Page 42 of Left In The Dark

Logan glanced between me and the car, brows arching. His feet moved back, lips pressing tightly together as he continued to peer over my shoulder.

Lips quivering, I finally spoke. “I didn’t . . . I wasn’t . . .”

Hayden stopped my next words from getting out and everything happened so fast. I couldn’t stop him and I couldn’t say no. Logan’s face was pointed to the ground and I needed him to say something. Anything. He was breathing heavily, drooling into the dirt and replaying his demands from earlier didn’t work. All I heard was the only voice sounding around me. Hayden’s.

Before I knew it the cattle prod was in my hand and I was joining in on Hayden’s twisted activities. I was on autopilot at that point, doing what was expected of me, and afterward I got absolutely nothing from it. Much like the other times. No satisfying buzz or high when Hayden was happy I obeyed. Nothing I should have experienced while being at that fucking tower.

I didn’t have Logan’s encouragement in my ear. I didn’t get my escape or my good boy. Never had I felt so trapped in the life I hated until then. Caged in with not much room to move. I didn’t choose for Hayden to be around me so much, but all choices bringing me to Logan were my own, and now I’m more than sure I’ve lost him. The names he called me—whore and slut—I didn’t mind them because they weren’t baby or cutie. No sweetheart or sugar. They gave me the separation I needed. He gave me that.

And yes he gave me orders, but they were never forced on me. I didn’t have to wait to orgasm, but I did it because I wanted to. Something inside me still wants to, shutting down the idea of jerking off in the shower as soon as it comes. No, you can’t. Not until Saturday. Except Saturday isn’t coming after all. Unless . . . unless I can somehow get him to forgive me again. Whether I deserve it or not is another thing.

I grab my phone again and go to Logan’s name. After typing my message, I delete it, write it again, and then hit backspace. I toss the phone on the nightstand and all day it taunts me. What if he agrees to another make‑up dinner or movie? Then what? Not like this can grow into more. I want him now but any type of attraction I have for anyone eventually fades. Being around him more than I already have is also a risk.

What if Hayden and the others run into us? Shame hits me, like yesterday, and I don’t know if it’s from the thought of being seen with him or them barging in on us.

I try to read but all I can hear in my head is Hayden oinking in my ear, getting me to join him while laughing in my car when he starts growing suspicious of me again. I didn’t stop him from kissing me either, the taste of his tongue in my mouth souring my taste buds before I finally squirmed away.

The night was never supposed to end with us together. It wasn’t. But I’m a fucking coward, and no matter what choice I made, it would have been the wrong one for someone. This way it only gained me one enemy. At least that was my logic at the time. More people would have rooted against me for dating Logan, or even for being his friend, than supported it.

My dad really does hate his family. He called his dad a sorry excuse for a farmer and his mom a sad little housewife. “Don’t even get me started on that son of theirs,” he once said. “Cursed with a future leading nowhere the day he was produced by those two. I better never see you hang around him.”

Not only didn’t I hang around him before, I made it hard for it to ever happen. I got him to hate me and painted a picture in my head of what others around me saw. This ugly loser who smelled like a barn and belonged in one with his pig friends.

Then I gave him numerous opportunities to show me who he really was and he’s none of those things. He’s . . . I let out a shaky breath, walking to where my phone is, chest heaving. He’s the first person who saw me. And in the dark, with confused eyes, he still did.

I reach for my phone, and when I’ve written a message I send it before I can change my mind. But it doesn’t go through. Chest tightening, I try again, and that one doesn’t send either. Blocked. I grab at my closing throat, crashing to my knees, and I can’t breathe. It’s true, because I didn’t feel wanted at home, I sought it elsewhere. It was a temporary fix and wore off quickly. They all became old news fast, but I can’t see myself ever getting over needing more with Logan.

It’s because I really can’t have him now. He’s cast me aside for good and my ego can’t handle the permanent rejection. I’ll go out and forget all about him by getting under a stranger. Aiming for the least likely to look my way may be all I need to forget about what won’t be happening tomorrow after all.

It’s not. Gnawing sensations took over after a man who was only in town for the weekend for work had me almost pantless in a bathroom stall, and I ran out of the bar. After only ten minutes of being back home, I look at my phone again, and pound at the screen when my call to him takes me staright to an automated message saying some bullshit about how the person I’m trying to contact can’t be reached.

As I’m setting my phone down, it pings, and there’s a happy leap in my heart that fades when I realize it’s a new email instead of a text message. It’s from the modeling agency I recently met with. The email is different from the one they used before, but all the info they have about me is correct and so is the description of the job we agreed on.

They want me to do the shoot sooner. Tomorrow morning. I have plans tomorrow after all. Not what I was originally looking forward to, but getting paid sooner is a good thing. I accept the date change and agree to come to the address given. The location is different too, but photo shoots are sometimes done at different places than the meet ups.

A knock at the front door has me jumping in place, and I drop my phone to my side as I slowly approach the door. Hayden is on the other side, smiling and holding up a flyer with the same picture he’d sent to my phone. Dread fills me. “Look who’s about to be very popular around town. Come help me post these on every street.”

“I’m busy.”

“Doing?” He looks behind me, lifting his head.

“Preparing for a shoot tomorrow. It’s really early in the morning and I have so much to do before then.”

“This won’t take long.” His fingers tighten around the paper and my eyes land on Logan’s face, the blindfold temporarily vanishing and those dark eyes piercing mine. There are unspoken words in them, guiding me.

“No,” I say with my voice shaking. “I don’t want to participate in your bullshit games anymore.”

My heart jumps into my throat when he slams his fist on the door frame. “Yes you do. You were always right there at my side, waiting to know what was next so you could show me how it was really done.”

“No, Hayden. I’m not doing it. Now leave me alone.”

“Or what? Not like you’ll do shit if I carry your ass to the car and take you with me anyway.”

“Fuck off,” I grit out, slamming the door in his face. The knob twists shortly after I lock it and there’s more banging.

“Open this door. Right now. I don’t know what’s going on with you but you better cut the bullshit soon, or I’ll make sure you’re tied to your boyfriend in front of the same fucking tree.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” My words vibrate through the door. “And threaten me all you want but it won’t change anything. I told you I don’t want to go and I’m not going to. I have other things to worry about and I’m sure you do too.”