Addiction

Chapter 28-3

THE DOORBELL ECHOED throughout the beach house as Sophie climbed out of the shower. She'd spent the day cleaning Logan's place from top to bottom, bored and with nothing better to do. She could hear Logan's voice as he pulled the door open. “What the f**k do you want?”

“I need to see her,” came the hesitant reply.

Sophie felt her body tense up as she wrapped a towel around her hair. He was the last person she wanted to see. Throwing on Logan's borrowed terry robe and cinching it tightly at the waist, she slipped her feet into a pair of flip-flops and joined the pair at the door just as Logan growled, “she doesn't want to see you.”

“Logan.” She put a hand on his bicep, which was vibrating with anger. “It's okay.”

He looked at her as if she were crazy, which she supposed she must be to even contemplate giving Taylor the time of day. “If you say so.”

Turning her head and planting her gaze firmly on Taylor's guilty face, she lifted her chin. He looked well. He certainly didn't appear as if he'd lost any sleep. She wanted to smack his face for having the cheek to turn up here. “What do you want, Taylor?”

“Look,” he replied, shuffling his feet. His hands were buried in the pockets of his cream slacks and a blush spread across his face as he raked her with his gaze. “I want to apologize,” he continued. “Things weren't what they seemed.”

She laughed, amusement in her tone as she whispered, “oh really? So you weren't f*****g some slut in the shower? I imagined it, I suppose?”

Logan tensed beside her, his bicep where she still rested her fingers flexing. She ignored the imp inside her mind that said to let Logan deal with her ex; that was cowardly.

“Soph,” he pleaded, his knuckles bleaching white where he gripped the door. His other hand was planted solidly against the wall, effectively framing Sophie as she stood facing her ex.

With a quick squeeze of his arm, she stepped forward. “I have nothing to say to you, Taylor. I don't even care how long it was going on.”

“That was the only time, I swear!”

She could almost pity him, standing there, guilt and regret stamped on his features as he gave Logan a wary look. “I hope you enjoyed it,” she spat, turning away. “I hope it was worth it. Now please, if you're done, I have things to do.”

“Sophie, please listen to me.”

“No!” she whirled on him. “I don't want to hear it. We're done, Taylor. Done. I never want to see your face again.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” he snarled, one side of his mouth curled in disgust. “Back to playing happy families with him,” he thrust his chin in Logan's direction. “I mean look at you. Damn, you're even wearing his robe.”

She glared. “What's that got to do with anything?”

Taylor laughed, the sound like a whip, cracking and cruel. “Maybe you were enjoying a little time in the shower yourselves,” he accused, eyes glued to Logan's hair where it was still damp from his own shower.

She couldn't believe he was standing there accusing her of being with Logan. Taylor, of all people knew how much Logan meant to her. “You're sick,” she flung at him.

“Me? I'm not the one who whispers the name of my stepbrother in my sleep. I'm not the one who can't see exactly what he'd like to do to you. And I'm not the one who has to live with that shame.” His mouth had transformed into a cruel twist. His words were blades that cut deep.

“No,” replied Logan, one hand pressed to her midriff to shove her behind him. “You are the one who's going to get his ass kicked. Right. Now.”

At last realizing the danger he was in, Taylor backed away, scrambling for the keys to his car. “Whatever, I'm out of here. Enjoy your lives together.”

He made it to the door of his car before Logan's large hand descended upon his shoulder, turning him around forcefully. “I didn't say you could go,” Logan whispered.

Sophie trembled in the doorway, her mind a jumble. She tried to think of a reason, any reason for Logan to release Taylor and came up empty. When he was angry, Logan had what she liked to call selective hearing. “Logan!” she called. “Please, he's not worth it. Come back inside.”

He ignored her, his nose a bare inch from Taylor's as he hissed. “You take your ass home and don't ever even think of returning.”

Taylor nodded emphatically as Logan purposefully turned his back on the fight. Sophie relaxed, every tensed up muscle seeming to sigh in relief.

Whether it was sheer stupidity or some dark masochistic tendency, Sophie didn't know, but the second Taylor opened his mouth, she knew there would be no more chances for him. “Why would I return here? Obviously she's moved on.” With a bitter twist to his lips he laughed. “But I'm curious. Did you two f**k as soon as she got here, or did you wait an hour?”

Logan's face turned white in anger, his jaw clenched tight. Sophie stepped forward, one foot on the doorstep as she reached for him. With a grunt, he shrugged her hands away and raced to Taylor who was busy trying to get his keys in the car door. What a fool he was, to think Logan would let that slide.

His fist connected with Taylor's jaw with a resounding meaty thump and she watched in fascination as her ex staggered away with both hands raised. “Hey,” he pleaded. “I didn't mean that. I was...I was angry, man.”

“Now I'm angry,” Logan grated, grappling with him. They ended up on the ground, Logan straddling Taylor's chest as he pummeled him. With a gasp, Sophie ran from the doorway and grabbed Logan's arm as it came up to smash him again. “Logan!” she cried. “Please. Stop.”

He glared at her. “You heard the s**t he said. f**k that.” He twisted out of her grip, punching Taylor in the face again. His eyes already swelling, Taylor held both hands up in supplication. “He deserves it.”

“I know,” she whispered close to his ear. “I know he does, but please. Just let him leave. I just want him to leave.”

A growl of frustration tripped from his lips as he stood, his eyes stabbing at the prone figure of her ex. “Get him the f**k into that car before I kill him.”

With an angry snarl he strode into the house as Taylor raised himself from the gravel. “Sophie,” he began but she cut him off with a wave of her hand.

“Enough. Leave.” She left him still dazed and hurting on the ground and scrambled inside to find Logan pacing in the living room.

“I can't believe you stopped me!” he ground out. “I can't believe I let you. Where is the bastard?”

“He's gone,” she whispered, approaching him carefully. “Logan, the things he said, they were...”

“Sick,” he muttered. “I heard you. I know.” His eyes pinned her in position as she leaned against the wall.

Sophie fidgeted, wondering what she could say that wouldn't further enrage him. “I need a drink. And,” she decided, striding toward the kitchen. “I want to forget he ever existed.”

“Pour me one,” Logan demanded, still full of pent up fury. The sound of an engine revving accompanied the gurgling sound of wine being poured into glasses. “I want to forget how much I'd like to finish what I started.”

Handing him a glass of wine, she raised hers towards him. “To protective brothers,” she announced. “Drink up and I'll bandage your hands.”

He seemed shocked at the bruised and scraped knuckles he was sporting. “To Champagne Chimp,” he grinned. “May his face be deformed.”

They laughed, the tension depleting as they drank. “To forgetting and moving on.”

“That's a toast I can get behind,” Logan grinned. “To alcohol. May it aid in our forgetfulness.”

*