The lorry pulled into the motel car park. Rogue looked out of the window at the sign.

“This is the next town, sweetheart. Sorry, can’t take you any further. I need to refuel and head in another direction.” She nodded at him, got out of the lorry, and smiled.

“It’s fine. Thanks.” She swung the door closed, and he pulled off.

She looked at the motel sign and shook her head. How clichéd. The Westbridge House Motel had a few sign issues: it flashed, and some of the letters were missing. So now, when it flashed, it read “b i g H el”. Big Hell. About right.

She walked to the office and booked a room. The desk guy had leered at her, but she paid him her money and ignored his dirty smirk as she walked to her room.

Logan used to give her dirty smirks. When he got back from missions, or fresh from the gym or danger room. He would smirk at her like that and then jump her until she was screaming his name.

It had been nine hours since she had seen him. His big shoulders, large heavy thighs, perfect orbs of hazel that reflected pain and sadness. He looked just the same. She shouldn’t have expected anything else. He always looked the same: sexy and dangerous, but he was a good man. Technically, you could have called him a murderer, but he was still a good man.

Why did he affect her like this? He had the first time she saw him. Made her feel like she wanted to take all the hurt away, wash his skin clean, make him feel what he was worth.

But he had done this. He had hurt her. He was the one that should look sad and feel sorry for himself, not her. Good, he was tired! Good, he was upset! Good, good, and fucking good!

Seeing him again made her feel weak, washed out, and helpless. She went into her room and closed the door. Leaning against it she sunk to the floor. Crying with her face pressed against the cheap wood, she realised she couldn’t stay here for too long. He would catch up. He would be coming for her soon. She sobbed until her head hurt, and her eyes were sore pools of sorrow…

Lying in bed, she felt the mattress shift. Turning, she once again saw the large frame of the man she loved. He touched her face gently. “I’m sorry.” She nodded and sat up to hug him fiercely. He breathed in her scent, and she heard him whimper against her. Taking her face gently, he kissed her and laced his hands into her short hair. Then he took off his jacket without breaking the kiss and his shirt.

She became frantic, tearing at his jeans as he laid her gently back on the bed. It was going to be fast; they both needed it to be. “I’m sorry.” He said it again, and it was enough. She loved him. What else could she do?

Pulling her panties to one side, he slammed into her with his enlarged flesh. She was already so very wet and accommodated his urgency. They had fucked like this before, and once he had begged her to do it with her mutation switched on. He said he liked the danger.

Cupping her face with his hands and kissing her roughly, she began to moan. He pulled her head back by her hair so he could harshly bite her neck. All the last six months of pain and raw emotion was coming out in the way they joined.

Half on the bed and half standing, he pushed her legs wider and thrust more forcefully, if it was possible, and she was crying out with pleasure-pain, as the tip of his flesh hit her at her base. “AAHH, LOGAN!” He sped up as she came and snarled into her throat as he emptied himself within her small, tired body.

Then he spoke to her again. “I’m sorry. I don’t love you anymore…”

She woke with a jump. She hadn’t even realised she had fallen asleep. She was still on the floor, pressed up to the door. Her head hurt like merry hell and the last part of her dream made her feel sick.

Sunlight was coming through the window. She looked at the clock: 6am. It had been nearly 17 hours since he had found her in the market. He would have been here by now.

He wasn’t coming. He was never coming.

It was a mistake; she shouldn’t have run in the first place. She should have let him have his tramp and then she should have moved on, at least she would have seen him.

She slowly got up. Her muscles ached from the position she had been in all night. She went to the bed and put her bag on it. She took out her soap, shampoo, clean panties and a towel and laid them on the bed. She stripped her clothes off and took off the back holster with her handgun in it.

Walking into the bathroom, she put the gun and clean panties on the toilet seat lid. It wasn’t for him, just for security.

****

Scott woke up in the driver’s seat and stretched as much as his position would let him. Logan hadn’t wanted to go into the motel room last night. He’d wanted to stay in the car and sulk. So Scott had stayed too, for fear of what he would do to himself, or the car, or the motel room. They had been there all night. Parked in silence.

“You awake?” Looking over at Logan, he could see it was a stupid question.

“No, Scott, I often sleep with my eyes open; it’s a military thing!” He rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“Your mood hasn’t improved then.” Scott reached into the back seat and pulled out a map. “What do you want to do?” Logan was just sitting there, staring straight ahead at the motel room.

“Something.” He pushed the door open and strolled to the motel room door.

“Shit!” Scot jumped out and followed him to the door.

Logan didn’t knock; he just walked right in, breaking the lock quietly as he went. They could hear the shower, and Scott saw the empty gun holster on the bed.

He whispered at Logan. “She’s armed. My guess is that she will shoot you!”

“Well, Holy Toledo, Batman! I never thought of that!” He whispered back. Scott was slightly taken aback; he had never known Logan quite so tightly wound before. They settled to wait for her.

She let the water wash over her, she felt like shit. Felt like screaming. She’d stopped crying ages ago; there was nothing left. That’s how she felt: nothing.

He had let her go. He hadn’t come for her. From the moment she ran from her Jeep six months ago, she had known that he would come for her. But she never realised that she had wanted him to. She was still angry, very angry, and she could quite easily still kill him. But she wouldn’t because…he hadn’t come for her.

Stepping out of the shower, she dried off and put on her clean underwear. She left her hair loose; she couldn’t be bothered to wrap it in another towel. Out of habit, she put her gun in the back of her lace panties and wrapped her towel around her. It wasn’t very big, but it covered her butt. She opened the bathroom door and stepped into the room.

She was immediately pushed back against the wall, with one large hand in her hair, slightly tipping her head back, and one on her collarbone.

“LOGAN, NO!” She heard Scott’s voice from behind him.

Logan had anger and pain in his eyes. He was close to losing it, she could tell. He had looked like that on missions just before he started killing people. His breathing was ragged, and she could feel his pulse through his fingers. He had never directed it at her before. She was scared. For the first time ever.

“Why did ya run?” He shook her slightly, causing her scalp to sting. “TELL ME!”

“Logan, let her go.” Scott was standing in the centre of the room looking scared; he had one hand raised to the side of his head on his visor. It spoke wonders for how much he didn’t trust Logan to contain himself.

She stared at Logan’s eyes. She could feel his pain, his anguish. Then she felt angry herself. Why did he have the right to feel pain? He cheated on her!

Her right hand slowly came out from the back of her towel; he never noticed the gun until she had it secured under his chin, pressing into him.

His eyes darted downwards and then back to hers. “Darlin’, that won’t …..”

“Kill you? I know. I’ve seen you get shot in the head before, remember? But it’ll hurt like a fucking bitch, and right now that’ll do!” His grip on her didn’t loosen. “Wanna know what else it’ll do? While you’re lying bleedin’ on the carpet, I’ll be outta that door and five thousand miles away before you can crack an eyelid. SO BACK THE FUCK UP!”

As he slowly took his hands away and stepped backwards till he was level with Scott, she lowered the gun to her side.

“I think we all need to calm down.”

“SHUT UP, SCOTT!” they both shouted in unison.

“You gonna answer my question?” He raised his hands to his hips and looked very dangerous and very sexy. But she tried to ignore the sexy part.

“I ran because I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to see you.” The tears started to fall again, but she wouldn’t sob, she just wouldn’t. “I don’t want to hear you, smell you or feel you. I want to be left alone, to live my life away from the hurt and pain and shit that comes with living with you!” Shouting at him had stopped her crying, and she could feel the adrenaline start to course through her system.

“Six months, Marie. Six fucking months. Not knowing if you’d been killed, had an accident, or God-fucking-knows-what! Do you know what that’s like?”

She took a step towards him and waved the gun to emphasise her point, and Scott flinched. “Why should I give a fuck what you feel? You did this. You caused this, you not me. I loved you.”

He noticed that she said loved and not love. He was losing his cool, what he had left of it.

“Me, you think I caused this? Well, how about you running off and not bothering to even talk to me?”

GOD, she felt so angry. How dare he? She wanted to make him feel the hurt that he had caused her.

Scott took another step back from the arguing couple. He didn’t know whom to watch more closely. Logan could smack her, but she could shoot Logan.

“Talk to you, talk to you? Do you have any idea what’s its like trying to talk to you? You don’t talk, Logan. You growl or grunt or hit someone. Animals don’t talk, Logan, they just fuck! And that’s all you want, isn’t it? And it doesn’t matter who it is. Let me guess: redhead, right? ‘Cause you’ve never been able to keep your dick in your pants for one of them, have you? Maybe I should take a leaf out of your book and fuck Scott! ”

Without any kind of warning, he smacked her hard across the face. “LOGAN!” Scott shouted but didn’t do anything. She yelped and fell against the wall. Pushing off of the wall, she stood up and pointed the gun at him again, cocking it as she went.

“Gimme an excuse, please!” She flicked her tongue across her top lip and could taste the blood. “For someone who wanted me to talk to you, you kinda just proved my point, didn’t ya, sugar?”

Logan put his hands up, and his face paled, the sudden realisation of what he had done, hitting him full force in the chest. “Baby, Marie, I’m sorry, I …. I didn’t mean to, I…”

“You what? Couldn’t get me to do what you wanted, so you try and force it, or lash out? Another thing you’re so very good at. GET OUT!” She didn’t lower the gun, just kept it trained on his head. “GET! OUT!”

“You don’t even wanna know what happened? You don’t want me to explain?”

Jesus, even Scott knew the answer to that one. He put his hand on Logan’s arm and tried to pull him, but Logan shook him off with a rough growl. “No. I don’t want anything from you, ever again.”

He looked at this woman he loved pointing a gun at him and asking him to leave, and his heart broke into a thousand pieces. She really did hate him, and he knew he deserved it. Every ounce of his metal skeleton was suddenly so heavy, and he simply didn’t care anymore. There was nothing left to care about.

He grabbed her hand with the gun in it, pushing it away from him and holding onto her throat with the other hand, he quickly pulled her to him, snarling into her face. “That’s what you want darlin’, you got it.” He pushed her against the wall with a loud thud and stalked out of the room.

*****************************END OF PART THREE
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