Chance (13 page)

Charlotte was horrified,
thinking she'd rather hear them having sex than what they were doing. She
couldn't believe these guys were taking drugs…consuming illegal substances,
right there, at her wedding. Logan was right when he called them idiots. They
were scumbags!

Charlotte found herself
becoming extremely angry. It was so wrong. She briefly wondered if Logan knew
what they were doing in here. She resigned herself to the fact he probably did.
It would make the most sense if that were the reason why he'd gotten so angry
with Shez. He'd probably been the one who brought it there.

She also realized sadly,
and with much frustration, her little spying trip to the men's room hadn’t
revealed any further information about what Logan actually did for a living.
She'd already known these two unsavory men were clearly quite scared of him.
That was easy enough to determine once she'd seen them in the corridor together.
The only thing her spying had revealed was just
how
unsavory these guys
were.

Charlotte literally had
to force herself not to scurry out of the bathroom like a bat out of Hell,
right then. She wanted to be as far away from these guys as possible. However, upon
thinking about the situation before she acted, she realized it had taken too
much of a risk, as well as an effort to get into this position. There was at
least a chance of finally getting some answers about her husband.

She had a golden
opportunity that would be foolish to pass up. It could be her last chance to
get some precious information. How could she waste it, just because its source
was repugnant to her? She's a big girl who could stomach this if it meant she
might be rewarded with something more precious to her than diamonds. She
quickly decided she should stay a bit longer, just in case they said anything else.
Her bravery was rewarded.

“I still haven’t been
paid for the job we did last week,” Shez complained, over the sound of running
water.

Charlotte stood up and
pressed her ear harder to the door, in an attempt to hear their voices over the
water.

“Don’t worry; you’ll get
your money. You know Logan’s good for it. And he had that mess with the
Brackens to sort out.”

“
I
was the one who
sorted it out for him!” said Shez indignantly. “I put a bullet through his
goddamn head. Now the shit’s coming back down on us.”

Charlotte gave a silent
gasp, clasping her hand over her mouth.

“Don't worry about it. You
were just carrying out Logan’s orders. He knows what he’s doing. He's been
doing this shit long enough.”

“I know he does, but we
need to finish off the Brackens. There are too many loose ends, Orton. They already
know about the new shipment.”

“Look, you need to relax,
Shez, okay? Nothing’s gonna stop this job from coming through. You’ll get your
money and more. We’re all gonna make mega bucks by the end of this. Now, come
on…before we’re missed.”

The sound of running
water stopped suddenly and a shot of adrenalin coursed through Charlotte's
system as she heard footsteps approach the door to the stall where she was
hiding. She froze like a statue, holding her breath. The footsteps stopped
right in front of her. They were apparently separated only by a flimsy stall door
and some air.

"Look, what's
that?" Shez sounded as if he were mere inches from her.

"Shit! Don't let
that go! Grab it quick, before someone comes in!" Orton responded.

Charlotte heard a quiet noise
and saw the door of her stall move.

Oh no! Oh my God! They
must see me feet! They know I'm here! Shit!!!

Someone was touching
it! They were pushing on the door! Were they coming in? Did they somehow see or
hear her? Could they know she heard what they said? Would they kill her, too?
Would they tell Logan?

The door clattered again
as someone obviously moved while they were touching the door. Charlotte was
about to panic.

"Look…" Shez
said, as he seemed to be standing against the door to her stall, "It's a
friggin diamond ring, set in gold! It looks real. It's even stamped inside. The
gold's real."

"Let me see,"
Orton said, "Yeah, that's the real thing, alright. Let's get outta
here."

The door to her stall moved
once again when one of the guys pushed off of it in order to leave the room. As
they left, Charlotte heard them talking about how they were finally having some
good luck for a change. Their voices and footsteps grew quieter with their
increasing distance. 

Once she knew she was
alone in the room and the coast was clear, Charlotte let out a huge breath, as
she leaned against the wall of the stall. She tried to calm herself down from
her panic.

What the Hell was
Logan's business? Was he into drugs? Maybe he sold them. He was definitely involved
in murder! Plus, he's the boss! He might not have pulled the trigger this time,
but if he ordered other people to do it, that made him every bit as guilty as
them!

Her friends had been
worried about her being with him. It certainly looked as though they were
right! Now she's worried, too. She didn't know Logan at all. Apparently, she'd
had no clue about who he really was. She's been living with him, sleeping with
him. He's a criminal… the worst kind.

Oh my God! I've made such
a terribly huge mistake! I just married a murderer! Logan's a monster! What am
I going to do?

She peeked out of the
stall and saw she was still alone in the bathroom. Then she did the same with
the lounge. She dashed to the outer door and stepped through, deliberately
swaying a little for the benefit of anyone who might've been watching her leave
the Men's Room from the hallway or the reception. Luckily, she didn’t bump into
anyone.

She took the few steps to
the Women's room and entered the lounge then the bathroom, stepping into one of
the stalls and locking the door behind her. She leaned back against the door
shaking like a leaf. She was definitely not cut out to be a spy—or the wife of
a ruthless killer! She was a nervous wreck, overwhelmed and confused.

Charlotte had previously deluded
herself into the rather romantic notion that Logan was some James Bond type, on
dangerous missions and putting his life at risk for the sake of the country.
She'd naively convinced herself he couldn’t talk about his job because he’d been
sworn to secrecy by the government.

Wow, talk about wishful
thinking, she'd been practically delusional. She couldn't have been more wrong!
He was not a good man at all. He was a seriously bad guy. He's dangerously bad,
and she was in way over her head.

The conversation she'd
heard between Shez and Orton had opened her eyes to something she didn't want
to know and didn't know how to deal with. She was able to see things in a whole
new light.

Those guys certainly didn’t
look like the type of men she'd ever picture working for the government. Hell,
they didn't appear to be
any
kind of imagined 'do-gooder.' They looked way
more like stereotypical street thugs. If she had to cast them for a movie,
that's what they'd play—probably because that's what they were.

Shez and Orton came off
as tough and dangerous. They had tattoos and scars. They even had a rough way
of speaking. Of course, they’d just been snorting cocaine in the bathroom of
her wedding reception and talking about blowing peoples’ heads off.

What exactly was Logan's
business? Was he in the Mafia? Was he a drug dealer? What's he mixed up in that
I'm mixed up in by association?

She didn’t want to think
about it or even say the words in her head. However, ideas were already
beginning to form in the back of her mind and they wouldn’t go away. She wished
she'd wake up from this nightmare.

Is Logan some sort of…underworld
boss, a drug kingpin or something? Is he part of the Mafia? Last week, if what
I heard was true, Shez had killed someone because of Logan’s orders! There's a 'new
shipment' they'd mentioned. A shipment of what? Drugs? Stolen goods?

She shook her head to in
an attempt to clear it of the whirlwind of questions, which bombarded her. She
tried to swallow down the sickly panicky feeling in her chest. Well, regardless
of the answers of these disturbing questions, they didn’t matter, she told
herself. Logan was her husband. She loved him for who he was, not what he did.
She’d never known what he did before now, so why should it matter?

She flushed the toilet
without using it and kept repeating those words again and again.
It didn’t
matter. She loved him. He was her husband.
The words soothed her, like a
mantra. They gave her an out. She didn't have to do anything. She was never supposed
to know these things. Ignorance was bliss. Logan had warned her, and had been trying
to protect her by keeping her out of it.

Less than a minute later,
she was back at the table, pretending everything was perfectly normal. Logan had
obviously had a few drinks in her absence. He seemed totally oblivious of her
actions, as well as her underlying state of nerves. He was in a loud, almost
boisterous mood. He also seemed full of energy.

Logan insisted she dance
with him. Until that very moment, she hadn't given the idea of them dancing at
their wedding a single thought. It was not only their first dance as a married
couple, but also their first dance
ever
. They’d never danced together in
private or public, or even been to any clubs together. Logan wasn’t the type. He
was a private person, and had always taken her to sophisticated venues where
people sat, drank and talked. He was never one to be around a noisy dance
floor.

She was glad a song with
a relatively upbeat tempo rather than a slow ballad was playing. Charlotte was a
terrible dancer with no confidence. Luckily, she soon realized Logan was every
bit as uncoordinated as she was. This cheered her up a bit. It also gave her
the opportunity to let off some steam when she was able to laugh and tease him
over his terrible moves. The movement, laughter and humor added some much-needed
levity and served as a pressure release, of sorts.

As the drinks continued
to flow, Charlotte’s mood continued to lighten. She hadn’t forgotten any of
what she’d heard in the men’s room and she never would. However, she knew she
needed to learn to file it away in the back of her mind, to put those thought aside
and move on. She was married now, and they needed to get on with their future
life together.

Settling into married
life wasn’t particularly difficult. It helped they'd already lived together for
a few months before the wedding. So not much had changed by those standards. Their
routine remained the same as before their nuptials. They were already familiar
with each other’s habits and little idiosyncrasies.

Of course, one thing had
changed dramatically since their wedding, and it was seriously more significant
than the change of her last name or wearing a ring. Charlotte's awareness had
shifted. She knew things about her husband she'd never guessed about her fiancé
or boyfriend. Disturbing things she wished she didn't know. She was careful to keep
her promise to Logan to stop asking any further questions about his career, but
that didn’t stop her thinking about it all of the time.

She was certain now, Logan's
being shot, hadn’t been the result of his rather flimsy and lame story of a street
robbery that he'd tried to convince her and the police of. She was equally certain,
he was a career criminal and his gunshot was the direct result of his criminal
lifestyle. He was in a vocation that was bound to bring about danger and
violence.

The more she thought
about it, the more she realized just how blind she'd been all along,
not
to see the rather clear signs. Of course, hindsight was 20/20, as the saying
goes. It seemed to her now she'd been selectively blind. She simply didn't want
to connect the dots. The clues had all been there, since the beginning.

Now, it was obvious to
her Logan was mixed up in crime. His entire attitude oozed of a 'smooth underworld
boss' rather than a ‘slick, high class James Bond character’. He was so wealthy,
he'd cut them off from everyone else, having no friends or connections outside
of work. He was so secretive, kept odd hours; he had sudden unpredictable
changes in his temper and mood. He was prone to angry outbursts, and he'd grab
her. During those times, for a split second, she'd see the violence and hatred
in his eyes, and she'd be afraid of him.

She saw how he'd been
used to getting his own way, never accepting anything less. She saw his
commanding and controlling attitude, both outside and in the bedroom as well as
his constant demand for sex that she couldn’t refuse. His insatiable sexual
appetite had only gotten worse since they were married. However, she'd
committed herself to him. It wasn’t as if she could just walk out and leave him.
She wouldn’t want to anyway; her only concern was for Logan’s…and her own safety.

She knew what he was
doing caused him great stress. There'd been a few occasions since the wedding
when she thought he might hit her. Since she was very young, she never understood
why women stayed in abusive relationships with men who beat, controlled and
dominated them. In general, she retained that attitude. She told herself if
Logan ever hit her, she'd leave him immediately. She'd simply drop everything
and go.

However, Logan never actually
did hit her. Occasionally, he'd push her against a wall or down onto the floor.
He'd also grab her arm and twist it, apply pressure to painful areas of her
body to enforce an apology or submission from her.

At least, he’s never
hit me
, she reasoned
with herself. She tried to justify why she'd put up with his domineering,
controlling and abusive ways.

She knew the best way to
avoid arguments or triggering potential violence was to agree with him and just
give him what he wanted. It didn't matter if she believed he was wrong or if
she really didn't want to do as he demanded. It simply wasn't worth the
conflict. She'd tell him what he wanted to hear, she didn't answer back and she
avoided contradicting him. She just played along and followed the rules he'd
taught her.

For the most part, it
worked, but there were times when she just couldn’t help herself. She felt compelled
to speak her mind. Other times, a simple look would set him off. Even when no
words left her mouth, he could tell she disagreed with him by the look on her
face. That would cause a snowball effect; the more she denied it, the more he
accused her of arguing.

Before she met Logan,
she'd always been rather opinionated, picky and set in her own ways. She spoke
her mind and didn't care about the consequences. There had never been any major
ill consequences. Of course, her stubborn, strong will might've ended a few
relationships, but that hadn't mattered to her. She'd never really cared about
any guys before Logan. Charlotte couldn't quite understand how she'd changed so
dramatically. She hadn't a clue as to how she'd fallen under his spell.  

***

“Don’t go into work
today,” he said to her one morning, when she'd gotten out of bed to get ready
for work.

It was a Monday after
they’d spent a very enjoyable and relaxed weekend together. They’d slept late
on Saturday, made love twice followed by lunch at a small restaurant, then spent
an evening watching television. On Sunday, they'd slept late again and had more
sex. Then they'd spent the afternoon watching a movie at the cinema.

It had all been so
pleasant. Logan had been more cheerful and relaxed than she’d ever seen him.
She couldn't help but wonder if he’d pulled off some ‘big deal’ at work. In the
back of her mind, she couldn't help wondering if anyone was hurt or killed in
the process.

“Sorry, Logan. I have
to,” she sighed, almost wishing she could go back to bed and have another half
an hour of sleep.

“That wasn’t a request,
sweetheart,” Logan smiled, stretching up his arms.

“Don’t go into work today,”
he said more firmly, with a serious look to his eyes.

She stopped what she was
doing and turned around to look at him, while holding a cashmere sweater in her
hands. What did he mean by that? Was he kidding? She didn’t understand what he
was implying or what he was getting at with this conversation. She just stared
blankly at him, waiting to see what he did next.

“In fact,” he continued.
“Don’t go into work
any
day.
Ever.
”

“What? I don’t understand
what you mean,” she said, confused by his words.

“I’m saying,” he rolled
his eyes; as if a little annoyed she wasn’t understanding him. “I’m saying,
don’t go into work
ever. Ever again
.”

“Well, you know I can’t
do that, darling. I have a job to do. People rely on me.”

She smiled as if he'd
been joking and began to pull the sweater on over her head.

As quick as a flash, Logan
was up. He leapt across the bed at her, the covers flying to one side as he
tossed them off. He grabbed hold of the sweater she was putting on, ripping it violently
off her head and hurling it at the wall. Then he grabbed her arm with his other
hand and pulled her onto the bed with him.

“You’re not listening to
me, are you?” he growled menacingly. “I’m telling you to quit your job. Give it
up. Completely.”

She didn’t respond, aware
this was one of those moments where things could go very badly for her if she said
or did the wrong thing. He was already on edge, about to plunge over, and she
was scared where he'd go.

In the meantime, her
brain worked frantically, trying to figure out a safe way she might placate him,
but also to convince him she needed to keep her job. Charlotte believed she really
did need her job to say sane. She was totally cut off from the world because of
Logan. Her job was her only connection to the outside world.

Theoretically, she knew it
was more than possible she didn’t
need
to work—well, financially
speaking, at least. Of course, she had no idea how much money he made from
doing whatever it was he did for a living. She could just look around and know
money was not an issue for him. What she saw spoke volumes about his wealth. She
knew he was definitely,
at least
'comfortable' financially. He owned a beautiful,
huge house in a lovely neighborhood, drove a flashy car, wore expensive suits
and paid taxis to go everywhere.

It was always the same
taxi driver, too. She’d only noticed after the first couple of weeks they were
together. Of course, with everything she’d learned about him at the wedding,
she’d begun to suspect the driver was someone who worked for Logan, as well. He
seemed to always be around, ready to pick her up whenever she needed a ride
anywhere.

“Well?” he demanded,
after her silence had begun to annoy him. “Why are you just looking at me like a
simpleton? You’re going to respond, aren’t you?”

“I like my job,” she
said, weakly.

“Don’t you think I know
what’s best for you, sweetheart?” He touched her cheek, his tone softening a
little.

 “I know you like your
job, darling, but you don’t need to work. I can support you.”

“But…”

“Shh,” he pressed two fingers
over her lips. “No buts—not today. We had such a great weekend together. Let’s
not ruin it by arguing, hmm? You know how much I hate arguments.”

“I do, too,” she mumbled,
finding it difficult to speak with the pressure of his fingers on her lips.

“Well then…in that case,
we’d better get those clothes off of you,” he said with a devilish smile.

His hands suddenly began
roaming all over her body, tugging at the garments she'd managed to put on
before he interrupted her. He manhandled her down flat onto the bed and crawled
on top of her. She felt his erection pressing insistently at her thigh. She
groaned inwardly. He was nearly always horny and ready for sex.

“Logan…” She said his
name quietly, her hands on his hips, pushing him away from her, ever so
slightly.

“What? What is it, baby?”
he whispered, as he was nibbling at her neck.

“You want me to fuck
you?” he asked breathily, as he continued on her neck.

“What about my boss?” she
asked.

“Ooh no, I don’t want to
fuck your boss,” he snorted at his own joke, and continued attempting to
undress her.

“You know what I mean…,”
she said, smiling despite her upset.

“You can call him later, to
tell him you quit. Right now, I want you. I want to be inside of you.”

“I can’t just…quit…”

He stopped what he was
doing immediately and sat up. His legs were still on either side of her hips,
so his body weight was pressing her into the mattress, preventing her from
wriggling away. His eyes were burning as he stared down at her, fiery and wild.
He looked as if he were barely in control of the rage within him.

Charlotte felt so exposed
and vulnerable beneath him. He could do anything to her right now and she
wouldn’t be able to stop him. He grabbed hold of her hands and pinned them to
the pillow, on either side of her head, pressing his thumbs into her wrists.
She winced in pain and wriggled.

“Do not push me,
Charlotte. I’ve already told you what you're going to do. I don’t want any
arguments,” he bit out, teetering on the edge of his control.

“I’m not arguing with you.
I just–”

“What the
fuck
,
did I just tell you?” he yelled his voice so loud and aggressive, now it rang
through her ears. “Don't say another word.”

Charlotte opened her
mouth to speak then quickly closed it again. She realized she’d gone too far, she
overstepped the mark. She was frightened of him. She looked up at him wide eyed
and nodded. She was too afraid to utter a sound, even a weak ‘okay’.

Inwardly, she chastised
herself for letting the relaxed weekend with Logan lull her into a false sense
of security. She'd let her guard down, just had fun and enjoyed him. Now look
at where that had gotten her. She vowed she'd always remember dealing with him
was like walking on a razors edge. He could go ballistic at any time without
warning.

He was in control. She
must be obedient or suffer the consequences, which were terrifying, and could
be painful.

Charlotte remained silent
and submissive, as he looked down on her triumphantly. He held her two hands
with one of his. He used his free hand to grasp her bra and rip it away,
exposing her breasts. Charlotte gasped as he squeezed first one and then the
other, pinching and kneading them to the point of pain.

She moaned as his hand
trailed down her soft belly to her dressy work pants. He deftly unclasped them
and then roughly pulled them down to her knees. His thigh pried its way between
hers and he began to rub it between her legs, against her folds. Despite his harsh
treatment of her and her own emotional distress, she began to feel herself
becoming aroused.

This was unexpected and it
surprised her. She wasn't sure whether it was his rough treatment of her body, or
his dominance over her that excited her. All she knew was she wanted him inside
of her. She was suddenly on fire.

When he bent forward over
her, his mouth locked on hers, his tongue invaded her mouth and she found
herself lightly grinding against his thigh. When his free hand found its way
down to her panties, she raised her hips off the bed as he dragged them down
her supple thighs. Finally, he released her hands and pulled off her underwear
and pants, then threw them in the corner.