Logan had been plagued with nightmares for as long as he could remember, but tonight his sleep was troubled for a different reason. He couldn’t get his mind off the woman in the other bedroom. Between his own conflicted feelings for her, the Wolverine’s all-too-clear desire, and the sweet, agonizing memory of what happened in the bathroom only a few short hours ago . . . well, he just wasn’t in a state of mind to close his eyes and relax.
He blew out his cheeks, tossed the covers off, and padded into the kitchen. The Gentleman Jack had disappeared—Scott’s doing, he suspected. But the key to the mini-bar sat on the counter, and he was beyond caring what Xavier would think when he saw some overpriced whiskey on the bill. He snagged all three tiny bottles of Jack, along with some bourbon he’d never heard of, and hoped it would be enough to give him a light buzz.
Stupid fucking healing factor.
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It’s time. Marie’s eyes opened, and she took a moment to steady her concentration before uncrossing her legs and standing. Rogue was asleep now, which meant the barriers were at their weakest. Marie padded across her room and tested the doorknob.
It gave way, just a little, under her touch. She took a deep, calming breath and gathered her resolve to try again.
“I could open it for us,” Carol said sweetly.
“Ya mean ya could open it for you,” Marie corrected, glancing over at the crudely built cage in the corner.
The blonde gazing out innocently from between the bars was no less gorgeous for the dark circles under her eyes. Her short-lived escape from Marie’s room must have taken a lot out of her. This was the first time Marie had ever been able to fully confine her most powerful absorbed inhabitant.
“Me an’ Rogue fought hard for this mind. If ya think you’re just gonna sweep in and take it now that she’s . . . different . . . well, you got another thing comin’.”
Carol’s voice was still absurdly sweet, “Those are tough words for a girl who doesn’t have the big, bad Rogue protecting her anymore. Really, now, how long do you suppose you’ll last against me? Let’s do this the easy way. I’ll even give you every other weekend.”
Marie rolled her eyes. “Downright generous of ya, Carol. Lemme think about it—no. Rogue’s never let me down before, and she’s gonna pull through this, you’ll see.”
Because I'm gonna help her.
And with that thought to strengthen her, Marie twisted the doorknob and pulled.
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Logan overturned the fifth bottle, watching its meager contents splash into the glass with a twinge of disappointment. He was still stone-cold sober and as restless as ever.
Rogue stirred in her room. He hoped it wasn’t another nightmare. He swished the amber liquid through his teeth and gulped it down.
Then he heard the flutter of sheets, the soft pressure of her bare feet on the floor. His every sense followed those little footsteps as they pattered down the hall to—his room.
“That’s it,” he growled, downing the rest of the whiskey and slamming his glass on the counter. It was time to draw the line. Rogue’s little game of torturing him was going to end right now. He had a feeling she knew exactly what she was doing to him, and that thought pissed him off so much he could barely see straight.
He left the kitchen and was down the hall in seconds. He caught up to her at his doorway. That she had the nerve to try and sneak into bed with him again, after he literally dragged her out last night—it was too much. The rumble building in his chest came up as an angry snarl.
Rogue jumped at the sound, and he grabbed her by the arm and roughly jerked her around to face him.
Her eyes rounded in fear as she took in his expression. Her mouth opened and closed soundlessly.
He walked her backwards into the room, feeding on the smell of fear that came off her in waves. He felt a sick pleasure when she stumbled over her own feet, and he let her fall, hitting the rug with an “Oomph!”
He crouched over her, every predatory instinct roaring its approval as she scrambled back and pressed herself into the wall.
Snikt. She flinched. He dragged the side of one claw down her cheek. The sound of her heart pounding was music to his ears.
“This what you want? To make me lose control?”
He moved even closer, invading every inch of personal space, until she turned her head to the side, eyes screwed shut. Her breaths became fluttery, fleeting things. He growled, low and deep, and drove his fist through the wall right next her.
“This isn’t some fuckin’ game. You still think it’s cute to tempt me?”
She shook her head, trembling with fear.
“Look at me!” he roared.
She opened her eyes, still shaking all over. But she kept her gaze down. “Pl-please don’t hurt me,” she whispered. She began to cry.
The bottom dropped out of his world.
The anger left him in one big rush, claws winnowing through the muscles of his forearms as they slid in. He had imagined what her first words to him would be, imagined it so many different ways. But never this. Not from the person he had promised to help, not hurt. Never hurt.
In one moment of weakness, he had ruined something that was supposed to be beautiful. What was he thinking? She wasn’t an animal, a feral monster like him. She was a traumatized woman. He began to wonder if he had taken advantage, just like Scott said. If he had misread her all along. He felt an ache in the back of his eyes, a sensation he could never remember feeling before.
His throat began to constrict. Then the first tear came. He opened his mouth in shock. So this was how it felt to cry.
She breathed jerkily, tears sliding down her cheeks. He swiped the tears from his own eyes and smoothed a hand over her hair, sickened with himself when she cringed away from his touch and began to cry harder.
His throat felt tight when he spoke, “I’m so sorry, baby. I would never . . . I just wanted to make you understand . . .”
He drew her to her feet and enveloped her in a hug, nuzzling gently into her hair until she stopped shaking. She didn’t pull away, though he could feel the tension—the fear—in her body. He released her and stepped back. His voice was still scratchy with emotion. “Please believe me. I would never hurt you, Rogue. Never.”
She looked up through a curtain of hair, scared brown eyes finally meeting his. “I’m not Rogue.”