My breath comes out in one long rush of relief.
He totally gets me.
"Yes," I say as I walk up to his desk, put my palms on it, and lean in closer. "Magnus is back home in New York, taking care of some business. He demanded she come in here and put on a show, meaning he wants her to bestow a hot cock suck on someone. Can't be me. Woolf, Cain, and Rand are out of the question now that they've gotten tied down. You're the only other one I trust."
"Trust to do what?" Bridger asks. "You know not a member in here would hurt her."
"It's not that," I grumble, my fingers going back to scrape along the back of my neck, which is knotted with tension.
"Not to enjoy it?" he asks quietly. "Because I'm sorry, Logan. She sucks my cock, I'm going to enjoy it."
"No," I growl, frustrated it has to be this way and beyond pissed he's making me say this. "I know you'll enjoy it and that's fine. But I trust you to feel bad about what it's doing to me."
Bridger is a tough son of a bitch 98.3% of the time. But that other 1.7%, he can surprise you with uncharacteristic displays of caring and compassion. Like right now... his eyes get a little bit soft as he takes in my most embarrassing confession and merely nods at me.
"Take Auralie over to The Silo," he says as he nods toward the door. "I'll be over in about ten minutes."
I sigh out a breath of relief. Again, this is not an optimal solution, but it's the only one I have. I turn toward the door.
"And Logan," Bridger says in a low voice.
I turn back around to look at him, my face trying to appear grateful for what he's doing but still feeling sick inside.
"You know this is only putting off the inevitable for one more day, right?" he asks.
I nod. "Yeah. I get that."
"Then you get your shit sorted tonight," he tells me sagely. "You either get her to let you help her or you get the fuck gone. Go find some pussy and fuck it hard, but you walk away after tonight. Magnus is a bad dude. You're going to put her at risk if you keep up with this jealous bullshit when you may not have any right to be so."
I curse under my breath. "Understood."
"And buddy," Bridger says in a far gentler voice. "I know you're here for a reason. I know something drove you to Wyoming and The Silo and that you get something from all this. I suspect it lets you exist as best you know how. But you can't find happiness in this place. Not for the long haul anyway."
My stomach tightens and I stare at him through hard eyes, refusing to give any credence to his very spot-on assessment of me. I've not shared that piece of me with anyone, and it sure as fuck won't be him.
"You can't outrun your demons," Bridger says meaningfully, completely at ease in giving me advice I don't want or need. "You can't outrun them because they're inside of you, not behind you. Until you confront that shit, you'll never lose them."
This takes me aback, not because he's being nosy as fuck into my life by his uncanny insight, but because his voice holds something more than just a friend giving out a piece of unsolicited advice. It sounds as if he might know a little something about running from demons.
I've always found Bridger to be coolly aloof and guarded with most everyone except his buddy, Woolf, who used to own The Silo with him. Figured something made him that way. It's not until this moment when I realize by the tone of his voice, that whatever it is that has made him a very strange man, it's something that's caused him great pain.
Maybe even a pain as great as mine?
I shake my head to clear it, but I still can't help but ask. "That work for you? Have you made peace with your demons?"
It's an impertinent question to the man who essentially keeps me employed as a Fantasy Maker, and I half expect him to kick me the fuck out of his office.
But instead, he gives me a wry smile and shakes his head. "Nah, man. I keep those fuckers around intentionally as reminders of what I'll never go through again."
I don't even know what to say to that, but on some level, I recognize the reasoning. It's why I keep myself reserved from relationships and friendships. Because if you don't have anything of value to lose, it can't hurt you down the road.
"Thanks for the help," I tell him quietly as I turn toward the door. "I'll see you over at The Silo."
Bridger's silent as I walk out, and I find Auralie waiting there for me, looking far more beautiful and normal in a simple black dress that is cut to reveal a tiny amount of cleavage and black, strappy heels. She still has a clean, fresh face, but at least she doesn't look twelve, which will probably disappoint those that come to gawk at her tonight.
Sucking Bridger's dick.
Goddamn, I hate this, but it's the only play I have.
Auralie's chewing on her lower lip when I open the door. It pops free, glistening wet. I want to chew on it some more, but instead, I walk up to her and take her hand in mine.
"I've set it up for Bridger to help us," I tell her with my mouth near her ear because the country music filtering down the hall from The Wicked Horse is cutting into our privacy.
She pulls back and looks at me. "You want me to--with Bridger?"
"Yes," I tell her, and then fudge a little on my motivation. "He won't hurt you, and I don't trust any of those other douches."
She seems to accept that. and I'm glad because I sure as fuck am not about to admit to her the way I did to Bridger that it's going to kill me to see her lips wrapped around a dick that is not mine.
"Let's go," I tell her as I pull on her hand and we hit the exit door. This puts us out right at a stone path that leads to The Silo sitting just a stone's throw. "Bridger's going to come over in about ten minutes. I want you to go in, wander around, and mingle. It's not going to be overly crowded since it's so early, but flirt and hit on some men or something."
Christ, it pains me to tell her to do that.
It's going to hurt like a motherfucker when I watch her actually do that.
"Logan," Auralie says with a tug on my hand. I stop and turn to look at her. "You should go."
"I'm staying," I grit out.
"You need to forget me," she says in a small voice, but her face says it all. I couldn't ever, ever forget you. I wish we could just run, run, run and never look back.
"Couldn't forget you," I mutter back to her in affirmation of all the things she just said with her eyes.
"But tomorrow," she continues on, stepping into me and placing her hands on my shoulders. "I'm going to have to be right back here again. Probably with Magnus. It's going to happen one way or the--"
My mouth descends on hers because I don't want her to finish that thought. I don't want to hear about inevitability. I want to focus on right this moment. Tonight, after she gets Bridger off with her mouth--can't stand that fucking thought either--I want to take her back to the cabin and do as many wicked things to her as I can without compromising her virginity. I want to do this for hours, let it turn into days, and let the future that would lead her to kneel at another man's feet never arrive.
Auralie leans into my kiss, her hands going to clasp at each other behind my neck. She moans against my tongue, and the smell of her sweet perfume makes me dizzy.
Reluctantly, I pull away and give her a little push toward The Silo. "Go on in. I'll be in soon."
She nods at me and walks away, and yeah... I stare at her swaying ass that I'd love to tap one day if I had the time to build her up to that. I wait until she disappears inside, waiting about five more minutes before I walk in. Bridger should be soon on my heels and then we'll get this travesty of a show over with for the night.
When I clear the hall into the main area of The Silo, I see Auralie standing at the bar talking to one of the members. Nondescript dude, doesn't come in often. Don't know much about him, but it doesn't matter. He won't be touching her tonight.
I walk over to one of the black leather couches that sits perpendicular to the glass rooms. From there, I can watch the action in one of said rooms if I want, although they're empty at this early h
our, or I can swivel my head and watch Auralie.
With Bridger.
Fuck, my stomach hurts.
As if on cue, Bridger appears from the entrance hall, his eyes scanning the entirety of the room, although he passes right over me. There are only a handful of people in here. Two bartenders, Auralie and the man she's talking to, as well as perhaps another five people sitting at the bar. Add Bridger and me and that's only eleven total, which will at least help to cut down on Auralie's humiliation, no matter if her sucking Bridger's dick makes me feel slightly better, she wants no part of anyone's dick but mine.
"Everyone, let me have your attention," Bridger says with an authoritative boom.
I sit straight up from my pouting slouch, completely stunned he's going to really make a spectacle of what he and Auralie are about to do.
Auralie's face is even more pale than normal, her lips almost white. Her eyes cut to me with worry, but we both look back to Bridger when he says, "I've just gotten a call from the fire department. We had our yearly inspection, and they found some burned electrical. Unfortunately, until that can get fixed, they've ordered us to close down immediately. I'm really sorry, but I'm going to have to ask everyone to leave. Hopefully, we'll be opened back up by tomorrow."
My jaw hangs wide open as I watch Bridger shuffle the patrons out while the bartenders start packing away their wares. I look at Auralie, who is saying goodbye to the man she was talking to, and then back to Bridger as he starts to walk toward me.
I stand from the couch, unprepared for how jello-like my legs feel from the shock of reprieve I was just given.
Not Auralie.
No, Bridger gave that reprieve to me so that I wouldn't have to suffer watching my girl take his cock.
My girl?
Well, yeah... I think so.
Fuck. I have no clue what to do now.
"It's just for tonight," Bridger says in a low voice as his eyes cut briefly to Auralie, who is walking our way. It drops an octave lower when he says, "I mean it... figure your shit out tonight or get the fuck gone and don't look back at her. You hear me?"
"Loud and clear," I tell him as I turn and hold my hand out to Auralie.
I have some work to do tonight.
Chapter 14
Auralie
"Magnus can't be mad," Logan says as soon as he has me in his truck and we're pulling out of the parking lot. "Text him and tell him The Silo is closed down."
"Okay," I say, pulling my phone out of the little clutch I brought.
I shoot off a quick text. The Silo is closed down tonight. Burned wires. Fire department shut it down.
"I can't believe he did that," I say in wonder to Logan. "He must be a really good friend."
"Yeah," Logan mutters in agreement, but he doesn't say anything more. While I know he's relieved that we've been given a day's reprieve, I also know he's already worrying about tomorrow. If I were strong and really wanted to spare both of us more pain, I'd be a brave girl and turn him away when he drops me off at my cabin. I should cut the string quickly and decisively, and yes... even cruelly if I have to, and let him be free from my bullshit.
Because this man does not deserve my shitty life, nor does he deserve to be burdened with my lies and bad deeds that have probably earned me a one-way ticket to Hell.
My phone chimes, and I look down at Magnus' return text. You better not be lying to me to get out of this.
My fingers fly over the screen as I respond. Call Bridger if you don't believe me. He's the one that just came in an announced it.
His response is just as fast. You're at The Silo now? It's not even 7PM. Far too early for you to have gone and put on a good show to the biggest crowd.
"Oh, for fuck's sake," I growl at my phone and pull up my screen, punching Magnus' number. Logan's head turns to look at me and I shoot him an irritated eye roll, which he knows is not meant for him but for another.
Magnus answers right away. "You were supposed to go late tonight. I told you I wanted a show. There couldn't have been anyone there this early."
"Jesus, Magnus," I say in irritation. "What does it matter? It wasn't going to happen anyway since it just got closed down. One way to look at it is if I'd have gotten there a bit earlier, I could have probably sucked a cock and made some inroads for you."
He makes a disgusted sound on the line. "Do you have to be so crass?"
"You got to be fucking kidding me?" I ask with astonishment, my voice rising higher and higher. "Crass? Crass? You're pimping my body out for money... and you call me crass?"
"It's a job, Auralie," he says smoothly. "Nothing more than that."
My eyes cut over to Logan, who is thankfully only privy to my end of the conversation. I can't bear for him to know I'm doing this for something as base as money. "I'm hanging up now, Magnus," I say tiredly. "Any idea when you're coming back?"
"Day after tomorrow," he snipes at me. "And be ready to get back to work. I want to up our efforts."
"Fine," I snap. "I'll be ready to suck dick when you command."
"Auralie," he chastises me, but I hit the disconnect button and throw my phone on the seat beside me.
"I don't understand why you align yourself with such a douche," Logan accuses.
I turn to look at him, but not before I realize I have no clue where we are as I take in unfamiliar scenery as the sun hangs low over the horizon.
"Where are we going?" I ask curiously.
"To my place," he says. "We'll cook some hot dogs like I promised, because I figured you'd be more into that than a pizza and a movie. Then we're going to discuss the real reason you align yourself with a douche like that."
I give a tired sigh. "Logan... I'm not going to--"
"Just fucking stop, Auralie," Logan barks at me. "I'm tired of you hiding stuff from me."
I stare at him, my jaw hanging wide open. "That's sort of the pot calling the kettle black."
That effectively shuts him up because he knows I'm right, and I find it more than telling that he didn't offer to trade quid pro quo. I tell him something, and then he tells me something.
It's not going to work that way for Logan McKay apparently, because he stays stonily silent the rest of the drive.
So by the time we pull into his campsite--which admittedly is adorable--I'm beyond pissed and ready for a fight.
***
Logan gets out of his truck the minute it turns off, stomping up to his trailer. I have half a mind to get out and walk out of this little campground to hitch a ride back to Jackson, but I'm just as angry as he is and I want to have it out. I need to purge and get it out.
I get out of his truck, slamming the door behind me, and take in the little blue and white camper he just disappeared into. It can't be more than fifteen feet long. Clearly, it's old as it's sporting rust spots where the sides are riveted together and the paint is flaking. The rest of his campsite is neat and tidy with a picnic table, a fire pit that's currently dead and cold, as well as a canvas-folding chair sitting in front of the pit. I imagine Logan out here, drinking a beer and pondering the flames in his solitary life.
Walking up to the trailer, I hear slamming around inside. I hesitantly enter, only to find him angrily getting dinner ready. My brief scan of the interior shows it's sparsely decorated and minimalist in all other ways. To my right is a tiny bathroom and I can see inside as the door is half-open. It's so small that it's nothing more than a shower stall with a toilet. To my immediate left is a small counter with a two-burner stove. Opposite that, a refrigerator about half the size of a normal one. Past that, at the rear of the camper, is a bed that runs perpendicular. Twisted sheets and blankets tell me that Logan can be a restless sleeper.
He opens the refrigerator, pulls out a pack of hot dogs, and slams it shut. Throwing the hot dogs on a counter unceremoniously, he reaches into a cabinet above the sink and pulls out a pack of hot dog buns. He slams the cabinet shut just as hard and I wince.
"Beating up your trailer isn't going to make you
feel any better," I say simply.
He shoots me a glare that clearly says, You're not helping matters, Auralie.
Good. Because I don't want to help. I want to rail against the unfairness of it all. "You know, Logan," I say sarcastically. "You're not the only one who hates this situation."
"Oh, really?" he asks snidely as he turns on me. In a condescending voice, he says, "Because it looks to me like you just want to sit back and let Magnus shit all over you. You apparently don't hate it that much or you'd be working with me to try to figure a way out of whatever fucked-up mess you got yourself into."
"It's not that simple," I yell at him in frustration.
He leans into me, gets right in my face, and yells back. "It is too that fucking simple. You tell me the problem, and I help you make it go away. Then you don't have to suck any dick but mine."
He pulls away and gives me a sly smile. "That is... unless you like it."
I gasp and rear backward, knowing he truly didn't mean that but still letting myself be hurt by his words even as I see immediate contrition in his eyes. "You insufferable, pigheaded lout. I have no clue what I ever saw in you."
"Well, that says a lot," he says caustically. "Coming from someone who has their head stuck up their ass."
"You asshole," I seethe.
"Bitch," he counters.
"Ooooohhhhh," I scream out in frustration, turning toward the spring-hinged door that slammed shut behind me not two minutes ago. "I'm leaving."
"Like fuck you are," he snarls and leaps at me. With one hand on my upper arm, he spins me and then jerks me to him so my body goes slamming into the hard, muscled planes of his. My hands immediately go to his chest to push away, but he slaps one big hand on my butt and the other to my upper back, pulling me in tight until I'm pressed up against his entire frame.
It is not lost on me he has an erection the size of a rocket ship pressing into me, and I have no doubt in my mind he'd find me as wet as an oasis. Still, that's beside the point, and I try to wriggle out of his hold.
"Let me go," I grit out and consider kicking him in the nuts, but no... no way I could harm those precious jewels.
He responds with a brutal kiss, forcing my mouth open and shoving his tongue in deep. Mine immediately meets his and twists against him. I turn my head, open my mouth wider, and suck his kiss down like I'll starve to death without it.