enough to softly purr, “I want to fuck you so bad,” and dove back in. More demanding this time.

I was helpless. Logan Hudson was like that first bite of Thanksgiving dinner. I’d tell myself, just one plate, and later that night, I’d be lying on the couch wondering how I got so full I couldn’t move. Fighting him was a useless endeavour.

I was in so much trouble.

And then his lips were gone. I opened my eyes to see him staring down at me with a cocky grin.

This can’t be good.

“Time to pay up, Cherry Pie.”

My eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“We had a deal.”

Yup, definitely not good.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I put clothes on.”

“For like two seconds,” I argued. “I am not giving you a blow job for that.”

His eyes darkened, as if he was happy I was refusing. Which almost made me give in. After what happened last night, I wasn’t in a hurry to push him again. Luckily for me, my baby sister decided to kill the mood.

“What’s a blow job?”

We both stopped and turned to see Mags standing in my doorway, her little hip cocked to the side. She’d spent the night at Dad’s house. I shouldn’t have seen her until I picked her up from school.

“Shouldn’t Dad be taking you to school?”

“He wanted to surprise you with breakfast.”

I rolled my eyes. Of course he did. I started Ashworth on Monday, so naturally he was playing the proud parent. It’s funny how quickly he forgot about blaming me for ruining his life.

“What’s a blow job?” Mags repeated.

I was about to tell her to get out of my room, but Logan beat me to the punch.

“It’s when a girl sucks on a guy’s–“

“Oh my God!” I squealed, smacking him with a pillow. “She’s nine!”

He shrugged and rolled off me.

“She’s gotta learn sometime.”

“Not when she’s nine!”

“I’m not a baby,” Mags sang, crossing her arms.

Logan cocked a brow at me, silently saying ‘see’, and I’d never wanted to smack anyone more in my life. Which I didn’t get a chance to do, because another voice wafted up the stairs.

“Are you up, Peanut?”

Oh, shit!

My wide eyes locked on my little sister.

“Dad’s here?”

“She’s up here, Daddy,” Mags yelled with a smile.

I don’t know why I thought the brat would do anything else. Getting me in trouble was one of her favorite past times. If my dad found a boy in my room, not only would I be grounded for the rest of my life, but I’d get a lecture from my mom for months. And if there was one thing southern women were good at, it was guilt trips.

“Go distract him!” I shrieked. Mags’ lips twisted and I groaned. Don’t know why I thought she would help me now. “How much is this going to cost me?”

“Forty.”

“What!? What the heck do you need that much for?” My sister’s main expenditure was candy at the corner store.

“I want to get Mom a Christmas present.”

Aww. Okay, that made my heart melt a bit. Mags may be a pain in the ass, but she had a sweet side. The instant I agreed, she took off, screaming that Dad needed to come and see her new bear. There was a reason I sent Mags out there. The nine year old was an amazing manipulator.

When our dad argued, she started crying and squealed, “You don’t love me as much as Shelby.”

Logan laid back on the bed and smirked.

“I like her.”

“Of course you do,” I groaned, “You’re both extortionists.”

Let’s just hope my sister could keep Dad occupied long enough to get the boy out of my room.