Make me

Stephanie’s Pov

“Listen, Stephanie…” Logan’s voice broke through the suffocating silence inside the car, low, rough, and laced with a deadly kind of restraint.

My head snapped up, my eyes locking onto him through the rearview mirror. Dark, unreadable eyes stared back at me.

“We had a mission,” he continued, his tone dangerously calm. “A mission to kill you because of something you did in the past.”

My heart didn't just drop—it completely stopped.

What?

For a terrifying second, I couldn't breathe.

“But I can't kill you,” he added after a heavy, agonizing pause. “At least... not yet.”

Not yet?

The words echoed in my mind like a death sentence. What the hell was that supposed to mean? I stared at the back of his head, my vision blurring as my brain struggled to process the nightmare unfolding around me.

“Wait. What did you just say?”

Silence stretched between us. He didn't even blink.

“Not yet?” My voice cracked, rising as pure panic and confusion clawed at my chest. “What do you mean, not yet?! Are you planning to execute me later?!”

“Stephanie—”

“No!” I screamed, leaning forward despite the agonizing soreness aching deep in my body. “You don't get to casually inform me that I’m on a hit list and then expect me to sit back here and shut up!”

His fingers dug into the leather steering wheel until his knuckles turned stark white.

“Lower your voice,” he ordered, a sharp warning cutting through his words.

I was already past the reason. My chest heaved as furious, hysterical panic broke through the fog of my trauma.

“Lower my voice?!” A harsh, disbelieving laugh tore from my throat, hot tears of absolute terror finally stinging my eyes. “You just admitted you were hired to murder me, and your main concern is my volume?!”

“I'm trying to explain something to you.”

“Then fucking explain!”

He exhaled sharply, a cold, harsh sound that filled the dark cabin. His eyes snapped back to the endless stretch of pitch-black highway ahead.

“You should keep quiet until we get home,” he advised, his gaze flickering back to mine in the mirror, chillingly unwavering. “I'll tell you everything there.”

“Home?” A bitter, broken sob spilled out, tasting like ash on my tongue. “There is no home without my mother!”

His jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched beneath his skin, but he kept his eyes locked on the road, refusing to grant me a single drop of pity.

“Where is she, Logan?” I demanded, gripping the front seat, my fingernails digging into the leather.

Silence.

“Is she still alive?!” My voice trembled with pure venom as the horrific truth of what had happened to me spilled out. “Did you and your twisted son do the same thing to her?! Did you both fucked her and then murder her, too?!”

Still nothing. Just the deep, rhythmic hum of the engine carving through the night.

“ANSWER ME!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, my body shaking with uncontrollable rage.

Logan’s dark eyes caught mine in the rearview mirror—cold, sharp, and devoid of a single drop of remorse.

“You push me any further, Stephanie,” he said, his voice dropping into a deadly whisper that froze the blood in my veins, “And you won't live long enough to see what happens when we pull up.”

I clamped my jaw shut, but hot, frustrated tears burned my eyes anyway. My chest heaved under the oversized shirt hanging off my bruised shoulders.

My mother was missing. I had nearly lost my life. Diamond had brutalized me, and Logan, the man who was supposed to be my stepfather, the man who had just taken my body alongside his son and then pummeled him, bloodied onto the floor had just casually admitted that I was on a hit list.

Yet somehow, he expected me to sit in the back seat, remain quiet, and behave like a good little prisoner.

No. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing down the violent tremble in my hands. I need to survive this car ride. I need to find my mom, get out of this car, and report every single one of these monsters to the cops.

I swallowed the painful lump forming in my throat and forced myself to ask the one question tearing my soul apart.

“What exactly did I do?”

Logan's eyes flickered toward the mirror, catching mine. “What?”

“You said you were sent to kill me because of something I did in the past,” I said, my voice cracking beneath the weight of confusion. “What did I do, Logan? Because as far as I remember, I’ve never done a damn thing to make anyone want me dead.”

His expression hardened into cold, impenetrable stone. “Some things are better left alone.”

No, they aren't!” I snapped, my temper flaring straight through the terror. “I deserve to know what—”

“I told you to drop it,” Logan cut in, his voice quiet, flat, and chillingly controlled as he watched me through the mirror. “You’re alive right now because I chose to bring you out of that house. Remember that before you keep running your mouth.”

His words struck like a spark, and every ounce of remaining fear inside me instantly detonated into pure, white-hot rage.

“Remember that? You want me to be grateful?!” My voice shattered as I leaned forward into the space between the front seats, my hands shaking with raw fury. “You let Diamond hurt me! You stood there and watched! You sit there claiming you’re not a horrible person, acting like some savior, but you’re a monster, Logan! You kidnapped me, you took advantage of me, and now you expect a thank you? If you were sent to kill me, why didn't you just let your maniac son finish the job? Why pull me out of there at all?!”

“I have my reasons,” Logan said smoothly, though the strain in his voice betrayed the white-knuckled grip he kept on the steering wheel.

“What reasons?!” I demanded, tears of frustration blinding me. “What reason could justify putting me through that nightmare? Why kidnap me for your son in the first place?!”

“My son is a maniac,” he gritted out, a rare flicker of genuine, dark rage breaking through his calm mask. “Imagine what he would have done to you if he was left unchecked.”

“So what?!” A bitter sob tore out of me. “Did he kill your wife, too?! Did he kill my mother?!”

Logan ignored the question, his lips pressing into a hard, thin line. “Can we talk about this later?”

“No! Answer me!” My voice cracked, raw and suffocating. “Why didn't you just kill me like your son wanted? Why save me?!”

“Because I can't do that,” he snapped, his jaw tightening until a muscle twitched beneath his skin. “I'm not a murderer.”

“Because I can't do that,” he snapped, his jaw tightening until a muscle twitched beneath his skin. “I'm not a murderer.”

“Oh, so you're not a murderer?” I mocked hysterically, scalding tears streaming down my cheeks as a bitter laugh tore from my throat. “Right! You’re just a pimp! A sick, twisted pimp! You sat back and let your own son violate me! You handed me over to him like I was garbage, and now you want to pretend your hands are clean? You shared me with him, Logan! You’re just as guilty as he is!”

At my words, Logan’s rigid composure faltered for a fraction of a second. A raw, dark shadow crossed his features in the mirror, his eyes darkening, his breath hitching slightly before he buried it beneath a mask of stone. A silent beat of deep, agonizing regret flickered across his face, as if my words had struck a nerve he had been trying desperately to numb. He had been blinded by whatever dark history drove him, but watching me unravel in front of him made the reality of what he’d permitted cut through him like glass.

His silence was deafening, but I couldn't stop. The sheer agony ripping through me pushed me past the point of self-preservation.

“What's the matter, Logan? Is the truth too ugly for you?!” I sobbed, my voice shattering off the leather interior. “You let him lay his hands on me, you took advantage of me yourself, and now you want to play the fucking hero? You’re sickening! You’re both fucking monsters!”

“Stephanie, stop pushing me,” he gritted out, his knuckles turning stark white on the wheel, his breathing heavy and dangerous.

“Or what?!” I screamed back, leaning straight into his space, my cheeks wet, my frame shaking with fury. “What are you gonna do to me?! Kill me?! Go on then! Shoot me! Drop me on the side of the road! You already took everything from me!”

That was the final straw. His composure completely snapped.

The speedometer needle jumped as Logan slammed his foot on the gas, the engine roaring like an unleashed beast. The tires screeched against the asphalt, and for a terrifying second, the car swerved wildly into the dark lane before he straightened it out, his dark eyes locking onto mine in the rearview mirror with a filthy, consuming intensity that made my heart leap straight into my throat.

“Shut the fuck up, Stephanie,” he warned, his voice dropping into a low, raspy, dangerous register that sent a violent, forbidden chill straight down my spine. “Shut that pretty mouth up right now.”

“Make me!” I dared, my voice cracking, refusing to back down. “What are you gonna do?!”

Logan’s gaze darkened.

“You test me one more time,” he growled, voice dropping an octave lower, thick with dark promise, “and I will slam my foot on this brake, pull off into these woods, and crawl into that backseat. I won’t just shut you up with my mouth, Princess… I’ll shove myself so deep down your throat you’ll be choking on me until you’re begging me on your knees to fuck you right here on the leather.”