This one won’t be any different.
Tillie
“You thought you could escape me? You’ll never get away, I’ll always find you because I own you,” Cruz whispers into my ear but I can’t see him. It’s so dark. An abyss but his voice seems to be everywhere at once. He’s right, I can’t escape from something I can’t even see.
“I’m coming.” He’s suddenly in front of me with chains in his bloody hands and the sound of them snapping around my wrists with an echo has my lungs desperately working to get air in. “I’m here.”
A loud gasp wakes me up, making me realize I was the one to make the noise and throwing me out of my nightmare. My head smacks against the bedroom door I slept against all night, I don’t trust anyone and wasn’t going to let my guard down to be vulnerable ever again. My eyes swing around the room and my shoulders sag when I realize I’m in a guest bedroom right across from Satan's room. I now understand the meaning where they say he fell from heaven, his beauty indescribable but angelic. Honey eyes that look past the outer layer of skin and see the inside to only take you apart piece by piece with his gaze. I bet he’s a man who cuts you open just to see if he was right and doesn’t bother to sew you back up.
Logan.
Tall, drop dead gorgeous, and dangerous. I read all that in seconds when our eyes connected as he towered over me, looking down as if I'd caused him physical harm but also he wanted to drag me away and lock the door as he watches me suffer before giving me what I need.
I’m not sure what exactly my body needs but when the guy dressed from head to toe in black with the smile of madness, dragged a blade down my neck, I didn’t feel like my life was in danger. I felt like he was playing a game but wouldn’t hurt me, only bring me so high that I would never want to come back down. I had to escape before they sucked all the air out of the room, tearing off my wet panties with their teeth without even trying. Logan’s father is just as intense as his son, both men who can set the world on fire and not care as everyone perishes in the flames. He looked at me with calculating eyes, not trusting me which makes him a smart man. A stranger comes into his home, in the middle of the night, soaking wet from the downpour, and begging to find a safe place even if it’s only for a little while. Hell, I’m still covered in dirt, a cut on my leg visible and my clothes stiffly sticking to my body. He must be nuts since he walked said stranger, that’s me, to their guestroom, opening the door to a room that made my jaw drop and said good freaking night.
Okay, he didn’t say that, more like,“This is where you will be sleeping, Tillie, hope you're comfortable and have a goodnight’s sleep. I’ll make sure the doors are locked up tight.”
Franco smiled tightly and raised a brow at me as if to say don’t think about leaving. I’ll be watching.
Message loud and clear buddy.
So I scoped out the room the minute the door was shut and this is how I came to be. A crick in my neck, a sore ass that fell asleep on the dark wood floor even though the king sized bed looked inviting… no way was I sleeping with my back turned towards the door where anyone could come in. My body blocked all access especially from the two men that spelled trouble. I heard footsteps coming down the hall last night as I was dozing off, stopping right on the other side, and a light tapping against the wood.
“Night, sugar, dream of me. Naked would be best if you're having a nightmare, at least it’s something hot to look at.”
Tey chuckled darkly as Logan’s honeyed voice told him to leave the stray alone. He’s not completely wrong, I am a stray. No place to call home, a desperate girl just trying to live.
Stretching my hands over my head, I grimace as the cut on my leg burns from the motorcycle accident. Looking down, it’s not bleeding but it looks a tad angry on my calf. I’ll be so pissed if I’ve come this far to die from an infection. Glancing around with clearer eyes, the sun peaks through the billowing white curtains that draw me closer to look on the other side. French doors lead to an Italian brick balcony right outside my room on the second floor, and down below is a pool glistening under the California sunshine that is almost as big as the mansion. This is completely opposite of what I’m used to and it kind of freaks me out, turning away from the window, I take a look around the guest bedroom I’m calling mine for now. Dark wood floors with a light grey rug that the bed sits on, a white bed frame with sheer drapes that wrap around the banisters and gives the illusion of privacy. My small, duffle bag looks pathetic in the walk-in closet with only two outfits I have to my name. I really don’t fit in with this rich lifestyle but at least I can clean up my appearance before hitting the road again and finding somewhere I can disappear for good.
The shower is calling my name, with blood and dirt covering me with layers that even the rain couldn’t wash away, so it would probably be best if I clean up before heading downstairs with a fake smile.
Opening the door opposite of the closet reveals the bathroom, this is what dreams are made of. Glossy, black marble floor, a huge tub to fit at least five people, a standing walk-in shower with multiple shower heads, and floor to ceiling tinted windows that overlooks the lush acres of green grass. I’ve never seen grass that green and once again the wonders of having money blow my mind. That has to be extremely expensive especially living in California.
What the hell did I walk into? A closed door across the bathroom has a lock, I quickly snap it into place because I’m pretty sure this is a Jack and Jill bathroom but I’m not taking the chance of Satan walking in on me naked.
My face in the mirror makes me gasp out loud, the way I look right now makes me question if the people living in this house are butt ass crazy. I really do look like a drowned rat with my hair knotted and sticking up in every direction, my clothes wrinkled and sticking to my body like a dirty second skin. Clothes fly across the room as I struggle to get out of them in a fight to the death. Breathing heavily from my struggle, I twist the knob for the water to be so scolding hot that it feels like the Devil is licking my skin with his hot tongue.
I will not think of that hothole Logan licking me. The last thing I need in my life is a man controlling me. That man had a possessive gleam in his gaze last night that didn’t frighten me. It made me burn. Seeing his honeycomb eyes filled with enough shadows like my own, it called to me, sucked me right in and I let it take hold without the thought of it hurting. Maybe I’ve been through so much that I’m finally taking the leap to live even when it feels like I’m going to have a heart attack.
Stepping under the hot spray eases my shoulders and melts me on the spot from all the showerheads beating down on me, washing away my past one step at a time. I wonder what it was like growing up like this, not having to worry about if you’ll make it to eighteen or eventually being forced to live on the streets.
I reach for the shampoo on the built-in shelves since I don’t have any in my duffle bag, the smell drawing me in. It reminds me of breathing in a forest for the first time, pine trees with that fresh smell only nature can bring. A smile easily spreads across my face as I lather my hair with my eyes closed and tilt my head back to rinse off. I freeze with my hands threaded in my hair when the shower stall door silently opens, my eyes popping open in shock as Logan steps under the spray opposite of me. He just stares with those intense, honey eyes and leans around me to grab the body wash without looking away from my widening eyes.
I can’t move, hardly breathe. I’ve never been this exposed in front of a man without him wanting something from me or just taking it, but Logan just stands there watching me like it’s no big deal we are showering together as he washes his body. The suds trail down his olive tone skin, making my pulse pound away as he rinses off under the spray. It’s at that moment I realize my hands are still in my hair, back arched and my breasts thrust out. Quickly dropping my arms, I cross them over my chest and start backing away.
“What’s wrong, baby girl? Are you afraid of me? Nothing I haven’t seen before.” He smirks as he looks me up and down as if he finds me lacking.
My tattoos make me self conscious under his stare with my scars that are somewhat hidden behind the ink. My legs and arms are ink free but most of my back is covered, trailing its way around to my front to cover the knife wounds that were carved into my skin like an oil painting. My ribs are cursive designs of quotes and images that remind me of finding peace one day. Ride or die is scarred into my skin just below my right breast in cursive while the rest is swirling ivy vines displayed with butterflies and flowers that always captured my attention when I saw them in magazines. His eyes linger on them now, drawn back to them again and again with a sneer on his face that highlights his sharp cheekbones. He makes that disgusted face towards me look good.
I hate him already.
He smooths the curls on top of his head back, making his hair appear a dark brown as it’s slicked out of his face, and droplets of water cling to his long lashes as he stares down at me. I can’t help looking as his biceps flex, my eyes are drawn to his sculpted body of tight muscles. I’ve never seen a man so absolutely… strong and hard edges. Capable with lean but big hands, muscles that shift and strain each time he moves. His hand smooths down his chest as he continues watching me, moving down to wash his cut abs in slow movements that draw my gaze, just like he wanted. I can’t help eating him up which surprises me because honestly, I thought I was dead inside, that I would never be able to feel anything, but right now, by the swollen, needy feeling between my legs… I like what I see, a lot.
Those strong hands lead further down past his hips that form a perfect V, and down to a cock that makes me swallow hard. I can’t tell if I’m frightened or in awe because even his cock is perfect. Long, and thick with a slight curve that it almost scares me because that thing would wreck my insides from the angle and depth but it makes me rub my thighs together the longer I stare. Right about now is when I usually go into defense mood, blacking out eventually as he has his way with me and panic sets in but no more. I’m done being used, abused by men, it’s time I start fighting back because what else is there to live for if you're really not living?
His chuckle helps me look away quickly, blood rushing to my cheeks and pissing me the fuck off. He doesn’t have to do anything but stand there looking like God created him slowly, taking his time to make sure each part of him was made to cause pleasure. He’s going to make my life a living hell, I don’t need a man. All they’ve ever done is cause me pain, he can’t be any different.
“I’m not afraid of you. Oh, honey, didn’t you know?” I ask seductively, making sure my voice is raspy to lure him in just like I was taught to capture a man’s attention.
