The Bloody Binds Horror Romance Fiction

Chapter 1

His side of the bed was empty again. I figured as much when I felt the mattress dip with his every movement. I didn't even have to guess when his footsteps thudded across the wooden floorboards, or when he closed the door a little too loudly as he left, or the fact that I easily could've just stuck my foot over to feel for myself. He had been doing this so often that a simple drop of the bed moving under me was plenty to tell what he was up to.

He had only started doing it about a couple months ago when the winter weather finally cleared up. I suppose it made sense - I couldn't picture him wanting to pace about the house when it was minus something degrees outside. He didn't mind the cold but he wasn't immune to it. It was cold enough to smell the weather for God's sake, let alone to feel your bare feet freeze from the ice covered flooring. And God forbid that I would be getting up to chase him back to bed in such weather too.

So by the time February decided to warm up, he would slink out of bed as if I wasn't noticing and walk along the porch outside. If not there, then the kitchen. Only if it was raining though. He was very much a man who enjoyed his own company if he sought it, so I'd wait for thirty minutes, maybe an hour if I heard him grunt when he left the room. Then, I'd go into Lonely-Wife Mode to try and tide him back upstairs again. It's the only thing that seemed to work without seeming too much like a pretentious, needy woman. I'm not like that. I'm just as much as a content solitary eagle as he is. I didn't get married because I wanted to have the "thrills." I loved him, he loved me. He told me I made him happy, I told him he made me happy. We are happy, no matter what goes on in this house. That also meant I loved how independent he was. He had strength I admired, not just the guns. More on that later.

I tried to wake up slowly when I heard him leave. It was still dark out. I squinted at the alarm - 2.00am. Ah good, it wasn't going to be a 1.00am-er... Those always took longer for some reason. I let time pass before I sit up, my feet padding on the floor until I found my crocs and hoisted myself off the bed. I walked down the stairs and past all the photos along the walls from over the years. I yawned passing through the sliding doors and out into the porch, only to see he wasn't there. I lazily turned around and went to the kitchen. Not there either. Did he leave the house?

My ears caught the faint sound of wood chopping. It took me a few moments to register it properly before I groaned as I followed it to the back door. Nearly tripping over the gap between the door and the grass, there he was. My Logan... shirtless, sweating and throwing an axe down on piles of wood over a chopping block. His muscles pulsed with every movement. He wasn't a bodybuilder. He just happened to know how to take care of himself and that was the result. But I was still trying to process why the hell he was chopping wood at 2.00am.

I knew he heard me nearly falling through the door amidst my exhausted demeanour. He still kept chopping though. Another staple of this little schtick we had going on. He must think I like watching him brood. I leaned against the wall and just watched him. I always considered myself to have a keen sense of wit at the most appropriate times but I had no clue how to go about this.

Nevertheless, Lonely-Wife Mode inevitably activated and I found myself walking over gently to him before wrapping my arms around his rough waist. He stopped and let me hold him for a bit, my cheek sticking to his hard back that dripped in sweat when I pressed myself against him softly. I couldn't care for all the tension I knew he had in that jacked body of his. I was just happy to let him know I was there for him, because I was. And he knew it too when he shifted around slightly so he could hold me in his arm, his calloused hand reaching for the small of my back while he gripped the axe in the other.

He could deny it all he wanted but I knew he needed this. Just something sweet to breathe in amongst all he could possibly have swirling in his head. Lonely-Wife Mode rebooted into Rose again as I looked up at him, smiling softly. I was resisting the urge to laugh at how sweaty his hair and face was. His whole body looked like he fell in the ocean. Instead, I rubbed a small section of his torso in a small circle. He knew what I was trying to say. He acknowledged it with a twirl of his fingers at the ends of my hair. I then finally asked the routine question.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

_{To be continued...}

Chapter 2

Logan held onto me in silence before pulling away. He dropped the axe to the ground and leaned against the chopping block with his hands in his pockets. He faced away from me, instead looking out into the woods beside us.

"The usual." He said in his low, gruff voice. His sweat soaked body glistened in the moonlight. I spared him a few seconds before my wit tried to lighten the mood.

"But which is it?" That came off a little more on the stand-offish side than I would have liked but a small smile cracked along his lips all the same. Thank God after 6 years of marriage he could still understand my little quirks. He let me retake his hand as he fell silent again.

"Just restless as all, flower," he said. "I'll be back in those chains tomorrow."

"I know. Is that what's keeping you up?"

"Partially."

I had a feeling. Logan is a man of many layers. It was a rarity for him to get miffed over a single thing. Despite his perceptually dark aura he was never one to fly off the handle out of nowhere. In fact, in all the years I've known him - 14 years for all the curious cats out there - I have yet to see him lose his temper so violently.

"What else, love?"

"You."

"Am I that amazing that I'm always on your mind?"

Probably not the best pick-up line in the world. Far too cliché these days. I didn't make it much better considering I was the one that said it either. I was never won over by cheesy one-liners, something that Logan learnt very early on when a boy back in Fifth Year tried to give me a colourful Valentine's card. It was chaotically fancy, not that I was complaining, though he described it as gaudy and messy. It's very you though, Rose. That's what he said to me. I accepted the card and politely turned him down after that. That pretty much marked the turning point in my friendship with Logan back then, when we were slowly realising we were catching feelings for each other. The only difference being that Logan knew how to comically land humour without trying too hard.

Logan managed a tiny curl at the side of his mouth at my piss-poor remark. "You're not wrong... But you're also going to worry about it, won't you?"

"Of course I will."

"You shouldn't though."

"It shows that I care."

Logan grunted. He knew I could keep it up. We've done this dance so many times over the years it's practically comedy at this point. My thumb glides slowly over the veins on his hand.

"Chopping wood won't help you settle, Logy." I waited a bit before thinking about continuing. Logan was capable of listening but he was stubborn as hell. He sometimes acted like a wild animal; you must slowly approach it and hold your hand out first, let it come to you before trying anything else. If you're too forceful, the animal will either run away or attack you. Logan was equally capable of backing away and building walls as he was at being vulnerable in his own unique way.

I eased my way to his chest and rested against him, giving him the opportunity to wrap his arm tighter around me. I didn't expect him to given the thousand-yard brooding stare he was projecting, but I was more focused on trying to get him to relax. No one would be able to tell, but Logan had very small subtle hints that could let me know he needed something to hold on to. The dark glint in his eyes as he looked away was one of them. The fact that I could feel him resisting to stop shaking from the tension was the other.

"I know that telling you everything will be okay isn't going to change how you're feeling right now, but just think, the whole morning after you can come out again. I can make you that tea you said you liked and we can-"

"-It's getting worse, Rose. It's more painful these days."

"I know, pet... But we're ready for it. And I know how much it must take out of you, but so long as you keep coming back as the special guy I love, then there's nothing to worry about."

He grunted again. Sometimes persuading him is a bit of a chipping game but even know I could tell he was processing my words. I smiled and managed to guide his face back down to me, the tips of my fingers lightly pressing against the stubble around his chin as I did so. Lonely-Wife Mode made one final return as I got on my tip-toes to lean in a bit. The man is over 6 foot. I wasn't going to keep him waiting by getting a stool - I was too good for that anyway.

"Come on... Where's my kiss?"

Logan was really struggling not to roll his eyes as if I wasn't the biggest cliché tease in the world. I chuckled and massaged his hand again.

"Come oooon..."

My cheeks got a proud sense of flare when he eventually leaned down to meet my lips. It was a short kiss but it was lovely. Short and sweet as they say. Without saying anything else, he linked both arms around my shoulders and walked me back upstairs with me in front. When we reached the bedroom he let go and got back into his side of the bed, beckoning me to join him in his arms. Curled up into our little ball once again he held me close as I fell asleep with my face nestled into his chest, not at all bothered by the musk of B.O that was caked across his being.

I secretly kept awake for a little bit longer, only finally falling asleep with a content sigh when I heard him breathe softly in his own snooze. Chalk another one up for Rose.

_{To Be Continued...}

Chapter 3

10.00am rolled in rather quickly later that morning. I often forgot how late we would both sleep no thanks to me chasing his rear back to bed just because he feels compelled to wander the house like a lost soul nearly every night.

With the sun forcing my eyes open and waking my exhausted body back to life, I unravelled myself from Logan's protective grip and hopped off the bed. I promised I'd make him tea and that's what I did. I walked back down into the kitchen which was now illuminated in morning light, a much more inviting glow compared to the dark and ominous atmosphere I'm forced to confront each night. I switched on the overly-loud kettle after I'd filled it with water and lift out a box of blackcurrant and apple tea bags. You would never guess that my husband was one for organic products. I'm pretty sure he got that from me though given the fact that I'm not keen on caffeine. Even generic tea doesn't really suit me, not without at least seven sprinklings of sugar anyway.

I cracked open a few windows while the tea was brewing. Living in a house in the middle of nowhere with nothing to shield you meant that the heat would get in quickly. Just as well that Logan had ceiling fans installed - Turns out you can get hot and bothered even in your 30s. That man puts up an awful lot with me.

The water finished boiling and once two piping hot mugs of fruit tea were poured I began to hear my husband's heavy footsteps above me. Figuring that he'd be coming down I bring the tea out into the front porch where it was only a little bit cooler, setting both mugs down at the side of a swinging chair we had by the front door. I curled up on one side as the sunshine blanketed my knees before Logan came out and joined me. I handed him his tea as he fell back onto the chair beside me before I stretched out my legs across his.

"Top of the morning."

"Hm..."

I nearly snorted on my tea. I could be dangling off the edge of Everest and he'd still greet me with his grunt. God I love him.

"Feeling any better today?"

"Only slightly. I'm still going to hate it later."

"I know, love." I tried to give him a loving nudge with my knee without spilling our tea. "But you know I'm going to be here to help you like always, don't you? I'll be right outside the door."

"Just don't come in while it happens, okay?" He gives me his firm stare. Years ago I'd be swallowing nervously as if another word could trigger something in him, but now after so long with him I learnt to smile and nod without fear. I know how much this means to him. He knows he can trust me anyway.

"Of course, love."

We read each other's minds and after a bit of shuffling on the chair, we both sat up properly to exchange a soft kiss. He finished his tea quickly before getting up.

"Hungry love? I can start making breakfast now."

He shook his head. "Just going to chop wood."

I stare at him blankly. Again...?! I put my mug down when I finished it and followed after him when he went back inside.

"Don't worry, love. I can do it."

"I'm fine, Rose. Let me do it."

I swear this man...

"Logan come on. You've already done plenty last night. If you really insist that it should be finished, then let me do it. I could do with a workout myself."

"Shouldn't you be getting ready for work?"

I glanced at the clock. Damn... He had a point. "I can spare thirty minutes to finish the wood. Just kick back and try and relax before tonight, yeah?"

He continued to thud across the house until he was three feet away from the back door. Stubborn as a mule.

"Logy please. Let me do it. Get your head showered in some fresh air. Take a walk. You could even go and grab a few groceries for me. We need something for an easy dinner tomorrow night anyway."

He paused at the door before sighing. A tiny smirk sparked across my face. The powers of a dedicated husband and a wife too smitten with him for him to argue with. He turned around and ruffled my hair before going back upstairs.

"Just make sure you're not late for work," he said as he disappeared up the stairs. I smiled as he walked off. I took a second glance at the clock.

"Fifteen minutes and then I'll bounce," I called back. I went out to the chopping block through the back door and picked up the axe where he dropped it last night. I wasn't super duper strong, but I did have enough muscle on me to show I was capable.

My swings with the axe were much less powerful than Logan's as a given fact. While he could do it like a katana through a watermelon, I had to hack at the wood before it would split. Nevertheless, it was a good workout for me.

After a while he came back downstairs in a shirt and fresh jeans. His hair was slightly unkempt but it was honestly what made him attractive.

"It's been twenty minutes, Ro."

I dropped the axe to the side of the block and hurried inside. I was like a frazzled school girl, throwing clothes on me that may or may not have been clean before rushing out the front door with the car keys.

I give him a quick kiss on the cheek as I disappeared out the house.

"I'll be home for six!"

_{To Be Continued...}

Chapter 4

I managed to slip through the front doors of the coffee house with no more than a minute to spare into my shift, at the cost of narrowly avoiding running a red light on the way down and parking the car sloppily in the private car park round the back. I could feel the gaze of my supervisor as I sped into the staff room and threw my belongings into my locker before scurrying back out as I tied my apron around me. Supervisor Suzanne wasn't an angry lady but she was capable of being strict as she was fair. I was luckily to just get a distant stare and an inaudible word from her as she disappeared away from the counter. Not because I was one minute late but because I looked like the Tasmanian Devil running into her establishment.

It's a rather overdone choice, working as a coffee barista, though I think it's justified in my case. Living out in the middle of nowhere where the nearest communal gathering spot for groceries and whatnot is a near ten mile drive - or four hour walk if you have time on your hands and have done the maths - means that you have to make your earnings somehow. Villages in mountains are pretty much inherently generous. I was a pure city kid while Logan often travelled in his younger years with his parents. Naturally I was a bit nervous when Logan pitched the idea of us moving all the way out here where no one would find us after a certain condition of his got in the way of our previous outings. Though down the line I found I was put in my place by how kind the community was. We didn't have a huge farmland back home but we did have a reasonably sized field for vegetable farming. Yearly we would buy seeds, if not collect our own from our own crops, and plant them for seasonal harvests. We've only been at it for a couple years but thank God for our neighbours and feasible rent for the help. I'm happy to say that I've become much more of an Earth-lover and I'm not the only one. It's all become very therapeutic for Logan. You'd never see him whistle a tune outside of gardening time. I only really do it if I'm stuck for things to do. Laundry and dishes are my comfort chores.

The coffee house gig was a time filler. It was a nice village we lived close to. Well, as close as we could get. Didn't mean that I wasn't willing to try and make friends. Not to mention that brewing coffee felt a bit like making a bar drink - a very refined one at that of course. Still, both are quite similar in that they had a nice flow, throwing syrups and milk in and listening to the blenders blitz and brewers brew. Bloody love it all.

I had the radio on the popular Jazz channel as I always did when at work. The community was tiny and nearly everyone knows who Logan and I are yet I had the music on as if everyone who came in needed a reminder as to who was on staff.

One guy came in and asked for "The Usual." He'd only been by the joint two other occasions within the last year alone. I feigned a poor memory and thankfully he "reminded" me of his fondness for the vanilla latte we served. A simple start to the shift. A quiet hour went by before more people came in during their lunch breaks. A group of builders came in and ordered nearly everything under the sun. Their patience was impeccable as I scrambled to try to make sense of their order tickets. A good long ten minutes later and I managed to get them everything they paid for. I gave them the kitchen sink on the house while I was at it.

Mrs Mellinger, a teacher from the village high school, walked in and started going off about bad omens in the mountain range. I nodded my head in idle ignorance as I made her caramel macchiato.

"A lot happens when up in the mountains, Rosemary."

"No doubt about that, Mrs Mellinger."

"Remember those people found on Everest?"

"Yes, it can be a scary world sometimes, Mrs Mellinger."

"I fear when our mountains are stricken with catastrophe."

"We can only hope it'll be okay, Mrs Mellinger."

I did my best to usher Mr Mellinger and her macchiato away from the counter before I had to listen to any more of her fearmongered ramblings. Not that I wasn't worried myself of course, I had just heard it enough times from Logan.

My shift ended just before the kids broke out for school. Thank God I didn't have the Thursday shift. From what Gail tells me those are always a doozy. Though I doubt it's nothing compared to what I went through with Logan on most nights.

When I retrieved my belongings when Gail switched me out I sent a quick text to Logy to let him know I was on my way home. It wasn't two minutes before he sent a reply back to me:

"Try not to mosey. It's already starting."

Good lord... This early?

I made like the Tasmanian Devil and rushed back to the car, kicking the gas pedal down. I had a hunch and as much as I wanted to be proved wrong I didn't want to hang around and push my luck. If Logan really needed me, then he needed me. No questions asked.

_{To Be Continued...}

Chapter 5

By the time I arrived home Logan sent three more messages each growing with urgency. He's never one to play up a situation and while it was only three short messages, they were three more than he would ever send to me when things got tough at home.

I rolled up into the driveway as the sun began to set over the horizon and fell out of the car before scrambling in through the front door. I threw my bag perfectly onto the bannister of the staircase and hurried into the living room.

"Logy? You in here, love?"

Not here. Kitchen?

"Logy?"

Has to be the garden then. Fresh air would clean out the stress.

"Logan?"

Where the hell is he? Oh God if he left the house in the state I feared he's in...

"Ro...?"

I flip my head back towards the staircase where I saw Logan steadily descend the stairs, a slight depth in his breathing. I ran to him and embraced him when he reached the bottom. I could feel his muscles clench under my touch, his veins pulsing as he tried to control his breathing. His heart was beating so hard it could almost bump a dent into my chest. His face was buried into my neck as his hands wandered my back, the tension running through him.

I did my best to hold him comfortably though he wasn't making it easy with his weight right on top of me. The most I could do was pat the underside of his arms gently while I let him try to work out his frustration on me.

"How bad is it, sweetheart?"

"Like a damn jackhammer." He let out a frustrated grunt before repositioning his head on my shoulder as if feeling the sensation in his skull. I move my hands a little bit, trying to find where he's feeling it but with his muscles bouncing it was hard to gauge it. Nevertheless, work had to be done about it. I could feel him tensing up more the longer we stayed like this.

"Downstairs?"

He nodded and let go of me. His footsteps echoed as he made his way into the basement tucked away between the cleaning cupboard and the kitchen doorway. I followed him silently. I hadn't anticipated to be doing this with him this early in the evening. Then again it had started to get tough over the last year.

When people get suspicious Logan and I gently tell them that he has a condition that equates to a sudden temper. Sometimes verbal, sometimes violent but never through his own volition. Logan can be big and muscly all he wants but you'd never find him hurt anyone. The thing is, we played down heavily what his condition actually was.

In the oversized basement was a small workbench and metal bars that could be pulled along from the wall and join to the other side. At the back were chains to attach on to either someone's hands or limbs. The walls - the back wall in particular - was decorated in claw marks and was missing chunks, being hidden behind bits of metal to try and cover up the damages.

Logan expressed the same familiar look of discontent whenever he would come down here, either for this or even as simple as for looking for something. He hated every spec of this room and I honestly couldn't blame him.

He walked over and began to strip as I fetched the chains from the back wall. They felt cold and ragged under me from all the wear and tear over the years. We were well rehearsed in this routine yet we never found it getting any easier for either of us.

With his clothes off I went and strapped the chains to Logan's ankles. The pulsing sensation was still there but he stood there like a stone cold pillar. It was the usual mixture of trying to compose himself in the circumstances and the defeated demeanour of the whole thing.

I looked at my watch and saw it was almost 7.30pm. It made sense that he would be feeling it now. The beads of sweat that began to form on his forehead was reflective of that. He breathed heavily as he tried to manage what was happening to him.

"Logan..." I went to take his arm. His fingers linked with mine as he looked at me warningly.

"You need to go. Lock the bars and get the hell out." Logan faced away from me. I continued to pepper a few kisses to his back and shoulder.

I could feel him sigh as I held him from behind. "Rose."

"I know, but..." I continued to shower his back with worried affection. He squeezed my shoulder before withdrawing from me entirely. His pulsing pink body hid itself away in the corner, the chains being pulled along at his legs as he walked away from me. The second he was a few feet away from me he suddenly jerked, followed by a quick string of grunts and groans. It was getting stronger already.

I left the space and pulled the bars across the room, caging him in like an animal. I walked over to the other wall where the door was and waited. The next phase of our nightly routine was about to commence.

_{To Be Continued...}

Chapter 6

The minutes passed slowly in an overwhelmingly heavy and anticipated silence as Logan stood at the far wall. I was only a few feet away but I knew he'd tell me to get further pretty soon.

At 8.00pm that's when he started shaking a lot more, a few strained grunts escaping his mouth as the chains rattled when whatever was in him was trying to boil over and break free. The twitch he'd have began not long afterwards.

I saw the familiar glint in his eyes that followed the writhing. That horrid evil yellow that glazed over his eyes and the veins that travelled along his body becoming more pronounced. I didn't have long before I'd lose him completely.

I hurried over to hold him just for those last few seconds, beckoning him over so I could touch him.

"Ro... Leave," he managed to say through his struggling voice. I managed to brush his cheek with my hand before giving him one last kiss.

"You'll be okay, babe... I'll see you in the morning. Breathe and be brave...!"

I left him and went up the basement stairs. The sounds of his pain and limbs crunching followed me out to the living room where I sat by the wall after locking the basement door behind me.

This was usually the part where if people passed our home back in the city, we'd be getting noise complaints soon after. If not that, it would be the interrogation of questions. "Do you have a dog? It sounded like a bear. Did you guys have a fight? We heard lots of banging." Hell, wouldn't they like to know now.

The haunting noises of Logan crying out as his limbs broke apart and reformed beneath the house reached my ears. Once again I was fighting back the urge to break down into tears. He'd often told me not to cry for a man who struggles to hold back his monsters.

I always hated that's how he saw himself. A monster. He wasn't really. Only when it got to these kinds of nights was that I would admit he would be "different." We often joked that he was a werewolf. He wasn't though. He never grew fur. And there was no full moon required for these nightly transformations. They just happened when the evening rolled in.

He'd never let me see him when he changed. Not once in all the time we've been doing this - since we've known each other - have I seen what he turned into. At least not fully. I knew he got muscly and veiny. He grew five times the size of himself. He was like Edward Hyde. It was still him but not him. Unlike most monster romances, where the partner could charm their mutated lover, it pained me that I could still recognise him underneath and yet can't feel safe unless he's in that cage. I tried it once. He lunged at the cage like it wasn't there, solely so that the "him" inside him could get to me and devour me. Of course it was a cannibal. Bats an eyelid to chicken wings but salivates at the sight of his vessel's missus. Romantically disgusting.

His cries passed and the swift overtake of animalistic gnashing paraded from the basement. The sonorous clanging of the metal bars deafened from below as the force containing it tried to bash through them with the full weight of itself. I'm no science girl but all I know is that thank God for near impenetrable metals. Sure by now a few of them were a bit bent but they still held up well. Chains were a hit or miss. Some chains would last a good while before they'd needed replacing. Other times they'd shatter the second Logan starts mutating and then we're stuck in perpetual anxiety to see if the bastard would actually break out. The tally chart remains at zero to this day. Phew.

I remained curled up on the sofa. Every now and then the creature would rouse a twitch from me after scaring the bejezus out of me while it continues to pound downstairs. I grab my earphones which I had placed in precision on the table beside me like it was some superhero weapon and I stick them in my ears. System of a Down would probably be enough to block it out.

He continued downstairs. After an hour he got louder so that I could feel the wall shiver behind me. Bullet For My Valentine it is.

Then the bastard got louder. Fuck sake.

I turn the volume up on my phone. With my ears now saturated in the guitar riffs of "Her Voice Resides" I had a feeling that this was going to be a rough night. Though no matter what Logan will have beaten me to it on that front. The night raged on and so did he...

_{To Be Continued...}

Chapter 7

Nights like these, he and I barely get any sleep. His tenacity for trying to break down the door and most likely drag the basement with him so that he can prowl and prey on good people have kept me in almost a constant state of awakeness. The first time we noticed his transformations getting more frequent, it was a like trying to balance on a tight rope made of broken glass - staying awake to keep upright and ensure the bloke didn't get out. If that happened, you'd be pretty much guaranteed a devouring, if not a bloody consequence of any other variety.

At four o'clock in the morning he began to calm down but by that point I had surrendered myself to keep chugging along until dawn. I was inches away from face-planting the wooden living room floor, my eyes black and bloodshot. But I had to stay awake. I would. If it meant seeing my Logy again.

I managed to just barely hang in there - per usual - when six thirty rolled around, when I heard the grunts and groans of a monster silencing and a man waking back up. I mustered enough energy to pull myself off the floor and stumbled tiredly to the basement.

"Logan...? Speak to me, babe..."

...

"Logy please..."

...

...

"... Rose."

It was incredibly faint, but I heard him. More than enough vindication for me to bust the basement door open and hurry down the stairs, albeit a little blindly as my eyes struggled to keep open. The eyes ultimately widened when I saw Logan, sweaty and exhausted on the cold basement floor, his limbs bloodied and strained against the chains.

"Logan!" The tone of my exclamations after every transformation never change, but neither does the saddening state that Logan wakes up to after his nightly terrors. I rushed to crack open the bars and despite the blood, I embraced him. I felt his worn down arms wrap around me as we held each other. Logan is a hard-ass and barely reacts to any affection - at least not outwardly - but its these specific moments that he nuzzles into the crook of my neck as if to inhale and remember my every fibre and essence. A sign that lets me know that he's back and I'm here for him.

After minutes of silence we released each other. I undid his chains and got him off the ground, the smell of burning copper and raw meat puncturing my nostrils as I flung his arm around my shoulders. Between my zombie stupor and his heavyweight well-toned body, we hobbled and struggled back up the basement stairs and towards the bathroom.

"How bad was it this time?" He grunted.

"No different than usual, love." That was as polite as I could be with the situation. Logan could tell I was none too impressed with having to sacrifice my nights to look out for his monster arse. The pay off was the only saving grace. My husband is my everything, and even as an inhuman, I always made sure he knew it.

In the bathroom, I sat him on the toilet seat while I rummaged the cabinet for the stock of bandages we kept for these occasions. Setting them aside, I took a wet towel and nursed his cut open skin wounds. He really did a number on them this time, strips of claw marks and bites reaching as high as his elbows and his thighs. Every now and then, a wince or groan whispered out of Logan's mouth, a pained look etched in accompaniment as the towel glided along the wounds.

I kept yawning as I wrapped the bandages around him. I didn't even realise I stopped when my eyes subconsciously closed that Logan had to take my hands and help me patch him up.

"Sorry babe, I'm really trying..." I shake my head, as if shaking away my sleep was actually going to help. It didn't, needless to say.

"I got it." Logan and I have danced this dance long enough that he could probably do all this himself, if he really wanted to. I'm quite certain he only lets me do this because he knew I'd sicken myself with worry if I didn't get in on the action. He had me press down on the bandages as he tied the ends together before we both trudged into the bedroom. We collapsed on top of each other when we were close enough to the bed to just fall in.

I'm certain I was already asleep well before my head hit the pillow, though my body was awake for the final few seconds where Logan held me tight against him, his chin and nose pressed on top of my forehead as we succumbed to Snooze-land.

"Taking it like a champ as always, Ro... Love you."

_{To Be Continued...}

Chapter 8

Back in the early days of my job, I used to be at least an hour and a half late for work half of the week. My excuse to the supervisor was that I often had restless nights relating to nightmares and paranoia. In fairness I wasn't exactly lying; I've had plenty of bad dreams of losing Logan in the night, which is why I'm so twitchy about him disappearing out of bed when he can't sleep. It was the best excuse I could give her to cover Logan's rear in the off chance someone decides to get suspicious.

Which is why I'm eternally grateful to have the late shift most days of the week. It works out pretty well, being able to sleep in, work, let Logan rest and then collapse into bed with him again all snuggled and packed like a well made sandwich.

Speaking of which, Logan had his whole torso piled on top of me by the time I woke up the next day. One of the best things about it though is that I can hug Logan as hard as I want and he won't complain since he's always too tired to even grumble about it. Though being my husband, I like to think that there's genuine affection - if not a transactional obligation - to enjoy it when his wife holds onto him for dear life.

I'm completely smitten with the man so there shouldn't be a problem.

My hands wandered the usual places as I cradle his sleepy head close to me. They start by trailing over the broken skin on his back where he's scratched and cut himself open during one of his "episodes" before they travel up and play in his hair, twisting the loose strands between the digits as they revel in the sweaty but satisfying feel of it.

I dosed while he snoozed on top of me. At around 11.00 am he stirred and soon the tables turned, with his hands going into my hair until I open my eyes to meet his.

"Morning..."

"Mornin'"

A few nose rubs and a kiss later, he slid off me, taking all the weight he pressed into my chest with him.

"Sleep alright?" he asked me.

"Same as always. Pleasant. Though I should be asking you that."

"The arms are sore but they're not bleeding. Back's a bit twitchy from the cuts there. All in all, could've been worse."

I sit up against the head board. "Do you need me to get you some more painkillers?"

"For the arms, yeah." Logan clicked his tongue in pain as he traced the bandages on his arm. "That cream would be nice too."

"I need to buy more of it, hon. There won't be enough for all the cuts on your back."

"Shit..."

I scooted over and his arm flopped over my shoulder, bringing me into a hug as if we rehearsed it... Which we have. He knows I love my cuddles. I set my hand on his cheek, pulling the side of his head until it rested on top of mine.

"You'll live, hon. If anything, despite how rough the night was, I'm surprised your wounds have healed so nicely."

"If only the bastard didn't cut me open so much then I wouldn't be so bloody grumpy and sore all the time... I swear, Rose... It's getting more aggressive. Maybe not in the actual wounds but certainly in how much it's digging it's nails into me in more places than usual."

I planted another kiss against his stubble and leaned into him. "So long as it doesn't do anything that grievously harms you, I can manage."

"That's just it, Ro. If one day that does happen and you're not quick enough..." He trailed off, his expression going dark. I tried to bring light back into it with some reassurance.

"I'm fast on my feet, Logan. I've always had your back and that won't change."

"That's not my point," he interjected. "If I end up damaging myself during one of my episodes so bad that I--"

I immediately shushed him as soon as I caught on to what he was trying to say.

"Don't think like that," I said firmly. "We've talked about it before. Even if you were literally dying I won't stop at nothing until I got you safe and sound again. Besides..."

I softened my tone. "We promised we wouldn't blame ourselves if things went wrong..."

Because he and I both knew that we would be the cause of each other's eternal pain if we ever did that, which is what neither of us want for each other.

Logan tightened his grip on me and pecked my forehead.

"You're still my brave little sugar."

I returned the gesture. "That's you, babe."

After a few more smooches we finally withdrew from each other. Such a pity that we only get so many hours in a day left between his episodes and work. All I wanted was an extra hour in bed but the days don't wait for us to carry on with our lives.

Ah well. That's what tonight would be for, except it'll be more than an extra hour I'll get to be with him.

_{To Be Continued...}

Chapter 9

I like to keep a tally of the coffees I sell when I'm at my job. Just a bit of fun as I will away the last few hours. For example, I completed seventeen cappuccino orders during my entire shift. In second place was twelve caramel macchiatos - they're quite popular with the high school kids as it turns out. Third place was a generous selling of nine mochas. Bless the elders of the community book club that buy them weekly.

Combine those numbers together and that's the amount of hours of sleep I wish I could take back. If not double that. And I know Logan would say the same. This late into the shift and I'm for sure certain he's still sleeping it off as best as he can. Though with the frequent assault to his body wrought by the hellish transformations, sleep and comfort were hard to make last.

I found myself struggling to measure out the milk on a cappuccino order when it got close to closing time. I suppose the brain decided there was enough effort put into my work ethic for the supervisor that half an hour before closure was the perfect time to slack off, if only slightly. That wasn't going to excuse the fact I nearly poured the milk all over the counter however, when I stopped focusing for two seconds. The guy waiting for his coffee behind the counter looked at me as if I was on drugs or something.

As soon as he left, I went into the backroom for a quick breather, pretending I went to grab more serviettes when the supervisor realised no one was manning the station. I downed a Red Bull, praying it would be enough to keep me awake for the last hurdle of this shift.

A pity that Red Bull never gave you wings like it claimed in the ads. If it did, I could just fly back home and into Logan's arms, and there wouldn't be a sodding thing my supervisor would do about it. It reminded me of a woman who came by for her morning espresso one time and remarked on how a man actually sued the company, because it doesn't actually give you wings.

If I wasn't married to Logan, I would've run off with the brave tosser that went through legal proceedings over a corny product slogan. Makes me wonder how Logan puts up with me, since I'm definitely someone with that kind of humour and sass. Hell, I once said to the burrito bar worker that it was un-scrumpdiddlyumptious of them to have stopped serving their garlic mayo with their products. Logan had made it his due diligence to remind me of that outburst every time we pass the place.

It was about time that my shift ended and as soon as the last customer crossed the threshold back out of the shop and the coffee makers were turned off, I booked it to the backroom, grabbed my stuff and hurried home. Even when I knew Logan was okay, I always made the effort to make it back quickly. I'd go faster but the main road had been infested with way too many speed cameras for me to risk going slightly over the limit for.

Not long after fleeing work, I pulled up into the driveway and once I rushed inside with my shoes kicked off at the door, I rowed up the stairs towards the bedroom. Logan was still there, laying amongst the tangled sheets in his final form, toned muscle, guns and all.

I wiggled my way into bed and Logan snatched me in his embrace like he sensed me from afar. I could feel some of his wounds are already healing nicely.

"Work good?" He mumbled, his throat hoarse from sleep.

"Went on for too long."

"Missed me that much eh?"

I poked his forehead. "Nearly spilt half the bloody milk cartoon all over me earlier."

He rearranged his position on the bed so that he was spooning me from behind. His hands palm my front, holding me in place with a gentleness that could only come from him and his exhausted self.

"Have a nap. I'll get dinner started soon." Of course, "soon" wasn't looking too likely at the minute given his firm grip on me.

"I'll do it," I said.

Logan held onto me tighter. I felt him shift behind me again. "No. Sleep. Leftovers won't take much effort."

After another few minutes, his arms loosen and his weight disappeared from off the bed. With him gone, I hug one of the pillows as he pounded down the stairs where I could still him hear shuffle about in the kitchen.

I've long theorised Logan blames himself for my lack of sleep, the same way he blames his condition for his own. I've given up telling him he's not at fault, that it's something we just need to adapt a little better to. Not that he ever listened, mind. Which is probably why he pushes himself to be more proactive around the house since I'm the breadwinner between the two of us.

While I don't like him trying to play househusband when he's torn apart all over, I'll never deny his resilience. Makes all the more grateful we haven't succumbed to the tragic monster romance story like what goes on in those supernatural stories.

Lonely-Wife Mode kicks in and I hug the pillow harder. No matter what, I was determined to make this marriage work.

Even if at times, Logan felt like he was drifting away from me to the point that I miss him... And he's only in the bloody kitchen.

_{To Be Continued...}