Page 111 of Ghost Hunted

Sometimes it feels like my life is made up of loss. Cruel, ironic loss.

“Logan.”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve been saying your name for the past ten minutes,” snaps Lia, pulling me out of my thoughts. “I want to go out.”

“Uh huh.” I sit down on the bed beside her, shoving my cell phone into my pocket, my mind still in a daze.

“Can we go out? The doctor said he’d take off my brace in a few days. And it hardly hurts at all anymore. There’s really no reason to keep me locked up anymore.”

On the contrary. There’s never been a better reason to keep you locked up.

“Soon,” I say vaguely, stroking over her back and ass.

“Logan!” She hits the mattress in frustration, then lets out a pained whine. “I’m not suicidal anymore. So just let me go out!”

“It’s not just that,” I tell her, semi-truthfully. “We haven’t heard from the Puicin Gang in a while, but that doesn’t mean they’re not still out there and looking for you. And we don’t even know why.”

“Well, they gave me my memory back,” she grumbles, wriggling her ass underneath me as she tries, in vain, to escape my hand. “Maybe they’re not that bad.”

“If they weren’t…” I pause, trying not to mention Jane, since she hasn’t, and I haven’t yet decided how, or if, I should broach the subject. “They wouldn’t have tried to chop off your feet.”

“Ugh.” She shudders, trying to sit up again, but the weight of my hand on her ass keeps her in her sprawled position. She sighs, closing her eyes as I run my fingers over her body. “You could at least let me come, Logan,” she teases, parting her legs to show me the damp spot on her panties. “That’s the very least you could do, to make up for being such an asshole. I’ll stay very still…”

“No, baby. I don’t want you to stay still when I make you come. I want you to wriggle around like a fish on a hook and scream. We’ll wait until you’re all healed.”

She lets out a curse under her breath.

“I love you so much, baby,” I murmur, continuing to stroke and knead her thick ass. “I told you you’d be free, and I meant it. But until the Puicin Gang...”

“And when you’ve gotten rid of them, it’ll be another excuse,” she sighs. “I know you, Logan. I know there’s no way I’ll ever be free while I’m around you.”

“Of course you will be,” I say, nibbling on her earlobe. “Don’t talk like that.”

“Well, don’t lie to me!” She tries yet again to get up, but I pin her to the mattress with an arm, and she huffs out in frustration. “I bet the Puicin Gang don’t even want to kill me,” she adds. “Maybe they just don’t want me to have feet. Why would they have restored my memory if they were going to kill me after? Unless they’re a bunch of sadistic assholes who wanted me to understand why they were going to kill me?”

“Very good, baby,” I tell her, kissing her on the tip of her nose. “I think you hit the nail on the head. The Puicin Gang wanted to give you back your memory so that you understood why they were killing you. Which means they do want to kill you, and now that your memory’s back, nothing is stopping them. Nothing but this tower, because there’s no fucking way they could ever breach it. So you’re going to stay in this apartment like a good girl until it’s safe for you to go out.” Before she can protest, I slam my lips against hers. “The very second you’re not in danger anymore... you’ll be free.”

“Logan!” she whines.

I smirk at how cute she looks, struggling so helplessly under the weight of my palm. Part of me is definitely going to miss the neck brace. Though I guess I don’t need one to keep her helpless. “Logan, you’re such an asshole! I just want to go out. I want to get, like, a Starbucks, or go to the movies. And not feel like you’re breathing down my neck every second, or tracking me on my phone, or asking me what I’m doing every second of every minute…”

“I won’t do any of those things,” I promise her, “because I know what you’re doing. You’re staying inside this apartment.”

“Logan!”

“Lia, even if you weren’t in danger, you’re depressed. I’m not sure I believe that you’re not suicidal anymore. I just need to look after you. That’s all.”

She punches a pillow in frustration. “Well, maybe I wouldn’t be so depressed if you didn’t keep me locked up!”

“Well, maybe I’d rather you were depressed and in my hands, than out in the wild and… happy.”

I kiss her cheek as she gasps. “That’s a shitty thing to say, Logan. I really hope you’re joking.”

I thought I was, but when the words left my mouth… they didn’t exactly feel like a lie.

I’m freaking myself out these days. Sometimes, I don’t even recognize myself. Standing up abruptly, I hurry out of the apartment, making sure, as I always do, to turn the lock in the door.