Capture Me

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Capture Me Page 4

by Amber Thielman


  Chapter Five

  It wasn’t Logan's intention to pull the gun on Kass. He hadn't meant to do it. He hadn't wanted to do it. He had no beef with her, with this stranger in the driver's seat next to him. She seemed nice—a little uptight, but pleasant enough. He'd been about to get out of the car and be on his way when she'd pointed out the flashing lights in front of them.

  Time had stopped then, and a chill that froze the very blood in his veins traveled down his spine. If he got out of the car, it was the end of the game for him. It would be the end before it even started. There was no avoiding it.

  Logan knew that by now his parole officer had reported his violation, and there was a chance that Seattle police had alerted their neighboring law enforcement. Logan knew the system; they were quick when they wanted to be.

  But he couldn't get caught. Not now. Not when he was already two steps ahead. It wasn’t much, but it was more than he’d ever expected he’d get. He was off the radar, at least temporarily, and that’s all he needed for now to get where he was going. He’d figure out the rest later.

  Whatever had to happen next, Logan didn’t know. It was good to have a car; it got him where he needed to be much faster than walking through the rain. But what could he do? Kick the driver out and steal the SUV? Threaten her? Beg her to help him? He didn’t want to do those things, and yet he couldn’t just duck his head and hide from her. He’d pulled a gun on this woman, and now shit was about to go down in the worst way possible. Would she fight? Run? Scream?

  Logan had just jumped in head first, and there was no telling how well either of them could swim.

  He glanced at Kass from the corner of his eye, trying to read her expression. Her long brown hair fell around her shoulders, framing her cheeks. She sat stiff, hands still on the wheel, nostrils flaring like an animal trying to decide whether to fight or take off. She wouldn’t look at him, but her expression was emotionless. He tried to read her face, tried to figure out what she was capable of, but he couldn’t even get a sense. She had to be frightened, and he couldn’t blame her if she were.

  He was a little afraid of himself right now.

  Blood roared in Kass’s ears, deafening, and stars of panic danced in her vision. Kass didn’t think she could move even if she wanted to. She stayed still, frightened to even breathe for fear of setting him off. The surrounding darkness was suddenly stifling, and she struggled to keep her breathing even.

  “Put the car in drive,” Logan said. “And get us out of here.”

  The playful tone he’d had only minutes ago was now icy cold and serious. Dead serious. He wasn’t bullshitting her, but Kass hesitated anyway. Those cops were her last resort. If she drove away now, there was no saying what this madman would do to her. She had nothing on her for defense. No gun. No knife. No pepper spray. She was at his mercy.

  “Kass,” Logan said. “Let’s go.”

  There was something in his tone she couldn’t decipher; fear or apprehensive desperation, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Regardless of his true feelings, it didn’t soothe her nerves, because he still had a weapon.

  “Where to?” Dizzy with fear, she rested her foot on the brake and put the SUV into drive. She hoped, by some miracle, that the cops would spot her sitting there and come to investigate. A part of Kass wished Logan would just take the car and leave her there. A vehicle was replaceable. She was not.

  “Just drive,” he said. “Get on I-90 and head east, out of town.”

  She put the SUV into gear, easing past the flashing lights of the police cars. The Sheriff recognized her, and he raised his hand in a friendly wave. Kass wanted to scream for him, to jump out of the moving car and into his arms, but she feared for her safety and the safety of the other officers. If things went wrong, she could be hurt or killed and so could they. She didn't know what this person was capable of, and she didn’t want to find out.

  “Keep going,” Logan said. There was a slight warning in his tone now, an unspoken authority that told Kass if she tried anything, she’d regret it.

  As the safety of the police faded behind them, a lump of terror rose in Kass’s throat; painful and insistent, threatening a breakdown. She kept her eyes on the road because she feared to look at him. As she pressed the gas and sped up, Logan said, “Give me your phone.”

  “I don’t have a—”

  “Don’t fucking lie to me.”

  Kass’s mouth snapped shut, and she shifted to the side to pull the small cell from her back pocket. She fingered it before giving it to him, fingers shaking as she handed over her last lifeline.

  “Thanks,” Logan took the battery out of the phone and tossed the contents into his bag before zipping it up again. Kass flinched and looked away, focusing on the dark road in front of them, trying to keep her composure. All she could hear now was the pounding of her heart in her head.

  “I'll take you wherever you want,” she said. “This doesn’t have to get violent.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” Logan said. He looked at her, but she found she still couldn’t meet his gaze. She felt betrayed strangely, a sensation she couldn’t quite justify as being normal. Minutes ago, they’d been chatting, smiling, but he was no longer a man she liked. He’d just kidnapped her, and now he was a criminal, probably a dangerous one.

  “Logan—” she started. She might reason with him, talk him down, convince him that whatever or whoever he was running from wasn’t worth taking a hostage.

  “Don't talk. Just drive. Let me think.” Logan rubbed a calloused hand over his face. The muscles in his jaw twitching and flexing, Adam’s apple bobbing. His leg shook again as he ran a hand through his hair. Nervous twitches, she knew they were.

  “How far?”

  “Until I say stop.”

  For two hours, they drove in silence, a silence that smothered Kass, gripped her in fear and terror. She felt cocooned inside this nightmare, stuck in a spider’s web, paralyzed, waiting for the predator to pounce. Her eyes hurt from fatigue, her butt and back sore from sitting. She wanted to be home, in her bed, under the covers. She wanted Ryan’s strong arms around her, holding her close, kissing her neck. He would apologize right now for losing his patience with her. He’d kiss the bruise on her chest and nuzzle his lips against her neck. And despite how angry she was with him, despite her intention to end things with him, that’s what Kass wanted more than anything in the world. The lesser of two evils.

  “Get onto I-90,” Logan said, breaking the silence. Kass merged the SUV towards Spokane, hands and fingers tingling with apprehension.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Please be quiet so I can think.”

  Kass averted her eyes back to the road. She wanted him to speak, to say something—anything—but he didn’t. She knew if she could get him to talk, she could knock sense into him. She was a good talker in high-stress situations, perks of being in Emergency Medicine. She’d once calmed a pregnant woman out of a severe panic attack and even talked a young man off the edge of a fifteen-story building.

  She could do this.

  Maybe.

  Cities passed them, and then towns, and after another hour, Kass no longer recognized the desolate area around them. They were a reasonable distance from home now, and the further they traveled, the more frightened she became.

  “Take I-82 coming up,” Logan said. “And stay on the interstate. Don’t slow down.”

  For a mere second, Kass considered slamming on the brakes and bailing, but she didn’t want to underestimate Logan. Was it worth dying for? No. Not yet anyway. She had to come up with a plan, a rational plan that would get her out alive. She knew better than to act on compulsion; that’s how people died. Panic.

  “I know you don't want me to talk.” From the corner of her eye, Kass was careful to keep her gaze on the gun sitting in Logan’s lap.

  “So, don’t,” Logan said.

  “I need to know where we're going, and why.”

  For a long, painful mo
ment, the stranger in the seat next to her said nothing. He stared at the road in front of them, silent. Kass wished she could read what he was thinking because if she knew what was going through his mind, she could use that to her advantage. But if Kass felt her poker face was any good, Logan’s was better.

  “This is just a freak inconvenience,” he said. “I didn't pick you, Kass. I didn't choose you. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  Kass’s palms ached as her hands tightened on the steering wheel in bottled rage. She was not a violent person, rarely confrontational unless provoked, but she wanted nothing more at that moment than to put her fist into Logan’s face. All her anger, rage, distrust… she wanted to fucking kill him.

  “You derailed my entire life because of a freak inconvenience?”

  “I don’t know what to tell you other than I’m sorry for all of this.”

  “If you were sorry you’d let me go.”

  “I need the car.”

  “So, take it. But don’t kill me.”

  “Spare me the melodrama,” Logan said. After a beat of silence, he added, “You should be grateful. What is it back in Lakewood that has you so desperate to get home, a wife beater?”

  Never in her life had Kass felt so humiliated, hurt, and angered by a total stranger. Another lump rose in her throat, and for a second she didn’t know whether to scream at him or cry. She didn’t realize she’d been grinding her teeth until her jaw creaked with pain.

  “Don’t think for a second you know anything about me or my life,” she said steadily. This time, when Logan looked at her, she stared straight back. She saw the muscles in his jaw twitch, noticed the way his thumb moved like he was playing an air guitar. His blue eyes seemed darker somehow, burying a secret he refused to give up. His fingers moved from his leg and to his face where he scratched at the stubble on his chin. He was always fidgeting, always moving. It seemed exhausting.

  “Let’s play the quiet game,” he said. “Whoever talks first loses.”

  They drove in silence for another couple of hours, and Logan didn't waver even once. He stared transfixed out the window, unblinking. His leg never stopped shaking.

  Exhaustion overtook Kass. The lack of sleep and the few drinks she'd had earlier were messing with her. Her arms throbbed where the fresh cuts were, and the bruise on her chest seemed to burn straight through her clothing. It was three-thirty in the morning when the gas light on Ryan's SUV flickered on.

  “We're almost out of gas.” Her voice felt raw and scratchy, the lump in her throat still heavy with its presence. Logan took a moment to respond, and she had a passing thought this would be his chance to shoot her and run. They couldn't stop, could they? But what if they did? She had a credit card. Credit cards could be tracked, right?

  “Find the nearest gas station,” Logan said. “And fill it up. Do you have a card?”

  “No.”

  There was silence and then, “Are you lying?”

  “No.”

  “If I shot you and left your body in the woods, I wouldn't find a card in your wallet?” He was egging her on, manipulating her. Kass took a deep breath, but her hands trembled. Logan held out his hand. “Give it to me,” he said. “I have cash. Use that.”

  Logan fingered the gun in his lap, his expression unreadable. Kass shifted in the seat, reaching into her pocket to pull out the debit card she carried and handed it to him. Dread tugged at her insides. She wanted to puke.

  “You want me to go in?” She swallowed her anticipation, realizing this might be her chance to escape this madman before he tired of their small talk and just killed her.

  “Yeah,” said Logan. He fingered the gun in his lap. “Just know I'll be right outside the door, and if you do anything stupid, I will kill you and every person in my sight. Understood?”

  There was nothing more she could say. To Kass's dismay, the closest gas station was a rural one. She knew they had to have been a few hundred miles outside Seattle by now, and she hadn't seen an actual city for miles.

  “I get it,” she muttered.

  “Remember,” Logan said as she put on her blinker and pulled off the exit. “One wrong move and someone else's blood will be all over your hands.”

  Kass pulled Ryan's SUV up to the gas pump and turned off the engine. It was four in the morning, and the lot was empty. Dark, desolate. Lonely.

  Inside the station, an older Korean man was sitting behind the counter reading a magazine. The overwhelming urge to throw up all over Logan and the car tugged at her throat as he dug into his pocket and threw a wad of cash at her. She pushed the driver’s door open, wondering if she should start running and screaming. Would she make it? Probably not. She knew she'd be dead before she reached the door, and it wasn’t exactly how she wanted to end tonight. If it were dead or alive, she’d vouch for alive.

  “Don't forget.” He grabbed her jacket sleeve to hold her back. His face was near hers, eyes trailing her face, searching for any sign of doubt she may have had. “No funny business.”

  Kass pulled her arm away, fighting for her self-control.

  Don’t panic.

  She nodded, just once, and stepped out of the vehicle.

  “No funny business,” she said.

  Chapter Six

  Logan watched her walk towards the door, head down as hair fell over her face in light brown tendrils. Her expression showed no emotion—no fear or anger or hostility. It was blank. He hated that.

  Never did Logan imagine a situation like this arising, and yet here he was: a criminal on the run with a hostage in the seat next to him.

  Shit.

  He closed his eyes, panic crawling up his throat, threatening to bubble over. He had no idea what to do now. His original intention had been to get to Vegas, but now that he had this girl in the seat next to him, what could he do? He'd dug himself into this hole, and he was burying himself. Every moment he kept Kass with him was another moment lost; another opportunity flushed down the toilet. It was no longer all about him. Now there were two.

  Logan fingered the gun in his lap with his thumb, the cold steel chilling him. Kass had a car. Dear Lord, yes, she had a car. His feet were killing him, his clothes still damp from the rain earlier. He was miserable, tired, and grouchy. And he knew, despite his efforts to run, that he was fucked six ways from Sunday.

  He couldn’t waver from his plan to get to Laurel. Not now. He was going against everything good in his life to take this one chance, and if he fucked it up now, it would be over. Everything would be over. He was putting his life and future at stake for this one chance to make things right, and the complications had just tripled.

  Logan had considered multiple times just dropping Kass off on the side of the road and taking the vehicle, but that was too risky. All it would take was a few minutes before somebody with a cell phone would stop to help her, and she’d call the police. If he were to would get rid of Kass, it had to be at the right moment in the right place; far enough away from people that Logan could get ahead before she could report him.

  Logan kept his eyes on the woman as she pushed her way through the front doors of the gas station, making her way up to the front counter. Fear crept up, an odd sensation of doubt prickling up and down his back. Would she panic? Run? Scream? Maybe she would be stupid enough to risk her life and the life of a stranger. But he didn't know. He didn't know her, not even a little. She was a woman who had made the mistake of offering him a ride, and now she would have to deal with the consequences.

  A figure passed next to the car window as a father and daughter walked hand-in-hand towards the faded brick walls of the gas station. The girl was young, a little older than seven. The man stopped near the car as the girl's shoe came untied, and he knelt in the parking lot to lace it up again. Kass's gaze flickered instantly to the innocent people in the lot, and from where Logan sat, he saw her eyes flash a moment of fear. Fear for herself, but probably more concern for them.

  Logan rested his eyes on Kass, an
d she held his gaze through the window. Her complexion had paled; she was trying to gauge her chances of getting help. There was only one of him and lots of them—would she dare consider it?

  Kass’s lips move as she approached the counter, pulling the crumpled bills from the pocket of her hooded sweatshirt. She smiled at the attendant—a forced smile, he could tell—and the old man smiled back politely. For a brief, fleeting second, Kass let her eyes wander back to the parking lot, towards the man and his kid, and Logan raised the gun to the window. The glint of the steel caught her eye, and she turned away.

  The guy and his kid went ahead to the gas station, narrowly avoiding Kass on her way out. Head down and hands deep in her pockets, she made her way back to the SUV. Logan grabbed the keys and got out of the car to pump the gas, pulling his hood up to cover his face. He was in the clear for now, hopefully. He didn't know how fast the news had spread about his whereabouts, but he refused to take the chance.

  “Magnificent, Kass,” he said. “You did well.”

  She said nothing, only tossed the change at him as she rounded the car and slid into the driver’s seat, slamming the door hard behind her. The coins hit the ground and clattered aimlessly onto the pavement. An older woman who had just pulled up to another pump frowned at them, and Logan smiled.

  “It’s that time of the month, I suppose,” he said.

  Around him, tiny flakes of white fell, frosting the ground. Logan looked up at the sky of black, allowing the frozen flakes to settle on his skin. The cold was starting early.

  “Beautiful weather we have tonight,” he called to Kass through the window. He knew she'd heard him, but she didn't look at him. Her arms laid folded across her chest, sulking, eyes straight ahead, jaw set in a hard line. Briefly, he remembered the bruise on her chest, the big one, ill-colored and nasty looking. If he had to guess, he knew all-too-well the story behind that bruise. The handiwork of a man. A coward.

  Emotions overtook him then, feelings he couldn’t quite place, ones he knew were severely inappropriate given their situation. He wanted to tell her she deserved better—hell, anyone deserved better—than to be with someone like that. But he couldn’t because he was the villain now. He was a hypocrite if he let himself think like that. He’d taken her hostage at gunpoint, after all. He won douche bag of the year award.

 

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