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Chapter 227- Logan Stop!!!

LOGAN’S POV

The mont Tyler stord out. I leaned back on the bed with a sigh of relief. Finally. Peace and quiet.

I adjusted my pillow behind and stretched my legs like a king who just sent his servant on a mission. All he had to do was get food. That’s literally all. It wasn’t hard. I even told him exactly what to do. Should be easy for soone who broke into my house and listened to my private conversation, right?

I closed my eyes, planning to take a quick nap while I waited.

That was the plan.

Except... my stomach had other ideas.

It growled so loudly I swear it shook my ribs. Hunger punched through .

"Ugh, what the hell..." I groaned, rolling to the side.

I tried to ignore it. Tried to breathe and relax and pretend I wasn’t starving. But it didn’t work. The hunger was driving crazy. It was making loose every strength I have.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

I pushed off the bed and dragged myself toward the door. Maybe Tyler was already on his way and I could et him halfway and snatch the food before he even opened his annoying mouth.

I opened the door.

Nothing.

The hallway was empty. Silent. No footsteps. No Tyler.

"Fuckkkkk," I muttered under my breath, slapping the doorfra softly. "Why the hell is he taking this long?"

I checked the ti.

Three minutes.

Only three minutes had passed? God, it felt like twenty.

Maybe I was overreacting. Maybe I needed to calm down. Maybe there was a line at the cafeteria. Or a fight broke out. Or maybe Naomi was running her mouth and slowing him down.

Maybe he was trying, and I just needed to be patient.

. Logan. Patient. Wow.

I sighed and walked back to my bed in defeat and in frustration. Lay down again, tried to close my eyes. My stomach growled again, this ti louder and more painful.

No sleep was coming. I was too hungry for that.

So I set an alarm for fifteen minutes. Just a short nap, I told myself. Just enough to reset my brain.

I closed my eyes again and filled my mind with nonsense—random thoughts, mories, insults I was saving for Tyler, ways I could prank Naomi, how I’d make Tyler suffer if he ssed this up. Anything to distract from the fire burning in my stomach.

Then—BEEP BEEP BEEP!

The alarm rang.

"What the—?" I muttered, turning my head to the other side with my eyes still closed."Already?"

I hadn’t even been asleep for three minutes.

Guess my brain was lying to again. Probably because I was already thinking about food while trying not to think about food.

I smiled to myself. "He’s probably back by now," I whispered. "He’s probably in the room, putting the tray down quietly. Maybe he didn’t want to wake ."

I slowly opened my eyes.

The room was empty.

No tray. No sll of food. No Tyler.

My smile dropped imdiately. I stood up too fast and the whole room spun. I almost fainted right there.

I grabbed the wall and sat back down quickly.

"I’m going to die," I whispered to myself. "This is how it ends. Death by starvation. At the hands of that bastard."

After a minute, I stood up again—slowly this ti—and dragged myself back to the door.

Still no sign of him.

That’s when it hit .

He didn’t get the food. He left here. Hungry. Weak. Alone.

"That little bastard," I muttered, gripping the doorfra like it was the only thing keeping alive.

So he really did it? He really had the nerve? After all the nonsense he gave earlier, he actually left here without food?

My vision blurred with anger and hunger. I was two seconds away from screaming.

"I’m going to kill him."

I put on my slippers as I opened the door and walked out of the room.

My steps were fast but slow at the sa ti. My legs were shaking because of the hunger.

The hallway felt like it stretched for miles. I was sweating. I was lightheaded. I was whispering curses under my breath the whole way.

When I finally reached the cafeteria, it felt like I’d climbed a mountain.

I didn’t even scan the tables. Didn’t look for Tyler. I went straight to the counter, gripping the edge like I might pass out any second.

"Please," I said, my voice weak and desperate. "Just... give anything. I don’t care what it is. I don’t even have the strength to choose."

The lady behind the counter gave the kindest, most painful smile in the world.

"I’m sorry, dear. The food is finished. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow."

I blinked.

"What?"

"The al’s over."

The mont I heard that ridiculous sentence. I swear sothing inside snapped.

Are they joking? I asked myself, frozen in place.

I didn’t move. I didn’t blink. I just stood there, staring at the server like she’d grown two heads.

Because there was no way—no damn way—they were telling that the food was finished.

Not after I dragged my weak, hungry, dying body all the way from the dorms to this joke of a cafeteria.

I told myself to breathe. To act like I didn’t hear what I just heard. Because if I let this hunger and anger take full control of , I swear to God, I would scatter this whole place.

And they’d still have to feed afterward.

I clenched my jaw, swallowed my rage, and forced a fake calm into my voice.

"You must be kidding." I said slowly, squinting at the server like I was giving her a final chance to redeem his life.

She just shrugged. "I wish we were, man. But the al’s finished. Nothing left."

"First of all," I snapped, "I am not your fucking man. Second of all, you better go and get sothing to eat before I lose what’s left of my sanity."

But she just stood there. Shrugged again like so brainless robot and turned to wipe the counter.

I took a deep breath. I needed to calm down. I was really, really trying.

But these people weren’t helping.

"Let’s talk about this damn school," I muttered loudly, pacing in frustration. "What kind of school brings students on a trip and doesn’t even have enough food for everyone?"

I turned to the server again. "What kind of school finishes serving dinner in under 20 minutes?"

I pointed at the clock. "It’s not even 7:30! And you want to wait until tomorrow morning to eat again? So you’re telling I should starve for the next 12 hours when I already feel like I’m dying right now?!"

I was breathing hard now. My fists were clenched. My voice was shaking from how pissed I was.

"Are you seriously kidding right now?" I asked again, hoping this was so prank and caras would pop out from the corners.

But the lady didn’t laugh. She just looked bored.

"I wish we were," she said with a sigh. "But really, there’s nothing left. If you don’t mind, excuse us—we need to clean up for tomorrow." Then she turned her back and walked away like I was so stray dog barking at him.

Oh, wow.

They were playing with . Stepping on every nerve I had left.

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to break everything. And for a second, I almost did it right there in the cafeteria.

But then I stopped myself. No. I wouldn’t cause a scene here.

I’d cause it in the kitchen.

With that thought, I stord past the counter and pushed through the swinging doors straight into the kitchen.

Everyone turned when I barged in. They looked confused. Nervous.

I walked straight to the pots and pans and started scattering everything.

"You don’t want to give food?!" I yelled. "Fine! I’ll destroy your precious cooking equipnt! Let’s see how you cook for tomorrow!"

One of the kitchen staff ran up to . "Sir, please—you don’t have to do this!"

"Yes! Yes, I do!" I shouted back, knocking over a stack of trays. "And I’m going to do it! Don’t test !"

I grabbed one of the plates and was about to fling it across the room when this tall guy—probably the head cook or so security clown—stepped in front of .

He folded his arms like he was tough.

"Sir," he said calmly, "if you don’t leave right now, we’ll be forced to throw you out. And if you resist, we’ll beat you."

He actually smiled.

Like I was soone he could intimidate with empty threats.

"Ohh..." I laughed darkly, shaking my head. "You really don’t know who I am, do you?"

This bastard really thought I was the one to ss with. He had no clue how wicked I could be.

I took a step forward and cocked my fist, ready to punch his smug face

"You an like this?" I growled, about to swing—

"Logan, STOP!"

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