Page 28 of Straight to You

LOGAN

I ’ve never felt rage like this before.

For the first time in my life, I understand the urge to punch a hole through drywall, throw a glass at the wall, or to strangle the life out of someone.

I am fucking fuming .

This is the most manipulative, disgusting, twisted thing you can do to another human. It’s a deliberate invasion of our privacy to take something so intimate and personal and use it against us. It takes a truly depraved person to do something like this.

The mixture of rage and nausea isn’t going away.

My hands are shaking, my vision is hazy at the edges, and I can’t get the images out of my mind.

Kyle turned something beautiful between Ryder and me into something tainted with his sick obsession.

He twisted what was ours into a way to try to take back the upper hand and exert control over us.

And what it’s doing to Ryder is fucking gutting me.

Nothing he’s done to this point compares.

Ryder’s gone completely still beside me, except for his silent tears and shaky hands. He looks utterly and completely defeated because Kyle tried to strip him down to nothing, and make him feel exposed in a way I can’t fix.

And that’s what makes me so angry. I will never, ever be able to erase the fact that his first blowjob was watched and recorded without his knowledge or consent.

The words from the email play on a loop in my head, each repetition fanning the flames of my anger.

I know you’re confused right now. He’s been filling your head with lies and pulling you away from who you really are.

But this? This isn’t you, Ryder. I’m disappointed in you.

But let me be clear, if I see him with you again, I won’t be so understanding.

And trust me, neither of you wants to find out what happens then.

I’d hate for either of you to get hurt because you didn’t listen. This is your last warning.

Ryder saw the email come through first. Kyle took it to an entirely new level that was not okay. None of this is okay, but this is fucked up even for him. I could tell as soon as I watched Ryder’s face pale that something was wrong.

When I asked what happened, he didn’t answer. Just turned the laptop in my direction, and I could see a video clip pulled up. I knew before he even pressed play what it was. He did too.

I read the message, and my stomach dropped; the words not fully registering until he clicked play. Then a cold, violent fury spread through my chest as I watched the screen.

It was us. Last night. Ryder was on his knees between my legs, looking up at me with my cock in his mouth.

That sick fuck must have watched the whole thing because I only lasted a couple minutes at most. The way he violated us for his sick agenda makes me nauseous.

He has turned one of the most intense, raw, and incredible moments of my life into something tainted.

I hadn’t even considered being watched last night.

Not once. Because why the fuck would I? We were in my apartment, in our goddamn space, living in artificial light because the curtains are always closed, but there was a crack in the curtain.

He was so invested that he filmed through that sliver of an opening. It’s deranged.

A stuttered breath draws my attention back to Ryder, and he looks like he’s on the verge of tears. I can be furious later because right now, I need to be there for him. I reach for his hands, lacing our fingers together. I can feel his pulse hammering, and I need to pull him back to me.

“Ryder,” I say, my voice steady. “Hey. Look at me.”

He does, and fuck—the devastation in his eyes guts me.

“This doesn’t change anything,” I soothe, squeezing his wrists. “He doesn’t get to take this from us. He doesn’t get to make you feel ashamed for something that was ours.”

Ryder sucks in a shaky breath, his expression cracked wide open. “But he saw it, Logan,” he whispers. “He watched us, and now he’s holding it over our heads. What the fuck is he even going to do with this video? What about his threat?”

I don’t know. I honestly don’t, and that kills me.

My gaze flicks back to the screen, and there it is. The fucking edge of the curtain in the corner of the frame. They’ve been closed for days. I didn’t even think to double-check before we did anything in the living room. I only wanted to make him feel good.

“Fuck!” I roar, raking my hands through my hair. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Ryder. This is all my fault. The curtain—I should’ve checked. ”

“No,” Ryder says sharply.

He stands, stepping in front of me, and grabs my face with trembling hands, forcing my gaze to his.

“Don’t do this,” he says. “Don’t put this on yourself. This isn’t your fault.”

But it is. I should have been more careful. I should have checked. I should have known?—

“He did this, Logan,” Ryder says, cutting through my thoughts.

“This is what he does. He wants us to feel like this. Exposed. Humiliated. He wants us to be scared, and he wants us to be obedient, to stop being together. And now he’s got the blackmail he’s been waiting for.

But I don’t want that, Lo. I don’t. I don’t care what he says, I want to be with you, so I’m going to be. ”

I nod in agreement. “All I want to do right now is find him and make him regret ever fucking breathing near you,” I snarl, attempting to point my anger at Kyle instead of myself.

“Get in fucking line,” Ryder bites out, but it’s not at me—it’s at the sick bastard who did this. “I want to find him and end this myself. Fuck him for thinking he can do this.”

I grab him and pull him into me, holding him so tight against my chest I can feel every furious breath he takes. “I know, baby,” I whisper into his hair. “I know.”

For a moment, he lets himself cry, grabbing my hoodie and burying his face into my shoulder. All I want is to take his pain and hurt away. I’d carry every goddamn ounce of it if it meant he didn’t have to.

He pulls back and looks at me, his cheeks blotchy from tears and anger. “I’m not ashamed,” he says, sounding so sure of himself. “Not of what I did. Not of you. Not of anything in that video. Fuck him for trying to make me feel like I should be. ”

My throat tightens at that, and I swallow down the emotion clawing its way out. Cupping the back of his neck, I press a kiss to his forehead. “Me neither, baby. Now, grab your shoes. I’m not wasting another second without cameras surrounding every inch of this place.”

Ryder stares at me for a second, then nods. “Guess it’s time, huh?”

“Yes.” My voice is firm. “If he’s still out there watching us, I want to catch him. I want fucking concrete proof so we can end this and send his ass to jail.”

“Alright,” he agrees. “Let’s go. Fuck this guy.”

Hundreds of dollars later, we have everything we think we’ll need—or at least everything we can reasonably set up in my apartment. A doorbell camera for the front door, one to cover the balcony area, and a couple of indoor cameras to monitor the living room and the hallway leading to the bedrooms.

We also grabbed four additional cameras for Ryder’s house. Two motion-activated cameras with floodlights for the front and backyard, plus two indoor cameras to cover the entryway and the back door. I want every angle covered. If Kyle even thinks about lurking or breaking in again, we’ll catch him.

I felt a little better as we loaded up the cart, until we reached the checkout counter and the guy opened his mouth.

He made some stupid jokes about us trying to set the world record for most paranoid couple, laughing like this was an over-the-top precaution instead of a desperate attempt to feel safe again .

I hate when strangers try to crack jokes, especially when they don’t realize they’re hitting a nerve.

I’m sure he wasn’t trying to be an asshole, but the comments still made me irrationally angry all over again—and then I felt like I was the asshole.

I must’ve shot him a look that screamed shut up, because after that, he cleared his throat, continued scanning, and told us to have a nice day.

All I’ve been today is angry, even now, as we’re unboxing the cameras, I’m furious at the situation. At Kyle. But mostly, at myself for not making sure the blinds were fully drawn.

Last night, I couldn’t think. It’s like naked Ryder makes it impossible to focus on anything but him. But knowing what I know now, I’d give anything to go back and rewind and make sure the night stayed ours.

I can’t even absorb the instructions I’m staring at, as I feel the weight of Ryder’s gaze on me. I don’t look up until I feel his hand on my chin, tilting my face to meet his.

“Logan, you’re blaming yourself, and I need you to stop.” His eyes search mine, and I swear he sees everything I’m feeling. “You think this is your fault, but it’s not. I promise you, it’s not.”

I swallow hard, my chest tightening, and I shake my head. “Ryder, I?—”

“No, babe. No.” His thumb brushes against my lips. “You’re carrying this weight, and you don’t have to. It’s not yours to carry. You did nothing wrong.”

“But—” I start, my voice breaking, but Ryder cuts me off again.

“You didn’t do this,” he says, more firmly now. “And yeah, maybe we should’ve checked the blinds, but we didn’t because we were in the moment, Lo. We wanted each other that badly, and I refuse to feel guilty about that. I won’t apologize for that. No part of me blames you, please believe that.”

I stare at him, wanting to believe him, and before I can say anything else, his lips are on mine. The kiss is soft, but it’s like he’s trying to help me understand how serious he is.

When we break apart, his beautiful brown eyes land on mine. “We’re going to get through this,” he promises. “But not if you keep tearing yourself apart over something you couldn’t control.”

I nod, the lump in my throat is making it impossible to speak.