“I do worry about it, Kass, because you’re going to fuck this up for me.” Logan drew the napkin away to re-wet it, but before he could, Kass yanked her arm away as the server reappeared at their table. She caught a whiff of the hamburger as it was sat down in front of her, and her stomach rumbled. She took a drink of her Coke and watched Logan from across the table. He was putting together his burger; lettuce, pickles, onions, and then ketchup and mustard. As he did this, careful not to lose any of his toppings, he squirted ranch onto his plate and dipped the burger in that.
“Gross,” Kass said. She picked up a French fry, savoring the heat and salty taste it left behind.
“What’s gross?” With his free hand, Logan brushed a strand of black hair out of his eyes, staring at her.
“Ranch is gross,” she said.
“Ranch is delicious.
“No. Fry sauce is delicious.” She reached for the little cup of mayonnaise, grabbed the ketchup bottle, and mixed the two. Logan watched her do this, not saying much as she dipped a fry into the cup and ate it. “Perfect.”
When he didn’t answer, she slid the cup of fry sauce over to him without a word. For a second he ignored it, but then he dipped one fry in and popped it in his mouth.
“Meh,” he said, but reached for another fry to dip. Try as she might to continue to hate him, Kass had to fight to hide a triumphant smile.
“Where are we going now?” she asked.
Logan didn’t answer, and she didn’t have the energy to push it. As she ate her burger, she wondered what would happen if someone recognized her, Logan, or even Ryan's car, which was technically stolen. Would the police come? Would she get away? Better yet, would she get away without being killed or injured? Would someone else get killed? Was Logan even capable of killing someone?
“I swear to God; you're the slowest person I've ever met,” Logan said.
Kass glanced down at her plate, realizing she'd only eaten a few fries and two bites of her burger. “I like to taste my food, not inhale it.”
He stared at her over the rim of the water glass, silent. His eyes were vivid and bright today, reading her, scanning the lines on her face. His bangs kept falling into his eyes, and every time Logan reached up to swipe them out of the way, Kass had the uncomfortable urge to reach over and do it herself.
“I don't know if I can tolerate you much longer,” he said.
“You brought this on yourself. What the hell did you expect?”
Logan said nothing, only continued to scowl. As soon as Kass popped the last French fry into her mouth, she wiped her fingers and looked at Logan.
“I have to pee,” she said, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the table. She wasn't sure what sick satisfaction she got out of annoying him, but she did.
“We were just at the motel. Why didn't you pee then?”
“I didn't have to go then,” she said. “I have to go now.”
“Seriously?”
“Um. Seriously, Logan,” Kass said.
He rolled his eyes and stood up, looking less than thrilled, but she knew he couldn't make a scene in public.
“I know where the bathroom is,” Kass said. “I’ve also been potty trained. I can do it myself.”
“After that circus act you pulled in the car? I don't think so. Come on.” He took her arm, more gently this time, she noticed, and led her down the aisle of tables and chairs.
“What are you doing?” They stopped in front of the restroom door.
Logan dropped her arm and started forward, ignoring her protests.
“That's the ladies room.” She watched wide-eyed as he stepped into the bathroom, making it a point to check every empty stall as he did so.
“I can't take my chances,” he said. “Not after what you did outside.”
“I thought we were past your insecurities,” said Kass. “Insecurities are the gateway to a terrible relationship, Logan. Everybody knows that.”
He stared at her, looking anything but amused. “Can you just pee now?”
“Fine. Shut the door.”
“Five minutes,” he said. “And don’t fucking lock it. I’ll check.”
As he closed the door behind him on his way out, Kass finally allowed herself to breathe. In front of him, she would keep her guard up. No breaking down. No crying. No being the victim. But when she was alone, she could feel her confidence crumble, and she saw the pain and hurt in her own eyes when she looked at herself in the mirror. She had to stay strong; she had to keep that wall up and never allow him to break it down. It was her only chance at getting out alive.
Under the jacket, she felt smothered and hot, like she'd been lying under the sun in a winter coat for too long. She unzipped the jacket and took it off for a moment to cool down, then peeled off her skimpy tank top as a heat flash came over her. She stared at herself in the mirror, in only jeans and her bra now, and she couldn't bring herself to look away from the jagged red scars up and down both arms. Old scars and fresh scars. Long and short—some dreadfully deep and others only cosmetic; scars toting the burden of pain and hurt and betrayal and jealousy. Her oldest scar marked at the tender age of thirteen—her newest one from the night of the party.
The bruises on her arms from where Ryan had once upon a time grabbed her in drunken anger were fading, but the nasty one on her chest boasted a dark purple and blue color. When she thought of Ryan this time, she was angry. Angry at him, per usual, but even more angry at herself. There was something wrong with her, something that haunted her very core every day she stayed with a man like Ryan. Because, God, she loved him.
And she hated him. She fucking hated him with so much passion it frightened her sometimes. And more than she hated what Ryan did to her, she hated what she let Ryan do to her even more.
Running the water in the sink on cold, Kass splashed her face and rubbed the coolness on her chest, trying to get a grip. Fuck Ryan, he couldn’t help her now. So, what were her options? She could lock herself in the bathroom and hope that someone besides Logan would come to her rescue. She could try to sneak past him and out the door, but he was too smart for that. She doubted he was far from where stood at that very moment.
Kass pulled her tangled, wavy hair away from her face and into a messy bun, allowing the air to cool down the back of her neck. She leaned down to splash her face once more when the soap dispenser caught her eye. She looked rapidly back at the door, expecting Logan to be standing there, but she was still alone.
Frantically, Kass pumped a few quirts of soap into her hands and rubbed them together, lathering it up. She looked once more towards the door then stood on her toes to scrawl words onto the mirror.
Kassidy Harding
Kidnapped in White SUV
Call Police!!!
She cranked on the sink to wash her hands before reaching for her jacket to put it back on. She was about to slip out when there was a rap on the door. She froze, a deer in headlights.
“There's someone in here!” she shouted. “I'm not dre—” She stopped, horrified, as the knob turned and the door opened. Ignoring her protests, Logan stepped in, shutting it behind him. Shame and embarrassment tugged at Kass as she struggled to cover the upper half of her body, defenseless under Logan's sharp gaze.
“Did you get lost?”
“Fuck you.” Skin on fire, Kass saw Logan’s eyes travel up and down the uncovered part of her body. He said nothing more, but his expression was neutral, difficult to read. She yanked her jacket on and fumbled with the zipper in anger, flustered and hot with discomfort. Her hands were shaking with rage, itching to bash his nose in.
“You're an asshole,” she said.
Logan looked unruffled, as though he hadn't just caught her standing half-naked in the bathroom. She walked towards him to hurry them out, but it was too late. He caught glimpse of the message written on the mirror and froze, his eyes flicking back to Kass. Before she could say anything, he rushed forward, shoving past her for a handful of paper towels that he used to scrub
the soap from the mirror. He was mumbling under his breath, but Kass could only make out the words idiot and fuckitall.
Saying nothing, Logan grabbed hold of Kass and dragged her towards the door as she struggled to get her sweatshirt done up. His hand dropped from her upper arm to her lower one in front of people, but the grip on his arm was seething with fury. They passed their table and Logan dropped some crumpled bills onto their check.
Kass watched the faces of strangers’ pass as they walked out of the restaurant. They were all so naïve to the situation, absorbed so heavily in their own lives they wouldn't have a clue.
“We can only drive for so long, you know,” Kass said. Logan threw the keys to her and slid into the passenger's seat of the car, and Kass followed. “Eventually every road ends. You can't run forever.” She cleared her throat, thinking of the scars engraved in her skin.
Trust me; I've tried.
“Watch me,” Logan said.
With a sigh, she lowered herself back into Ryan's car and turned on the engine. Somewhere behind them, hundreds and hundreds of miles out of reach, her home faded farther and farther into the distance.
Chapter Eight
They drove well into the night, but Logan never allowed himself to drift off to sleep. He’d been under the naïve impression that his hold on Kass had been tight, but her stunt at the restaurant had proven him wrong. She was a fighter, but she was subtle. That was dangerous for him. He didn't like sneaky. Sneaky was bad. She was not only sneaky, but she was deceiving. That was even worse.
Kass was not a large girl; she was short and thin, but he did not doubt that if she got fired up enough to punch him, she could probably break his nose. He'd never met a woman like her before. He had never met a woman with her biting wit and sharp tongue. She challenged him, but even more, she compelled him.
Also, she made him want to shoot himself in the foot.
“Umatilla, Oregon,” Kass read aloud. “We live in the next state over, and I've never even been to Oregon. It's—nice. Well, kind of.”
“It’s flatland,” Logan said. “And it’s ugly as all shit.” He rubbed his face, fatigue grasping at him.
“Are we stopping?”
In the dark of the car, the light from the moon shone down on Kass’s face, highlighting her features in the dim light. Logan saw the freckles dotted on her skin, the ones that made her look almost childlike in the blackness around them. There were dark bags under her eyes, and guilt washed over him. If he were tired, she sure as hell would be, too. Her lips were dry and slightly cracked, but something about the way she chewed thoughtfully on the bottom one made Logan want to lean over and kiss her, just to see what she’d do.
Send him straight to hell, probably.
“I guess.”
“Are you going to tie me up again?”
“Yes.”
“You're an asshole,” Kass said, and Logan smiled despite himself.
“That's what they say.”
Silence settled over the car, and Logan forced himself to look away from Kass and focus on the unwinding road instead. After a few minutes, she spoke again.
“What did you do?”
He looked back at her, but she wasn’t looking at him, only focused on the road. “What do you mean?”
“Whatever it is you did,” Kass said. “Maybe you killed someone. Or stole a car. Or embezzled money.”
Logan was silent for a moment, rotating her words over in his mind. What did he do? What had he done to serve the last seven years in prison? Seven brutal, heart wrenching, horrible years behind bars.
What did he do?
“I killed my father and sister.” He kept his eyes on Kass, gauging her reaction. For a moment, she didn’t look at him, but when she finally did, he found those gray eyes looking right through him, searching his soul for something more, something that she could cling to with any tiny amount of hope.
“Why?” she said finally.
Logan thought of his sister’s face. Ashley. Beautiful, sweet, funny Ashley. Seven years later he could hear her voice in his head as if he’d seen her only moments ago.
“I have my reasons,” he said finally. It wasn’t time, not yet. He was still trying to decide if he could trust this girl in the seat next to him, even if she thought it was the other way around.
Kass took the next exit without him having to point it out, flipping on the blinker to head towards a motel somewhere out in the middle of fucking nowhere. Typical Hicksville.
“So, you're just going to run away forever?”
Logan took a deep, calming breath, but it didn't work. His nerves had been toyed with, wavering at the edge of a cliff, and Kass was standing behind him poking and pushing and prodding.
“You ask a lot of questions,” he said. Staring straight ahead, Logan tapped his foot, a habit he'd acquired as a kid, something his father and Laurel had always been on him for.
Rich kids don't have rude habits.
Laurel had been the one to tell him that; Laurel, his snooty, bitch of a stepmother.
“I’m a curious girl,” Kass said. “What can I say?”
“Curiosity killed the cat.”
Despite how annoying Kass's questions were, he knew she had a point. How much longer could he run? Especially with her by his side, he was asking for trouble. He was surprised they hadn't been run down by Feds yet. Did he have time to do what he needed before time ran out? He couldn't go back to prison. No fucking way. He had to get rid of her. He had to. But how?
Leaving her in a populated area was bound to get him into trouble more quickly. He could dump her off in the middle of nowhere and tell her to find her way home, but he wasn’t comfortable with that, either. He was the villain, sure, but it would still be on him if she got raped or killed because he’d dumped her off somewhere and didn’t look back.
Logan dug into his bag and pulled out another cigarette, making a mental note to buy a new pack. It was a disgusting habit; he knew that—but it seemed to be the only thing that kept him from losing it, even if it made him smell like a bar.
“Do you have to do that in here?” Kass snapped. “It stinks.”
Logan lit it up anyway, inhaling the toxic smelling smoke. “You're the one who bummed one from me that night,” he said, glancing in her direction. “What were you trying to do, impress me?”
“Of course not. Sometimes it just helps soothe my nerves.”
“Is that the real reason?” he asked. “Or is it because you have some stupid vendetta against your boyfriend?”
“Fiancé,” corrected Kass, and Logan smirked with pleasure as she flushed red in the dark of the car. He liked pushing her buttons. Even angry emotions were better than no emotions. “Not that it's any of your fucking business.”
“Sweetheart, I think you just made it my business.”
“Don't call me sweetheart.” She looked furious like she might blow a gasket, and Logan wondered if he should quit while he was ahead. He'd found her weakness. This man, this guy, some douche bag with an inflated ego and a knack for picking on women; that was her trigger. “I'm not your sweetheart or your honey or your baby—I'm not anything to you. I'm just the stupid girl that offered you a ride out of the rain.”
“You're right.” He flicked the remainder of the cigarette out the window and leaned back in the seat, narrowing his eyes at her. “That is all you are to me, Kass. Don't you forget it.”
They traveled in silence for another few miles. Kass kept her eyes trained on the road, and Logan did the same. He could see how angry she was, even in the dark. Her lips set in a pout, her eyes squinted and angry, jaw clenched as she ground her teeth. Had the circumstances been different, Logan would have feared running into this girl somewhere in a dark alley. She wasn't someone he'd want to tangle with in a mood like that.
“The car needs to gas up again,” she said after a few minutes. Her tone was deadpan; all fucks out the window.
“That’s fine,” Logan said. “It’s time to ditch this thing
anyway.”
A tiny ray of hope appeared just then, and for a brief second, Kass hoped Logan would be on his way and let her go home. He didn’t need her, and the car was about out of gas; would she finally be free from this mess?
“Okay,” she said. “And then what?”
“What do you mean, and then what?”
“I mean, Logan, are you going to let me go home?” Kass tried to keep the hysteria from rising in her voice, but it deemed unsuccessful, especially when she looked over to find Logan shaking his head.
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not?” Her tone was rising in pitch, the utter panic she’d been struggling with for the last few hours ready to burst at the seams and erupt into what could either be a furious rage or a mental breakdown. She wasn’t sure which. “You said you needed the car, Logan, and now the car is almost out of gas for the second time. Let me go.”
“I can’t.”
Logan looked at her then, and Kass forced herself to look back. She saw no anger in his face, not this time, but there was something she couldn’t quite pinpoint. His eyebrows were pressed together in a small frown, fingers pinching his bottom lip pensively. His eyes traveled over her face, as though searching for some answer she didn’t have.
“I can’t take the chance of you turning me in,” he said finally.
“You’re assuming I give a flying fuck about who you are and where you’re going,” Kass said.
“While I’m flattered how adamant you are about the flying fucks you don’t give, I can’t just let you go yet. I’m sorry.” When she didn’t answer, he flashed a cocky grin and shrugged one shoulder. “Be flattered. Maybe I like your company.”
Logan had no doubt in his mind at this point that if Kass could make him dead with her mind, he’d already be cold and buried six feet under.
As he instructed her to pull the SUV off a no-service exit, he subconsciously leaned into the passenger’s side door, as far away from her seething anger as he could get while confined in that tiny space. He kept an eye on her clenched fists as she drove down a random gravel road, one surrounded by trees and cut off from the freeway and any busy roads. Inevitably, law enforcement would find the vehicle; not today, maybe not tomorrow, but they would find it, and Logan had no intention of being in it when they did.
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