Stupid fucking eyes.
For a moment that seemed to go on for far too long, they stared at each other, two unrelenting gazes holding steady. Logan studied her with piercing scrutiny, but Kass couldn’t read the emotions on his face. His Adam’s apple bobbed, just slightly, and when he shifted his gaze from hers, Kass did the same. An unfamiliar rise of heat reached her neck, and she drew her bottom lip between her teeth to focus on something other than the fact that Logan smelled of soap and the faint odor of Menthol cigarettes, which just so happened to be more appealing than she would have liked.
When she was finally free, Logan pulled back slightly so she could sit up. She rubbed the indents in her wrist, trying to look everywhere but at him. Her whole body was stiff, and when she stood, her legs almost gave out. As she steadied herself on the nightstand near the bed, she felt Logan’s hand catch her elbow. For a fleeting, horrible second, Kass expected him to yank at her as Ryan would have, but his grip was so gentle she wasn’t sure he’d even touched her, and he drew back as quickly as he’d reached out. Kass straightened up, but she couldn’t look at him.
“Hurry up,” he said. “We have to go.”
Ignoring him, she went into the bathroom to compose herself. She ran the sink and splashed icy water on her face, fighting tears. She was in a mess she didn't know how to get away from. Logan had left her with no way out. Sure, she could run screaming, but she feared to test his motivation to use that shiny Glock in his bag. If she was lucky, she might just ride this out with him until he finished with her. Whether she’d be dead or alive, she had no idea.
Running her fingers through her tangled hair, Kass wiped the stained mascara from below her eyes and took a deep breath. She could only hope and pray that Ryan or Abby had reported her missing—someone had to be looking for her, right? No one just disappeared, especially not her. It had been years since she'd been out of Seattle, and even longer since she'd been out of state. And now, here she was, kidnapped by some psychopath with a gun and a hidden agenda, and she had no idea where to go from here.
“Now, Kass,” Logan called through the door.
She rolled her sleeves back down, hiding the jagged cuts up and down her skin, and then zipped her jacket up to avoid seeing the bruise. As she turned to open the door, her eye caught sight of a jagged piece of crumbling ceramic near the corner of the bathtub where the tub was crumbling against the wall. Glancing just briefly over her shoulder, she grabbed for the sharp piece and shoved it into her pocket before turning back around to open the door.
Logan stood there in front of her, backpack flung over one shoulder and his free hand stuffed into the pocket of his Levi's. Despite the situation she was in, and the power Logan held over her, he looked so—ordinary. Childish, even, like a high school kid waiting for his prom date. His black hair was almost falling into his eyes, and she saw the blackened circles beneath his lids, like he hadn’t slept in weeks. But beyond all that, beyond his innocent facade, she still noticed that the gun was nowhere to be seen, probably stuffed back into the pack, and that didn't ease her anxiety. She couldn't let her fear show though. She refused to. The most frightening person to Kass had always been herself.
Not even Logan could change that.
“Give a girl a break,” she snapped.
“Save it.” He grabbed hold of her upper arm and squeezed as he pulled her out the front door and towards the car. She stumbled twice and caught herself, wondering if she could stall him just long enough to come up with another plan of escape. She wouldn't let herself fight him. Fighting him now could prove dangerous for her if she wasn’t prepared. Keeping her head would be the only logical thing she could do right now. And short of trying to beat him up with one free arm, she was screwed until she had a better plan.
“Be nice, please.” She yelped as his fingers dug into the gashes hidden under her sweatshirt. She thought of the sharp ceramic in her pocket, but knew at once that it would be too small to do any real damage to him. “I'm still doing what you want. No need to be vicious about it.”
Although he didn’t respond, his grip on her arm loosened. He pushed her into the driver's seat of the car and crossed around the front to slide in next to her. Before he did so, however, he grabbed the gun from the pack. He handed her the keys and Kass turned on the car, blasting the heat. It had snowed more during the night, coating the parking lot in a layer of white. Had the situation been different, she would have enjoyed the beauty of the season’s first snow. The smells in the air during winter were her favorite, they always had been. The spicy scent of a pine tree, hot cider that burned her tongue, the bitter kick on the air, and even the cold that singed her nose hairs and made her toes and fingers ache. The holiday season was always something to celebrate. But now, only the soft scent of exhaust pouring from the tailpipe gave her any welcome to the early season.
“Don’t you know how to drive?” she asked, but he said nothing. Sighing, Kass backed out of the parking lot. “Okay then. Have you figured out where we're going yet?”
“I know exactly where we’re going,” he said. “But it’s nothing you need to worry about, so just drive.” After a moment, he added, “Please.”
Kass did as he said, heading again in the opposite direction of home. All she knew was that they were approaching the Oregon border. If she remembered her high school geography right, the freeway they were on would take them briefly through Utah and then Nevada. What was in Nevada? What was Logan after? She hated not knowing.
The unknown was scarier than anything.
A heavy silence settled over the car. Logan seemed deep in thought as he stared out the window. His leg was shaking again, finger strumming an imaginary air guitar.
Trying to ignore it, Kass got lost in her own petty thoughts. She thought of Ryan, wondered if he had any idea—or even cared—where she was. Well, of course he did. She had his vehicle. She felt she would give anything to go back to their fight, to keep her mouth shut for once instead of pushing and pushing and pushing.
You were supposed to be breaking up with him, an inner-ear voice said softly, and Kass cringed. Yeah, she was supposed to break up with him for the umpteenth time, and she still couldn’t seem find the balls to do it. She hated herself for wanting to be back home in his arms.
Is this really worse than home, Kass? That voice came again. Is Logan really that much worse than Ryan? Someone worth your love wouldn’t hurt you no matter how much you pushed.
“That's a nice rock.”
The silence drowning the car shattered when Logan spoke. Kass started, unprepared for the interruption of her thoughts. She didn't look over at him and instead continued to stare straight ahead. She couldn't help it, though, when she found her gaze shifting to the engagement ring on her finger. It glistened, mocking her. Such a beautiful, expensive ring, fit for a queen.
She dropped her left hand from the wheel and into her lap, feeling oddly self-conscious.
“Let me guess,” Logan continued, and she groaned aloud. The last thing she wanted today was the sound of his stupid voice and snarky, sarcastic tone in her ear. But he seemed nonchalant as he leaned back in the seat. His feet were propped up on the dashboard, and Kass noticed then that they were heavy, black boots. No bullshit boots. She made a mental note to buy some of those boots when she got home. Maybe they had them in brown. “You’re married and happy and ready to start a family back in the tiny town of Lakewood.”
Making small talk with the man next to her was not on the agenda, so she kept her mouth closed, fearing she would say something stupid enough to set him off. Instead, she tightened the grip on the wheel unintentionally, as if trying to squeeze the life from it. She imagined wrapping her fingers around Logan's neck, and it made her feel better, even if just for a moment.
“I bet he’s a tool,” Logan continued. “Not that I’ve met him or anything, I just get the feeling he's the kind of guy you'd find walking down the street with a ‘Blow Me’ sign strapped to his dick.”
Th
ere was nothing funny about this moment, yet Kass had an overwhelming urge to laugh. This man—this stranger—had fucking nailed it.
“Shut up, Logan.”
“Is that his handiwork on your chest, too?” Logan asked, and this caught Kass off guard. She froze, swallowing, a short frame of that night flicking through her memory.
“Is there a reason you're talking to me?” she asked steadily. She hadn't meant to respond, but she had no intention of becoming friendly with the asshole who had abducted her.
“I take that as a yes,” Logan said. From the corner of her eye, she noticed him look away, clear his throat, and then look back at her. “Why do you stay with someone like that?”
Had the question come from anybody else on the face of the planet, Kass wouldn’t have had the overwhelming urge to punch Logan in the face and break his nose. She’d spent the night tied to a bedpost with a gun near her feet, and Logan was asking why she stayed with a man like Ryan.
“You’re one to talk,” she said. Her voice was quiet; she hadn’t realized she’d even spoken.
Logan stared at her, his eyes steady on her face. He seemed to think hard about something, though she had no idea what. His finger was still strumming subconsciously.
“You know, my sister always thought she’d marry a sugar daddy,” he said. “Someone who would lavish her with gifts and take her on exotic trips.” He grinned and flipped a lock of black hair out of his eyes in such a way that a single butterfly fluttered in Kass’ stomach. “She never realized that the man she described repeatedly was almost identical to our father.”
Kass tensed up, sweat forming on the palms of her hands. She knew what was coming next, and she dreaded it. She’d felt so good last night, egging him on, calling him out, but now the tables had turned, and Logan was ready to drag her through the mud.
“I heard somewhere that women and men tend to search for mates who remind them of their parents. Subconsciously, of course,” Logan said. “Something about the attachment theory; I learned about it in college. You seem like a pretty smart girl to me, Kass, and tough. Very tough.” He was quiet again, but his eyes were still searching her face. “He’s a security blanket, isn’t he? A man like your father, a man you’re comfortable with because it’s what you’re used to. Did your dad hurt you, too?”
Bile rose in her throat, tears threatening to spill. She didn’t realize she’d been chewing so viciously on her lip until she tasted metallic blood on her tongue. She wiped the back of her hand over her mouth and focused on the road so she wouldn’t lose it.
“Do us both a favor and shut the fuck up.” She didn’t care if she angered him, she didn’t care if he wanted to kill her and run, she’d be better off dead than she would be stuck in a vehicle with this douchebag for too much longer.
“Yes, Captain,” Logan said. Something in his tone had switched, and he sounded different now, back to hiding whatever secret he had buried. For a moment, he’d almost sounded reasonable, like a real person with real feelings. If she weren't mistaken, he’d almost sounded sorry for her.
And she fucking hated him for that.
“You won’t think you’re so cute when I put my fist through your face,” Kass said. She’d never hit another human in her entire life, but Logan didn’t need to know that.
“Well look at you, all sassy and shit.” He leaned towards her, and Kass pulled away from him impulsively. Logan stopped when she did so. He didn’t touch her. “Tell me what you’re afraid of.”
Kass cleared her throat, struggling to control herself. Most of the fear she had formerly held for him was gone, and with every moment that passed, her fear turned into anger. He was manipulating her, trying to terrify her. And even if he thought it was working—which it was, to an extent—she couldn't let him know that. Fear would be her biggest weakness around a man like him.
“I'm afraid of you, Logan,” Kass said finally. It wasn't a total lie—he was dangerous, but she'd seen scarier. She'd known scarier. Fuck, she was engaged to scarier. She swallowed once and took a calming breath. “I am afraid of you.”
“You shouldn’t be.” Logan’s tone was steady when he said this, confident, but before he turned away Kass saw a flutter of pain cross his face, as if the words had been difficult to say.
It wasn’t the answer she’d expected. Kass waited for him to go on, but instead, he leaned back in the seat, taking the gun with him.
“In the next town, we can stop for food.”
Kass's stomach grumbled thinking about lunch, and she realized she hadn't eaten since the party. “Are you paying?” What a ridiculous conversation this was, like having a debate with your best friend or lover over where to eat for the hundredth time. She cleared her throat, mind racing again. “Where do you want to eat?”
“I don't care. Just pick somewhere,” Logan said. He closed his eyes, wearied, muscles twitching like someone was running their fingers over him. Guiltily, Kass once again noticed the fine shape of his chin, how the muscles in his jaw flexed when he was stressed. As soon as the thought was there, she pushed it away, hating herself for even allowing it to enter her mind. What was she doing?
She took the next exit ten miles up the freeway, pulling into a friendly-looking diner near a truck stop. Logan tucked the gun into the pouch of his sweatshirt and got out, slamming the door behind him. She was about to follow when she realized something: he'd forgotten to take the keys.
A fleeting moment of terror mixed with an overwhelming urge to escape slammed her in the gut. She reached for the keys in the ignition, her eyes on Logan as he walked around the car, not realizing his mistake. Her body froze, and she realized she only had time to complete one action—lock the doors or turn on the car.
Panicking, she turned on the engine. It took a moment for Logan to register what was happening. Their eyes met, and Kass slammed the SUV into reverse, but she was a second too late.
Time seemed to slow down as Logan lunged for the unlocked door and yanked it open, grabbing her painfully by her scarred and bruised arm. She gasped, her foot slipping from the pedal. With his free arm, Logan wrapped it around her midsection and yanked, dislodging her from the seat. When she was free from the car, he released her, and Kass hit the graveled driveway beneath her feet, landing with a painful oomph as the ground sliced into her knees and palms. Behind her, Logan leaned into the car, slammed it into park, and yanked the keys from the ignition.
“You're good,” he said to Kass, hovering over her. Fire glowed in his eyes as he stared her down, but as she tried to pick herself up off the ground, a tiny glint of concern replaced the anger. Logan's hand extended, just a fraction of an inch before he pulled it back in, and the concern in his eyes was gone just as quickly as it had been there.
Kass brushed it off. Had she escaped just then, he’d be fucked. That's where his concern had lain—not for her.
Logan was breathing heavy now, trying to catch his breath and compose himself.
“I figured I'd give it a try.” Swallowing tears, Kass wiped away the tiny pebbles embedded in her skin. Small droplets of blood from the scratches on her hand formed, and she wiped her palms on her pants, ignoring the sting. She looked around, wondering—praying--that someone would have seen the incident and called the cops. Unfortunately, no one seemed to look in their direction. She pressed her fingers against her palms, digging fingernails into the tiny cuts on her hand to bring her back to reality and to keep from doing something stupid, like forcing Logan to shoot up the whole restaurant. She could think of a better plan than outing him in public. She could do it quietly, and keep people safe.
Logan dropped the keys into his pocket, eyes still flashing black. Trying to breathe through the pain in her legs and hands, she followed him through the doors of the diner, plastering a smile on her face. A perky, large-busted woman with a mop of blond hair loudly smacking gum greeted them at the door.
The server gave Logan a once-over, her eyes trailing from the coal-black hair falling into his eyes, ove
r the chiseled shoulders and chest, and down to—ahem—before she glanced briefly at Kass, and then grabbed two menus. Kass had the surprising urge to say something rude, but she bit her tongue. What other people (okay, other women) thought of Logan was none of her business.
It wasn’t them he was holding hostage.
“Just the two of you?” the server asked. She had a thick Southern accent that sounded out of place in Oregon.
“Can we get a booth?” Logan asked. He stepped up beside Kass, one hand touching, just barely, the small of her back.
“Of course,” she said. “Follow me.” She led them to a private table in the corner, setting menus down for them. Logan scooped them up and handed them back to her.
“We'll have two burgers and fries,” he said.
Kass glared at him, annoyed, but even then, a burger and fries sounded just fine. She was starving.
“Anything to drink?”
“Just water,” Logan said.
“A Coke for me,” Kass cut in, and she ignored Logan as he slumped his shoulders and rolled his eyes. The waitress delivered their drinks, and she took a long sip, trying to ease the raw and scratchy feeling in her throat. She reached for a napkin and pressed it against the palm of her hands, wincing. As she dabbed at the drying blood, Logan reach over for a fresh napkin. He dipped the tip into his ice water, squeezed the excess out, and held his hand out to her.
“Come on.”
For a moment, Kass only stared at him, wondering what he was up to now. He said nothing else, just waited patiently. After debating for a moment, she reached out her hand to his. Logan took it gently, her palm up in his own as he dabbed dried blood with the moist napkin.
“You're lucky this place is a fucking ghost town,” Logan said as he dabbed. “I don't think anyone saw your stupid stunt.”
“I wouldn't want you to worry about that.” She glared at him, wishing she could cause him the same pain he'd been throwing at her since they'd been together. But considering the situation she was in, she was confident that tossing bitter hate around wouldn't get her free of him any more quickly. She needed to think, not get pissed off.
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