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Authors: Nashoda Rose

Tags: #na, #new adult, #dark contemporary

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BOOK: Torn from You
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Logan told me to stand then looked me up and
down, and then, as if satisfied, nodded and reached out his hand. I
walked toward him and took it.

“I wanted to keep you hidden from this, but
that isn’t going to happen. You need to learn to tune out what is
happening around you. Just like I taught you to overcome your fear
with anger, you need to overcome your emotions and bury them. Numb,
Emily. That is what it will take to survive.”

Why was he telling me this? So, I didn’t
freak out again? What did he care if I was tortured? He watched
another man shove his fat finger up inside me, did nothing as I was
whipped over and over again. Why does he care about me at all?

“Come.” He pulled me after him, and we made
our way through the massive house, girls passing us, heads lowered,
never making eye contact. Several guards wandered the premises, and
I noticed some of the doors had a guard standing outside of
them.

Logan ignored everyone and walked with long
strides through the complex down a path to another building that
had two guards standing on the outside. When they saw Logan they
opened the double doors and nodded to him.

I kept my head down, but I tried to see as
much as I could as we passed what looked like a set of weights then
several red punching bags where two men were currently working
out.

Logan stopped. “Stay here.”

I waited, hearing the constant sounds of
smacks and grunts as men trained. In front of me was a platform
where two guys were sparing. I couldn’t get a good glimpse without
raising my head, and in a room full of men I didn’t want to take
the chance of anyone seeing me. I was learning fast about what was
expected of me, and the pain and humiliation was far less if I kept
my mouth shut and my eyes down.

Was that weak? No, it was survival. There’s
a time and place where I’d fight, and I would. I didn’t know if it
was in me to ever give up. I’d never given up on my dream to ride
horses. My mom was an alcoholic who insisted I was useless, ugly,
and fat, so I did what I had to ... I worked after school since I
was sixteen and saved every cent. Then at eighteen I moved in with
Kat and her brother Matt. It was Matt who let me borrow his car so
that every weekend I could go to the stable.

“Emily.” Logan’s voice slammed into me, and
I looked up at him. He frowned, and I quickly lowered my head
again. He chin-lifted to a spot over to the right of the ring.
“Kneel over there. I’ll come get you when I’m done.”

He wanted me to kneel on the cement floor?
To stay there and wait for him like a dog? Why didn’t he stick a
prong collar on me while he was at it? My thoughts must have been
vivid in my expression, because he grabbed my arm and walked me
over to where he wanted me to kneel and pushed me down.

I opened my mouth.

“No.” His abrupt, cold warning was enough to
have me looking at my hands in my lap. He nodded to the left, and
my eyes looked in the direction, but I was careful to keep my head
down. My chest tightened when I saw Jacob, Alfonzo, and Raul. They
were near the door talking to a guy hitting a speed bag.

I stiffened when they began their approach,
and my entire body was already running and hiding in one of the
cupboards on the other side of the room. A foolish and completely
useless thought, but when men you feared were coming toward you,
well your mind came up with the most ridiculous ideas.

“Sculpt,” Raul said. “Where’s Dave?”

“On his way.”

“Good.” Raul’s eyes shifted to me, and I
quickly lowered my head even further. “I have a shipment coming in
that needs to be checked out. After training, you and Alfonzo will
go look after the contents.”

I knew how angry Logan was by the slight
twitch of his index finger on his left hand. He wasn’t happy about
Raul’s request or, rather, his order. “Send someone else.”

Raul slapped Logan on the back and chuckled.
“If I wanted someone else to go, I’d have asked them.”

“I fight. I’m not one of your men.”

Raul shrugged then reached down and grabbed
me by the hair and pulled me to my feet and shoved me at Alfonzo.
“You’re right. You’re not one of my men, and my fighters don’t get
slaves as they are a distraction.” Raul nodded to Alfonzo. “Get her
out of here. Put her up on auction. Forty thousand.”

My eyes widened with panic as Alfonzo leered
down at me. His beady eyes laughed at the fear trembling through my
body.

“I’ll do it.” Logan’s tone was cold and
calm, but loud enough for Raul to take notice and hold up his hand
to Alfonzo. “Let her go.” Logan glared at Alfonzo, and I thought he
might smash his fist into his face. “Now.”

“Let her go, Alfonzo.” Raul’s thin lips
pressed together as he stared at me, and I had the impression that
he wasn’t pleased with the fact that Logan had spoken up for
me.

Alfonzo shoved me forward, and I fell on my
knees in front of Logan. I kept my head down, my tears of relief
hidden behind my veil of hair.

The door opened with a loud bang; then
running feet came toward us. “Sorry I’m late. Let’s do this,
Sculpt.”

Logan didn’t wait to be excused by Raul. I
saw his feet turn, and heard him walk away, leaving me with Raul
and the others.

“Don’t think he’ll protect you all the
time.” Raul leaned over as he spoke in his squeaky, accented voice.
He reached out, and it took everything inside me to remain as still
as possible. I clenched my teeth together so hard that my head
vibrated. His fingers slid through my hair then to my shoulder and
across the front of my neck then down ... His hand cupped my breast
as he ran his thumb back and forth over my nipple.

I kept my eyes closed and repeated over and
over in my head that nothing could touch me, nothing could touch
me.

“If he loses his fight you’re mine.” Raul
squeezed my nipple hard, and I winced. “You’re like all the rest.
Do not think you’re anything special.”

With that he stood and strode away with
Jacob and Alfonzo. I collapsed forward, my hands covering my face
as I sobbed, letting my hair fall forward so no one could see. Raul
was terrifying. Calculated and cruel. He enjoyed watching others
suffer. He had no morals or values and did what he wanted without
thought to the ramifications for others. It was dangerous. He was
dangerous.

“Emily. Look at me.” Logan was standing in
the ring, sweating and his chest heaving. Our eyes met, and I saw
the fury burning within the depths of his dark eyes. I didn’t know
whether he was angry at me, because I’d been crying or was it from
something else? He stared at me for a few moments and finally I
settled down enough to stop trembling. Then Logan nodded, turned
away, and began fighting Dave again.

I had no idea what Logan’s stare was about,
but I did feel more together ... Well, as together as I could be
kneeling in a gym surrounded by men who could and would abuse me if
given the chance.

I guessed it was about an hour when Logan
finished his practice. I watched him speak quietly to Dave away
from the other men in the gym, and he didn’t look happy. I saw Dave
glance over at me, then his mouth moved quickly and angrily as if
he was just as pissed off as Logan.

When Logan turned toward me, I quickly
lowered my head and kept my eyes down. I stayed that way until I
saw the tips of his toes next to my knees.

“Dave will take you back.”

My breath hitched, and I wanted to protest,
but I didn’t. I couldn’t. The fear of the consequences was too
great to ignore. “He won’t hurt you, Emily.”

“Yes ... Master.” I wanted to die. Oh God, I
wanted to curl up in a ball and die of mortification. Calling him
Master was degrading, and it made me feel like less of a person,
like my mother used to do. A useless object that took up space and
ate her food.

Logan stroked his hand over my head once
then turned and walked away.

I stood when Dave told me to, then walked a
few feet behind him back to my room. I never looked at anyone, not
even out of the corner of my eye. I had no idea what Dave would do
to me, and that was scarier than knowing. I’d been too drugged to
remember much of what he was like in the car on the way here, but
what I did notice was that he failed to have the lust lingering in
his eyes when he looked at me. Instead, I saw sympathy and pity. I
hated the pity, but I’d take it over Alfonzo’s lust-filled
threats.

Dave stopped outside my room. “He’ll protect
you when he can. But he’s faltering. Do exactly as you’re told, and
you will survive this, Emily.” I was taken aback by his words. He
opened the door, and I walked inside. He shut it behind me, and I
heard the key turn and then his footsteps walk away.

 

I was asleep in bed when I heard the door
open later that evening. I sat up, pulling the sheet with me, and
about to go kneel on the floor when his voice stopped me.

“Stay in bed.” His tone was tired and
gentle, quiet.

He walked straight into the bathroom, shut
the door, and I heard the taps turn then the water blast. I lay
back down and tucked the sheet around me. It wasn’t long before he
came out, the light in the bathroom illuminating his naked
body.

The tweak between my legs shattered any
resolve I had to not be attracted to this man. My belly dropped as
I watched him stride over to the side of the bed and then drag the
covers back with the sheet tucked under me.

He slipped in bed then laid back, his elbow
crooked above his head and his other arm resting on his abdomen. He
looked ... God, he looked like Logan. The Logan I knew. The Logan I
fell in love with. There was nothing cold about him tonight;
actually he appeared vulnerable, and his eyes ... his eyes held a
hint of sadness. Could this man even feel sadness? Could I be
reading him wrong? I’d read him wrong before, and yet ... I wanted
to hold him. I just wasn’t sure why.

Was it because I felt alone and scared, and
I wanted someone? Anyone? Even if it was the man who brought me
here? Or was it to solidify my place with him? To show him
affection so he wouldn’t be inclined to sell me.

I slowly moved closer to him, my heart
beating erratically with fear of rejection, and yes ... yes,
anticipation of touching him. Not because I had to touch him, but
because I wanted to. I glanced up at his face, and his eyes were
closed, his breathing even.

I pictured us lying beside one another in
the park after he’d played me his guitar and sang to me. That
wasn’t a lie was it? How could it have been? It felt real and
sincere.

I held my breath as I slipped my hand on top
of his lying on his stomach. His breathing remained the same, and
his eyes remained closed. I moved closer, my body inches from his,
soaking in his heat, then I lay my head on his chest.

“Mouse,” he whispered, and then his arm
wrapped around me and tucked me into his side.

I sighed, and a few minutes later I was
asleep.

 

 

 

Day 9

It was still dark when I woke. My head was
nestled on Logan’s chest, and his arm was around me, fingers slowly
caressing up and down my back. I knew he was awake; I could hear
his breathing, and it wasn’t slow, long breaths, but ... awake
breaths. I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to speak, but there was
something in Logan that changed when we lay together like this. So
I took the chance, and I shifted my head up, my cheek sliding over
the smooth, hard muscles of his chest.

He was watching me, and when I met his eyes
my breath seized. I was caught in the trap of his desire that was
swimming in the dark depths. Controlling my reaction was ... well,
it was impossible. He still could turn me on with one look, and all
the sweet flooded back to me like being hit by a tidal wave.

“Logan.” I stiffened after I said it.

He sighed and then closed his eyes. When he
opened them again, I saw what looked like haunted turmoil.

I wanted to kiss him, touch him, feel him.
Crush him to me and take away all the fear and just ... I just
wanted to feel protected and loved by him again.

My lips were close to his chest, and I
couldn’t stop myself as I kissed him. It felt as if it was a
goodbye to everything we’d lost and sadness filled me. Especially
when I realized that he hadn’t lost anything, he’d gained. A single
tear escaped to land on his skin.

I started to pull away and he groaned then
his arm tightened around me. When I looked at him again, there was
no anger, no aloofness, just Logan. The Logan I knew and ... yes,
loved.

“Eme,” he whispered.

The scorching flame between my legs was lit
with hope, desire, and need. I craved this man; I loved him, and I
wanted him back, but I was scared too. I was afraid of what these
feelings would do to me when he turned around and became the man I
feared.

BOOK: Torn from You
2.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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