Capture Me

by Amber Thielman

  “You do.”

  “Of course I do, asshole.” She looked at him, eyes narrowing into tiny slits. As she glared at him, Logan noted the flush of red returning to her cheeks, and relief washed over him.

  “I can’t tell you that,” he said. “If you get away from me and go to the police, I can’t risk them knowing any more than you do.”

  “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I don’t give a fuck where you’re going, Logan, as long as it’s without me.”

  “That’s not possible.” He draped his wet socks over the heater vent and dug into his bag for something dry. Aside from an extra pair of boxer briefs he’d had with him in prison, he found nothing helpful.

  “You were willing to leave me stranded in the cold in the woods, but you can’t let me go now, and you also can’t tell me why you need me.”

  Logan peeled his wet shirt over his head and hung that near the vent, too. “Leaving you back with the SUV would have guaranteed me time to get ahead. That was your chance to go home, Kass, and you chose not to.”

  “I wasn’t about to sit in the dark in the cold all night with no help,” Kass said. Her tone was laden with fury.

  Logan shrugged. “I told you that if you followed me back to the freeway, you’d be coming with me. You agreed.”

  “I did not agree.”

  “You could have stayed there.”

  “You left me no choice, Logan,” Kass got abruptly to her feet, and for a split second, Logan was sure she would hit him. Instead, she got so close to his face he could smell the light scent of snowfall on her. He almost stepped back but stood his ground instead. “You dangled freedom in front of me and knew I couldn’t take it—”

  “Couldn’t, or wouldn’t?” Logan interrupted.

  Kass’s voice caught in her throat on whatever she was going to say next; then her jaw snapped abruptly shut. “Couldn’t. I would have frozen.”

  “You could have walked yourself,” Logan said. He turned away from her, but not before he caught a glimpse of Kass’s eyes flashing quickly to his bare abdomen. When she looked away, the red on her face was just a little bit more vibrant. She lowered herself back down on the edge of the bed and stared at the floor.

  “Why can’t you trust that I won’t run straight to the cops if you let me go?”

  Logan closed his eyes, sighing. “I can’t take that chance, Kass. I just…I need to do this.”

  “What is it you need to do, Logan? Why are we doing this?” She stood up again and crossed the floor, with less anger this time. When she met his gaze, her eyes no longer burned with fury, but honest curiosity. “I’m here, okay? You’ve made that clear to me, and I’m not going to risk someone else’s life, or my own, trying to escape. So, the least you can do is tell me why you keep insisting you ‘need’ me.”

  Logan couldn’t hold her gaze for much longer. He dropped his eyes to the floor and reached up to rub the ache in the back of his neck and shook his head. “We need to sleep,” he said, side-stepping her.

  Kass threw her arms in the air, exasperated. “And then what? We get up in the morning and drive to the next city in a stolen car?”

  “If we have to.”

  “Great.” Finally seeming to forfeit, Kass kicked off her wet shoes and removed Logan’s jacket. She held it out to him, and he took it, but now she wouldn’t even look him in the eye.

  Logan looked down at the jacket in his hands and sighed before looking back up at her. “I'm sorry I have to do this.” He stood to retrieve the rope from his bag. He didn’t like having to tie her up, but the last thing he needed was to be bombarded by the police while he slept.

  “If you feel the need to tie me to the bed again, then so be it,” Kass said, rubbing her hands together. “But can I at least take a shower first?”

  “You drive a hard bargain,” Logan said. A fleeting thought crossed his mind then; Kass, half naked, standing in front of the mirror in the diner bathroom. Her cheeks red, her breasts barely covered by a black, lacy bra—the open cuts on her forearms. He hadn't been expecting that. When he first saw them, he'd been surprised, almost shocked. Kass had made her first impression on him a strong one. He saw her as someone who would let no emotional pain overpower her. But even the strongest of people could be broken. He knew that from personal experience.

  “I just want a shower,” she said, and it took serious willpower for him not to think of her naked under a stream of hot water. “I feel disgusting.”

  “Fine.”

  “I won't be long,” she said, heading straight for the bathroom. “Please don't come in.”

  She stared at him for a moment with her eyes narrowed, as if to make sure he knew that she was serious. Then she shut the door behind her, locking it, and Logan almost banged on it to force her to keep it open. But he was too tired to care. He doubted she'd be climbing through any window the size of her head. Instead of letting himself worrying too much about it, he flopped down on the bed and flicked on the TV, trying to focus on something else—anything—besides the situation he was in.

  The more he thought about that, the more he thought about his sister. And the more he thought about Ashley, the angrier he became at Laurel. Stupid fucking Laurel.

  Logan turned his attention to the television, not paying attention, but soothed by the sound of the anchorwoman's voice in his ear. White noise was all it was. For a moment, anyway.

  “Seattle, Washington's Sheriff’s Office is asking for the public’s help in locating a missing Lakewood-area woman. Twenty-five-year-old Kassidy Harding was reported missing on Sunday, October twelfth. Her fiancé reported last having contact with her on Saturday night, October eleventh. She was driving a 2011 silver SUV bearing Washington license plate number VIC-727. She was last seen on Interstate-90 with a male of similar age in the car. Anyone with information about Kassidy Harding’s whereabouts is asked to call 911 or Detective David Callum at . . .

  Logan stared at the TV, recognizing the smiling picture of Kass at once. He had been expecting this, of course, but the reality of it hit him hard. He should have been more logical about his decision. It would only be a matter of time before the feds put two and two together: a missing girl and a criminal—too easy. He’d made it too easy, and now he would pay the consequences. Aside from that, they would have to be extra careful in public. Now his face wouldn't be the only one people were looking for up on a billboard. Now it was double-trouble.

  Glancing over his shoulder, Logan looked towards the bathroom door. The water was still running. He had the option of leaving Kass there once and for all. While he kept telling himself and her that she was of use to him, the right thing would be to let her go. He wasn’t the man she thought he was, and he hated that he couldn’t tell her the truth. Not that she would believe him, anyway. He could do it; he could do it now. He could flee on foot before she even finished her shower to get as far away as he could before anyone caught on. She’d be safe, and he’d never have to see this girl again for the rest of his life.

  But he didn’t. He didn’t for the reason that made Logan question the very core of his sanity; he thought of the man Kass would be running home to, a man who laid his hands on her, someone that left bruises and welts on the skin of an innocent girl that surely didn’t deserve it.

  Logan was not a perfect man, not by any means, and especially not recently; but the thought of some coward beating a woman and leaving bruises made his blood boil. He wasn’t proud of himself for having been an asshole to her, but he’d never hit a woman in his entire life. Was Kass truly worse off with him than she was back home?

  The water in the bathroom shut off, and Logan clicked off the TV. He didn't need to give her any more reason to freak out. If she knew that someone had reported her missing, she'd be more inclined to get away from him, and it might ruin his chances of getting out ahead. She’d be less willing to go with him, not as easily persuaded. Kass was a force to be reckoned with.

  The bathroom door squeaked open, and she ca
me out still holding a wet towel to her hair. Her complexion, now makeup-free, allowed the freckles on her nose cheeks to shine through. Although the mascara under her eyes had washed away, they were still dark with fatigue. Behind that, many years of emotional and physical turmoil.

  “Where are we headed tomorrow?” she asked, sitting down on the edge of the second bed as she dried her damp brown hair. She smelled merely of shampoo and soap, but the way her wet hair fell in tendrils down her back, Logan had some strange urge to reach out and touch her freshly-washed skin, to run his thumb over her lips, touch her hair. Kiss her.

  “You ask too many questions,” he said instead. He forced his gaze away, back to the darkness of the TV in front of him. On the other bed, Kass flopped onto her back, folding her hands over her stomach as she stared at the ceiling in silence.

  “I’d ask less if you answered more,” she said.

  “I told you, now is not the time.”

  “Are you dangerous, Logan?” Kass sat up on the bed and looked at him. Her head tilted slightly to the side as she stared him down. Logan stared back, trying to keep his gaze from skimming over the soft curve of her neck. She was chewing her lip again, and the desperate desire he had to take her in his arms and ravish her was overwhelming. He blew a breath out to compose himself and looked away.

  “Do you think I’m dangerous?”

  Kass scoffed, but some hint of a tiny, annoyed smile appeared. It was gone before he could confirm that it was there. “I think you’re an idiot,” she said, and shrugged. “And I believe that you're trying to be scarier than you are. I believe you want me to be afraid of you because you’re scared of what will happen if you’re caught.”

  “What makes you think that? What makes you think I’m more than just some jailbreak, homicidal maniac trying to escape from the police?”

  “I don’t know.” Kass studied his face. Not for the first time, Logan felt oddly vulnerable under her steady gaze. “I guess I’m pretty familiar with bad people, Logan, and you just don’t seem like the bad guy you want to convince me that you are. Not to mention yourself.”

  “I kidnapped you at gun point,” Logan reminded her. “I’m no good person, Kass.”

  “Well, you haven’t raped me or tried to strangle me.” She paused, and this time it was her who couldn’t hold the gaze between them. After a moment of silence, she leaned forward, propping her elbows up on her thighs. The fresh scent of soap lingered on her skin, intoxicating.

  “Tell me, Logan, who are you really?”

  “I’m just a guy,” Logan said. “I’m a guy who has something that needs done, and you got involved without meaning to.”

  “Don’t play me,” Kass said. She sat up, glaring at him with something that very well could have been disgust. “Tell me the fucking truth, Logan. Tell me why you’re running and why you have weapons on you.”

  “Leave it alone, Kass.”

  “Fucking tell me.”

  “No.”

  “I hate you.”

  “I know.” Logan stared at Kass, noticed the way her breasts rose and fell gently with the unsteadiness of her angry breathing. She was on her knees on the bed, arms at her side, hands clenched into angry fists. “I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t think you’re sorry at all,” Kass said. She sat back on her heels and looked away from him. “If you were sorry, you’d tell me what’s going on.”

  “It’s not the right time,” Logan said. He rummaged through his pack for the rope, unable to keep looking at her. “Now drop it. It’s time to go to sleep.”

  Chapter Nine

  Kass didn't sleep well that night, tied up to the bedpost with Logan snoring on the other bed not far from her. She tried to close her eyes and get rest, but sleep refused her.

  She thought of Ryan and Abby instead, back home. Abby would be on the phone with every law enforcement officer in the state, sobbing and screaming and demanding someone do something. She wouldn't sleep. Despite her party-girl ways, they were best friends. No, sisters. She would pace the house in her slippers and robe and bloodshot eyes as she made pot after pot of coffee and sat by the phone, waiting for Kass to call.

  Ryan would be sulking at home, head in his hands, wanting desperately to light up a cigarette to ease the stress. Did he miss her? Was he a mess without her? For a fleeting moment, she wondered if he'd even noticed she was gone, and a ball of rage formed in the pit of Kass’s stomach. It was almost to the point now that when she thought about home, she didn’t think about Ryan.

  Logan was a mystery. In the brief time she’d been with him, Kass had sensed many layers of personality and emotion make a brief appearance. Last night, walking through the cold and snow, he’d given her his jacket, fingers lingering near her cheeks. Concern had been clear in his face, surprising Kass. She couldn’t get a solid read on him because he wouldn’t tell her the whole story, and she hated that; it made her feel like he was hiding so much more, things that made him more dangerous than she wanted to believe he was.

  He had weapons, and he’d pulled a gun on her. He’d kidnapped her. But then, last night, he’d given her the choice to part ways with him. It had been an awful shitty option, granted, but she knew he hadn’t been playing a game with her. Had she stayed back with the SUV and made it through the night without freezing to death, she could have easily walked to help this morning. It had been about a mile from the abandoned vehicle back to the freeway, and while it had been a bitterly cold journey, they’d both survived, and once again she felt caught in this web of lies that Logan was offering.

  Was it lies? Earlier he’d told her point-blank that he’d killed his father and sister. But the way he’d said it made her doubt the words coming out of his mouth. At least, that’s what she wanted to believe, anyway; Logan wasn’t a killer, a murderer. Then again, maybe he hadn’t threatened her at gunpoint and tied her up once again to this fucking bed.

  Kass tilted her head to the side to look over at Logan. She could see him vaguely in the dim light, lying on his back, clothed on the bed. He had his hands crossed over his stomach, and they rose and fell with his breathing. Even asleep, the muscles under his white tee shirt were apparent. She remembered suddenly the way he’d taken her hand in the parking lot, squeezing her fingers in his, and for that fucked-up moment, Kass had felt okay. No, better than okay. She’d felt comfortable. Safe. Protected.

  How ironic.

  As she closed her eyes again and shifted for a more comfortable angle, something poked her in the thigh. She winced, twisting her hip to the side as the small piece of jagged ceramic reminded her it was there. My God, maybe it would work.

  Careful to move quietly as not to wake Logan, Kass scooted herself until she had just enough slack to maneuver better. She grabbed hold of the tiny end of rope and hauled herself up until she was almost sitting on her knees. She twisted the rope and brought the lower half of her body as far up as she could to reach her pocket. Her joints and muscles screamed in pain, but she ignored it as her fingers brushed the small, sharp piece and secured it safely in her fingers.

  Letting out a long breath, she allowed her body to relax back onto the mattress as she tried to breathe through the cramping pain of her muscles. The creak of the bed made Logan stir, and Kass froze, her eyes on the lump in the bed, expecting it to rise at any moment. As soon as he snored again, Kass went to work on the rope.

  Thirty-six minutes later, despite the pain in her hands and the blisters on her fingers, Kass got the rope just thin enough to snap. Her hands fell to her sides, numb and sore and beat-up, but she was fucking free!

  Knowing there was no time to waste, Kass slid off the bed, moving slowly and holding her breath. She stepped around the bed, her eyes searching the table desk in the dark for the gun, or anything she could use if he woke up. But it wasn’t there; nothing was. The gun was on him.

  Somewhere in the parking lot of the motel, the rev of an engine split through the eerie silence. Headlights flashed against the window, blinding her through
the crack in the curtain. A door slammed next to them, but she wasn't the only one to hear it. On the other bed, Logan stopped snoring and stirred. She could barely see him in the dark, but she could tell he, too, was listening.

  “What's that noise?” he asked, tone tinted with sleep.

  Fuck.

  This was it; she had to make a run for it.

  Kass bolted towards the door and yanked, one finger reaching to unlock the deadbolt as the other hand grabbed for the chain lock on the door. She heard movement behind her but didn’t dare turn around as the soft click of the deadbolt rang in her ears. The fingers fumbling for the second lock grabbed hold of the chain and pulled, and the door budged open.

  One foot out, and the second was in mid-air as he threw his arms around her midsection and pulled her back into the room. She tripped over him and they both landed on the bed in a heap; Logan with one arm still around Kass’s waist as she tried to pry his grip away. He fumbled, just for a moment, and pain seared through her sore muscles as Kass lunged for the door, but his grip on her was too tight, and for a mere instant, she relaxed with resignation. For a moment—for a fleeting second—they were face-to-face and eye-to-eye. His hands were on her shoulders, steadying her. She could smell the cigarette smoke on his jacket, caught a distinct whiff of men's cologne—Old Spice, probably—and it smelled so good—

  It only lasted a second. One minute their noses were inches apart, and the next Logan was spinning her around and pushing her towards the door.

  “Don't make a noise,” he whispered.

  Kass nodded, mute, unable to bring herself to keep fighting him. Now that he was awake and coherent, he’d have no trouble taking her down himself.

  Her brain was a scrambled mess, incoherent thoughts paralyzing her. She didn’t know what to feel anymore, what to think. She was still dazed and dizzy, surprised by not only how close she’d been to freedom, but also by how close she and Logan had just been. She could still feel a tingling where his hand had been planted softly on her shoulder.