A shadow creeps into the Rockwell house. The doors are locked but they never lock the windows.

Riley’s sleep is peaceful, dead and restful. She doesn’t stir, even as something out of the dark joins her in bed.

Logan’s having a bad dream again, a bad sweat. It’s the same struggle for the thousand-thousandth time: he’s doing things he’d never do, hurting people he’d never hurt, watching himself spin out of control and getting off on the power.

Alarm startles him awake: time for work. Calling in sick crosses his mind; he feels it. No, better let the night’s visions dissipate in routine. He’s a good boy, bad dreams don’t mean a thing. They say bad dreams prepare you for your worst fears; he read that somewhere.

An erection is stupidly obvious as he emerges into the hall. Morning wood, throbbing, he was almost there when the buzzer went.

There’s bodies moving in Riley’s room. Bodies, more than one. He hates when she has company over without telling him. There’s not much he can say about it, it’s her house as much as his.

He stoops low to hear, to peer in. He knows just where the best gaps between the frame are.

The door opens, he’s caught peeping.

“I heard a noise,” he says. It’s true. He tries to turn-stand so the boner isn’t so obvious and pointed right at her.

“This poor stray dog wandered in last night,” Riley says all saccharine, gestures to the boy behind her. Logan recognizes him, he's peculiar enough to remember. His name's January. He's on all fours and panting like a dog.

“I’m going to make a vet appointment for him. I have a civil duty!” Riley says. She's too confusing for him so early in the morning.

Logan leaves her to coo right at weird kid’s face like it's all whiskers and not a freckled leer. Bathroom door shuts and he wonders, to the tune of running water, if his sister was fucking that kid, and what's wrong with him. He seems some kind of retarded, emotionally disturbed or something. Definitely something.

He thinks of what they’d look like fucking. Would January be so dead-eyed? Was he a secret perv or did Riley take the reins? Does he act like a dog all the time…? Logan remembers January isn't always in character, he could be lucid, not 'normal' by any means but maybe not as delusional as he puts on. Maybe January and Riley have a real connection and Logan never noticed. It made him angry to think that January would act normal with Riley and then put on the pet act when Logan came around.

Oh, relief! -- mess and shrinking -- it's the anger that did it, the petty frustration that Riley would leave him out of another joke. Cum and piss whirl-pools away, flushing the tribute to his most offbeat thoughts. It's easiest to follow this pattern in the morning, to give in and forget all at once. It gets him out the door on time.