The Logan Brothers - Books 1-4 (EXPOSURE, CRASH, TWIN PASSIONS, and ADDICTED TO YOU!)

Chapter 44





Oh my f*cking God how had things come to this. I was about to be party to murder. If my mother could see me now I wonder what she'd say. I doubt she'd give many words of support. But then again, did I have a choice?

I'd been forced into a corner  by a f*cking monster. Charles Logan, a man who appeared a pillar of  the community to many, was a callous warlord in his own world: a man  who'd manipulate anyone to get what he wanted. Unfortunately, he'd  forced his own son into a corner as well, and you know what they say  about cornered animals. They don't play nice.

I sat in a coffee shop, my  hands cupping a warm mug, waiting. I was dressed as ordered - sexy  lingerie covered by a tight black dress, all obscured by a long  overcoat. I wore my hair up, my neck adorned in expensive jewelry,  sparkling silver against my warm colored skin.

A man approached. Was it him?  Surely not, he didn't look right.

“You fancy some company  love?”

He was gruff and coarse, too  long without a shave - or a wash. Not who I was waiting for.

I waited longer, my mug running  empty, the ceramic turning cool in my hands. I turned my look out  the window, watching cars rush by on the busy street. Then, a black  car pulled up outside and a man stepped out. He looked more appropriate, wearing a suit and tie.

He walked through the door and  set his eyes on me.

“Miss Grey?”

I nodded.

“Your car awaits.”

“Thank you.”

I stood and walked out of the  cafe behind him. He opened the door for me  and I stepped in. The inside was covered in cream leather, the  windows blackened. Just as I'd ordered.

Without a word the driver  pulled out and onto the busy street. I knew where we were going. I  was a flower and Charles Logan was the honeybee. Tonight he'd get  what he deserved.

I was moving in a world of  cloak and daggers, a world where anonymity was paramount, where you  couldn't trust anyone. I'd booked the car under a false name, paid  for it with cash, chosen a random cafe from which to get picked upfrom. Kyle had told me to leave no paper trail at all, nothing to  connect me to the crime he was about to commit.

We arrived at the hotel and I  stepped from the car. It was a process I was familiar with - another  hotel, another client, another job. Only this time, it would be my  last.

The order had come direct from  Logan's mouth - what to wear, where to go, when to arrive. Kyle had  been right, he wanted me to turn to prostitution, and he always  liked to sample the goods first himself.

For all his rules, for all the  standards he set his own staff, his own sons, he wouldn't adhere to  them himself. He told me that he needed to make sure that any  potential girl was good enough for his clients, that they'd do a  good enough job. Only once he'd 'approved' them would they be able  to take the next step.

It was something Kyle had only  just become aware of, and presented us with the most precious of  opportunities. Charles Logan was keen to ensure that no one knew  about his secret, that no one knew he took the girls for himself. Ifthose who worked for him found out, it would shatter the foundations  of his business.

Tonight Mr Logan would be in a  hotel room, under a fake name, and no one would know of his  whereabouts, no one would know what he was doing. He will have made  sure nothing could trace him to the hotel room he was currently  waiting in, just like I'd done the same.

As I sat in the car I felt my  phone buzz in my purse and drew it out. The text simply read 801. I  knew it was the number of the hotel suite I was supposed to go to. I  relayed the information to Kyle and shut the phone off. The pieces  were coming together.

I walked straight through the  lobby of the hotel and towards the elevators. I kept my eyes from  the concierge behind the front desk, walking with purpose. It was a  big hotel, and he wasn't to know whether I was a guest or not.

I could feel the sweat on my  palms as the elevator rose through the floors. I had grown used to  foreign hotels and random suites, but not like this. I knew the man,  I knew what he wanted of me, and I knew how the night was going to  end. It made my heart do somersaults within my chest.

As I stepped from the elevator  I could see the suite right there ahead of me - 801 - the number  bright in my mind. I ducked my head as an elderly woman walked by  and entered the elevator behind me. I wanted no one to see my face.

I checked to the left and right  to make sure that the corridor was clear before knocking on the  door.

“Come in,” said the voice,  deep and cold.

I walked through the door and  looked upon the suite, large and luxurious, a massive open plan  living room ahead of me with huge windows looking down over the  sparkling lights of the city. It was a new hotel suite, but a commonsight. The only clients I ever saw were those with pockets as deep  as the Mariana Trench.

“Alice,” came a voice in  the shadow, “so nice of you to come.”

I looked over to see Charles  Logan walking casually towards me from a darkened corner of the  room, two glasses in his hands.

“Have a drink, settle down.”

He passed me the glass and  ushered me over to sit in a chair. He sat opposite me, a coffee  table between us, and crossed his legs. He wore a suit, as he always  seemed to, and a look of detachment on his face.

“Tell me Alice,” he said,  his eyes not moving from mine, “how is it that you agreed to take  the step to prostitution so easily when only a few weeks ago Kyle  had attempted to wrest you from from my clutched altogether?”

His words hit me like a bus.  They were completely out of the blue. I thought that fact that I'd  offered myself to take the next step was enough. Clearly he didn't  trust me.

He looked on at me suspiciously  as my mind searched for an answer. I shut down my emotions and  hardened my tone, equalling his indifference as best I could. “It  was never me who wanted to quit. Kyle didn't want me dancing. I was  happy to keep doing so.” That much, at least, was true.

“I need the money, and I'm  not ashamed to use my body to get it.”

“Good,” he said, nodding  lightly. “So Mrs Jones did her job well then. She has completed  your sexual liberation. She truly does work wonders on even the most  delicate flowers.”

His words made my skin crawl,  the thought of his hands soon upon me turning my stomach. But for  now, I must maintain the illusion.

“She did,” I said, “I was  nothing before I met her.”

“And now?” he asked. “What  are you now?”

“A seductress,” I answered,  without thought.

“That you are,” he said,  dragging his eyes down from my face towards my body. “You truly  are something. Please, stand up.”

I obeyed his command. That was  my part to play in this.

“Remove your coat.”

I slid out of it and placed it  to the side.

“Now, stripping is one thing  Alice. Sex is quite another. It is a totally different performance,  one that I will test you on now. I understand how you must see the  hypocrisy in all of this.” He let his words hang.

“Hypocrisy?”

“Yes,” he smiled. “That I  punish my son for having a relationship with you only to indulge in  your flesh myself. It is a contradiction, is it not?”

“I haven't thought of it like  that,” I lied. “You're the boss. You can do as you like.”

I saw his smile widen, my words  convincing. “Yes. I am the boss. Now, remove your clothing.”

I stepped into my alter ego's  shoes - the confident stripper without sexual constraint - and began  slipping out of my dress. I didn't dance or perform, it wasn't what  he'd ordered. I merely removed my lingerie and stood there, naked,  in front of him, wearing nothing but my silver necklace and a fake  smile of excitement.

His eyes washed all over my  body. “Even better in the flesh,” he said.

Please Kyle, where the hell  are you.

“Now come here to me, I want  a closer look at you.”

I walked towards him and  stopped, his outstretched hand sliding up the outside of my leg, his  fingers moving over the bottom of my ass as it curved out. I  couldn't help but shudder at his touch and close my legs tighter.

He breathed deep and looked up  at me. “That will not do Alice. You must never react like that  with a client.”

He stood, his body raising up  above mine, my eyes now in line with his square jaw and strong chin.  He took my face in his hand and dragged me in for a kiss, his lips  cold and dry. I tried to be natural, tried to let myself go, but I  couldn't. I couldn't do this with him, not even a kiss.

He let my face go and looked  down at me, his face screwing up in anger. “My clients don't just  want a rag doll to f*ck Alice. If that was all they desired, you'd  be perfect. But they require more. You must be able to f*ck like aporn star.”

He turned away in disgust, and  walked over into the kitchen. He grabbed a glass and sunk a shot of  vodka. “Lie down on the couch and open your legs,” he ordered,  his back to me as he took another shot.

“I will warm you up. Then  we'll see what you're made of.”

I shook at I lay on the couch,  lying with my legs closed as he turned back towards me. I glanced  over at the door, willing it to open. Please, please open.

“I said, open your legs,”  he said, menacingly, as he walked back towards me, unzipping his  pants and slipping out of his jacket.

I shut my eyes as I let my legs  hang lose, hearing his body draw closer to me. “Open your f*cking  eyes. Don't be a child.”

I could feel his breath getting  warmer against me, his fingers creeping up my inner thing. I felt  sick, my body shaking in fear as I kept my eyes shut tight. I didn't  want to see what happened next.

“STOP!”

I opened my eyes fast to see  Kyle standing at the front of the suite, the door closed behind him.

“Don't you f*cking touch  her.”

He started walking towards us,  his eyes trained on his father.

“What the f*ck are you doing  here Kyle. How did you know about this?” He sounded startled, the  cool in his voice lost.

Kyle didn't answer. He merely  continued walking forward, his pace slow, every step carrying him  towards his purpose.

“This has been long in the  making you f*cking snake. All your talk, all your principles and  morals, and look at you. You're about to f*ck the girl that you  punished me for seeing. You would force Jen into killing a man.  You'd condemn Alice to life as a hooker for your own gain. You  f*cking sicken me.”

Mr Logan stood up straight, his  hands quickly zipping back up his pants. His voice grew more  intense, full of a simmering rage.

“How dare you speak to me  like that. I'm your father.”

“My father?” Kyle scoffed.  “Perhaps once, but no longer. You've ruined my life Charles.  Now I'm going to end yours.”

I lay hunched up on the sofa,  looking up at the drama as it unfolded. I could see the fear grow in  Mr Logan's eyes as Kyle pulled a gun out from behind his back, his  hands covered by black leather gloves. It had a long silencer attached to hide its intent.

“Kyle, what are you doing.”  His voice was breathless now, pleading. “I had no idea how much  you cared for Alice. It's OK, you can have her. Put the gun down,  and we'll forget about all of this. Alice, she can be yours.”

Kyle's expression softened  slightly at his father's words, the idea appealing.

He shook his head slowly. I  could only imagine what thoughts were going through his mind. His  weapon began to lower towards the floor, his eyes still set on his  father.

“No.” His voice was so  quiet now, growling through his clenched teeth. “You're a  manipulative snake, and I don't believe you. I'm sorry Charles,  but I have no option now.”

With that he quickly raised the  weapon and trained it on his fathers chest. I saw Mr Logan raise his  hands up and clench his face, a plead for him to stop trying to  escape his mouth. His words were cut short as a bullet punchedinto  his chest, ripping through his white shirt.

I looked at Kyle who stared on,  a tear trickling down the side of his face as he pulled the trigger  again, the force of the bullet sending Mr Logan stumbling back and  onto the floor. He gasped his final breaths as Kyle walked up to him  and looked down.

“I'm sorry father,” he  whispered, “you gave me no other choice.”

The blood began to spill out of  his chest, staining his pristine white shirt a dark red. Kyle looked  on, his eyes glistening with tears, as his fathers gasps ended, his  body going rigid on the floor.

Moments passed in silence as  Kyle stood there, unmoving, the pistol in his hand shaking.

“Dress quickly Alice,” he  said, his eyes still set in position, “we need to leave, now.”





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