Page 18 of His Good Girl
Logan
My curiosity is even more piqued. What made her stop and panic? And who called her right afterward?
Hunching further into my coat on this dark, cold night, staring at Serena’s building from across the street, I wonder which apartment is hers. I know the number but not where it’s situated. Would she see me if she looked out the window, or is she on the other side? This game I’m playing is dangerous and could end up with me at the bottom of the river, but I can’t seem to move past this woman.
I had been on my way to find someone to take my frustrations out on but found myself stalking my own fucking office, waiting for Serena to leave. Standing there in the freezing cold, I pull my phone out and unblock Shelley’s number before dialing it. It rings and rings with no voicemail or no answer, so I hang up.
Deciding to go over there instead, I give one last lingering glance at Serena’s building and then turn away to make my way back across the city to Shelley’s building.
Putting a pair of leather gloves on, I press the buzzer and wait. When there is no answer, I punch in the code to the door that I obtained illegally and shove it open. I’d rather she let me in, but needs must when the devil drives.
Ascending in the elevator to the top floor, I step out when the doors slide open and knock firmly on her apartment door before I pull out the lock picking set. She isn’t at home; that much is clear, or she would’ve answered by now. Bending down, I set to work on the lock, slightly above the standard security, but not by much.
A few seconds later, the door clicks open, and I step into the dark apartment, shutting the door quietly behind me.
Moving forward, I hear the click next to my head and stop with a smile on my face, holding my hands halfway up to show her I’m unarmed.
“Knew you’d try something,” she hisses. “I’m not that easy to get rid of, lover.”
“Not my choice. You’re making waves, Shel. If I were you, I’d back away from Solitaire and forget about their existence.”
“Not going to happen,” she growls. “You want an action that costs me?” She shoves the gun barrel against the side of my head. “How about I kill you, the golden boy, and take your fucking place.”
If I were in any position to laugh, I would. There is no doubt in my mind that she wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger. She’s crazy enough. She’s desperate enough to be noticed by Solitaire, but I also know she doesn’twantto. This is a knee-jerk reaction for her.
“Lower the gun, and we’ll talk.”
“I’m not that stupid, Logan.”
“I know you’re not, which is why you won’t kill me. It will achieve nothing but Isaac coming for you.”
It gives her pause. Isaac tends to do that.
“You think very highly of yourself that they’ll even care,” she scoffs after a few seconds.
“Oh, they’ll care. You don’t know who I am to them.”
“Why don’t you fill me in?” She rams the gun harder into my head.
I drop my hands, having had enough of this game. As quick as lightning, I bring my hand up to clamp around her skinny wrist, drawing it down as I turn to her and take the gun with my other hand.
“Oww,” she exclaims when I tighten my grip and drag her over to the bedroom. “You’re hurting me.”
“Good.” I keep my hold on her while she struggles, but she is weak and slightly drunk. The fumes of alcohol on her breath are a dead giveaway as her erratic behavior was more in line with her crazy side. “You’re in way over your head, Shel. You have no idea who you’re messing with.”
“Fuck you,” she hisses.
Ignoring her as I root through her drawers for the tie I left here the other night. I find it mixed in with her underwear and pull it out.
Letting go of her, I shove the gun into the back of my jeans and grip the tie with both hands. She bolts, as I expected her to, but she stumbles in her inebriated state, falling over the edge of the bed to the soft carpet covering the floor. Looming over her, I wrap the tie around her neck and pull it tight.
She gags, her hands going up in survival mode. Her eyes wide, she begs, “Please, Logan, please.”
It soothes the darkness inside me.
Squeezing tighter, staring into her dark eyes, I let go of the tie as she gasps for breath, thinking she’s got away with her death today. She doesn’t know that this isn’t enough for me. She doesn’t know I need to feel her blood on my hands. Reaching into the inner jacket pocket of my coat, I draw out the small, sharp blade, seeing the cold steel glint in the lights from the city outside. Placing my hand on her chest to hold her down, she screams, scrabbling underneath me to get away.
“No! Please, Logan. I’ll back off, I swear, please.”
