by A. M. Myers
“And what if he’s not obsessed?”
“Then it will depend on how hell-bent he is for revenge for his brother’s death.”
I don’t like this one bit.
“I know you’re probably not comfortable with this, Baby, and trust me, we’re not too excited about the idea either, but if he’s obsessed or out for revenge, you know it’s gotta be this way.”
I watch him for a minute before letting out a breath and nodding. I hate it but he’s right. We can’t let him go if he’s going to be a threat to us or our life together.
“All right. You know how I feel about it but I know you won’t do this unless it’s your only option.”
“Hey, Kitten?” he says, and I arch a brow at him. “I can’t fucking wait to marry you.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Alison
“Kitten?” Logan calls out from the kitchen, and I look up from my book.
“Yeah?”
He walks into the living room and grins when he sees me curled up on the couch with a book. “You’re cute as shit with those glasses on, Baby.”
“Noted,” I say, laughing, and he sits down on the edge of the couch.
“So, my mom just called and she’s having some electrical issues over at her house. You good here if I run over there real quick?”
I nod, smiling at him. “I am. You should invite her over for dinner next weekend so she can meet me and you can tell her we’re getting married.”
“You got it, Baby,” he says, standing up and leaning over me, caging me in with his arms. He leans down and gently presses his lips to mine, kissing me with such tenderness that I just want to melt into the couch.
“The prospects are outside, just in case. Okay?” he says as he pulls away, and I shake my head.
“Logan, I’m safe now. I don’t need the bodyguard detail.”
He smirks and leans in again, hovering over my lips, and my eyes drift closed as I reach up for him. “Just humor me,” he whispers, his breath brushing over my parted lips.
Opening my eyes, I pin him with a glare. “Fine. But by the end of the week, I want them gone for good.”
He seals his lips to mine and strokes my cheek with his thumb before pulling away. He backs up and turns to head for the door before glancing over his shoulder at me. “We’ll discuss it.”
“Hell, no, we won’t discuss it. By the end of the week, Logan. I’m serious,” I call after him, and he just laughs as the front door opens.
“We’ll see.” He winks and leaves before I can say anything else, and I sink back into the couch with a sigh as I try to fight back a smile.
God, I love that irritating man.
I sigh, enjoying the feeling of just being in my house again after everything that happened. It feels like my little piece of heaven again, and I know a big part of that is because of Logan. Grinning, I set my book down and pull out the bridal magazine that I hid in here the other day. I had to hide it because if Logan had seen it, he would have insisted that we just run off to the courthouse and get married. I don’t want anything big or crazy but I definitely want to have a wedding.
As I flip through the magazine, I toy with the idea of having it out at his grandparents’ property. It’s such an integral part of his childhood and the man he is today. Plus, I love it out there, and after listening to his grandparents’ love story, I want to honor that and maybe get some good juju for our own marriage. I just hope he’s on board, too.
I flick to a page with an ad for wedding dresses and gasp as the perfect dress stares back at me. Oh, I so want to get married in that. It’s a white tulle ball gown with a sweetheart neckline and a band of diamonds around the waist – not too big, not too small, not too flashy. It’s perfect. Bear trots into the room and stops in front of the couch, plopping his drool-covered face down on my magazine – right over my beautiful dress.
“Bear,” I gasp, shaking my head as I rub behind his ears. “Is this a sign? Here I was thinking we’d make you ring bearer but you might just drool all over everyone.”
He lets out a lazy woof and looks up at me with pleading eyes.
“What do you want? Hungry?” I ask, and he just continues staring at me with his big brown eyes.
“Want to go outside?”
He woofs again, and I laugh as I pull the magazine out from under him and lay it open on the coffee table so it can dry. He follows along at my side, nudging my hand with his nose as I walk down the hallway and open the back door for him. He shoots out into the yard, swallowed up by the darkness, and I laugh at him as I cross my arms over my chest and wait for him to come back. The wind whips through the yard, sending a chill down my spine, and I shake my head. The weather here is crazy. It was eighty degrees yesterday, and tonight I’m seriously considering starting a fire.
“Bear,” I call, shaking from the cold, but he doesn’t come back. Sighing, I turn back into the house. “Fine, Pup. Freeze to death.”
He’ll come back when he’s ready; he always does. Personally, I think he likes having a bigger backyard to run around in. The yard at Logan’s house was barely enough room for Bear after the previous owners built the huge deck on the back.
Shivering, I go to the fridge and grab a bottle of wine and two glasses before slipping into the family room and setting them down on the table. After I start a fire, I’ll go see if my magazine is dry yet.
Once I’ve got the fire roaring, I sit down on the couch and pour myself a glass of wine, glancing over at the back door, wondering where the hell that dog is. I’m just about to go check on him when the front door opens and closes.
“That was quick,” I call, grabbing the remote to turn on the TV. Logan promised me he would sit through one chick flick this weekend, and I intend to make him keep that promise. “How was your mom?”
“My sweet, Ali,” a voice I’ve only heard in my dreams says, and the glass of wine slips out of my hand, a dark purple stain spreading across the carpet. My heart pounds in my ears as I stand and slowly turn. He smiles at me, the same sickening smile that’s haunted me since I last saw him staring in my window. “My sweet, gorgeous girl. I’m here for you.”
I move backward, creeping along the couch toward the hallway so I can run, and his brow furrows as he moves toward me, holding his hands out. “Don’t be afraid, Sweetheart. I’m here to save you.”
“No, you’re not.” My voice is soft as I continue creeping toward the hallway. I’m so close, maybe I can just make a run for it. I turn and start running but I don’t make it far before his arms are wrapping around me and pulling me into his body. He spins me around to face him, and I open my mouth to scream but he covers it with his gloved hand, the leather cold against my skin.
“Shh, Sweetheart. What has he done to you, my love?” he whispers and pulls his hand away. Before I can scream, his lips are closing over mine, and I fight against him as he thrusts his tongue into my mouth. Tears leak out the corners of my eyes as I struggle in his arms. He tastes like tobacco, and it makes me gag. Pulling away, he rubs his hand over my hair and down my face again and again as he shushes me.
“You’re all right, Ali. I’m going to keep you safe from that animal.”
“No!” I yell, still struggling as I try to free myself from his grip. “Help!”
“Why are you doing this? Besides, no one is here to help you. I personally delivered those demons straight to hell for keeping you from me.”
“No,” I gasp, picturing the two young men that I’d only had the chance to meet briefly. Miles was fresh out of the Army and Logan had sponsored him in, while Cody was from the wrong side of town and looking to better his life. Now they were gone ,and it was all my fault. Tears stream down my face, and he wipes them away.
“Don’t cry for them, my love. They got what was coming to them. I’ll kill anyone that gets in between you and I. You’re mine.”
I shake my head, looking him right in the eyes as I say, “No, I’m not.” I finally manage to connect my knee with hi
s groin, and he falls to the floor as I start scrambling down the hallway. It feels like I’m walking through a fun maze, the walls moving and distorting as my body fills with adrenaline, my heart pounding a rapid beat in my ears. I turn the corner, and I can see the door. I’m almost free.
Air punches out of my lungs as he tackles me from behind, knocking me down to the floor and lying on top of me.
“Don’t make me do this to you, Sweetheart,” he pleads, and I scream and swing my fists, hoping to connect with some part of his body, but it’s impossible to do with him behind me. He sighs and stands up, grabbing onto my ankles. He starts pulling me down the hallway, back toward the kitchen.
I scream.
I kick.
I try to hang on to the floor, my nails ripping away against the hardwood, and pain shoots up my arms as he continues dragging my body down the hallway.
Tears stream down my face in torrents as he pulls me into the kitchen and flips me to my back, straddling my waist as he reaches for my hands. I fight him, constantly moving so I’m harder to latch on to, and one hand connects with his cheek. He roars in anger, slamming his body down on me, and I struggle to breathe as I continue trying to fight him. Sitting up, he wraps his hand around my throat, and my eyes go wide as I reach for him.
“You’ll thank me for this some day,” he whispers. “Fifty years from now, when we’re still happily married and our grandchildren are running around the house, you’ll thank me.”
“No!” I scream, my throat aching from the strain as he grabs one hand and pins it to the floor. I swing at him and scratch his cheek. He releases me with a hiss, bringing his hand up to his face before looking back down at me with wide eyes.
“Why are you doing this? I’m saving you.”
“No, you’re kidnapping me!” I yell, spitting in his face, and he growls as his fist slams down on my face. It stuns me long enough that he’s able to grab both of my hands and tape them together before doing the same to my ankles. As he picks me up from the floor and carries me over to the kitchen table, I glare at him.
He sets me down in a chair and crouches down in front of me, running a hand over my face. “Why did you make me do this, Sweet Girl? What did he do to you to make you think I was the evil in your life?”
“He didn’t have to do anything. I saw it all on my own,” I spit, and he stands, sighing as he starts pacing through the kitchen.
“It’s gotta be like some kind of Stockholm syndrome, right?” he mutters to himself, glancing at me. He comes back over to me and kneels in front of my chair. “You have to remember, Baby.”
When I don’t say anything, he sighs and drops his head.
“Remember when we first met, Angel? We sat across from each other on that deck, and our connection was so strong.”
I’m about to tell him that he’s delusional when a memory hits me, and I tilt my head as I look at him. There’s only one person that I can remember sitting on a deck with in recent memory but he doesn’t look anything like him. I squint, trying to imagine him with a mop of light brown hair instead of the straight dark hair he has now, and he smiles.
I gasp.
“Zach?” I ask, my mind racing as I think over my entire dinner with him. What on earth is he talking about though? He was nice but there was no connection. None at all.
“Yes, Baby,” he exclaims, grabbing my face in his hands. “You remember, don’t you? The very moment we met; I knew what we have is so special.”
I shake my head. “We didn’t have a connection. I had dinner with you once, and I haven’t seen you again.”
“No. That’s not true. We were inseparable until he took you away from me.”
I glance up at him, and the earnest look on his face makes me rethink my approach. I just need to get away from him. Maybe if I play along…
“I remember,” I whisper, and he smiles, his entire face lighting up.
“You do?”
I nod, forcing a smile to my face as I peek up at him. “Yes, I do.”
“Oh, Angel,” he says, leaning forward and caressing my cheek. He leans in to kiss me but stops. “Let me clean you up, Baby. I’m so sorry that I had to do this.”
“It’s okay, I understand,” I say, choking back the bile that is fighting its way up from my little act. He comes back with a wet washcloth and starts cleaning the blood off my face. I hiss as he brushes my nose, and I already know that it’s broken.
“I’m so sorry, Angel. When we get out of here, we’ll get you fixed up. But we have to hurry.”
Once I’m clean, he leans down and smiles as he presses his lips to mine. My body retches, desperately wanting to get away from him but I take a deep breath and force myself to kiss him back. It’s the only way it will work.
“Why did you use a different name?” I ask, the question nagging me as I watch him.
“I had to, Sweetheart. If you had known it was me, you wouldn’t have been scared and he would have known. I had to keep you safe.”
“And your hair?”
“I had to make myself look similar to him so the neighbors wouldn’t question me coming and going from your house. Everything I did was to keep you safe, Ali.” He pulls away and stands me up, leaning down and cutting the tape around my ankles.
“Baby,” I whisper when he stands back up, reaching up and brushing my fingers over his cheek. His whole body shudders, and I want to scream. “This is hurting me.”
He looks down at the tape around my wrists and nods. “Of course, Angel. I’m so sorry that I hurt you.”
He cuts the tape and peels it away from my skin, leaning down and pressing kisses against my wrists as my stomach rolls, and I close my eyes. He grabs my hand.
“Let’s go home. Okay?” he asks, and I nod, looking toward the front door. If I can just get outside, I can make a run for it. I’ll scream the whole damn neighborhood down if I have to. He wraps an arm around my shoulders and starts leading me outside. I take a deep breath as I fiddle with my ring, and he glances down.
“What the fuck is that?” he seethes, grabbing it and pulling it up to his face to inspect it. “He was forcing you to marry him?”
I squeeze my eyes closed, and tears slip down my cheeks as I nod. He’ll think I’m crying because I’m scared of Logan but denying my love for him even when my life is in danger is the real reason for my tears.
“Take it off,” he says, trying to grab it, and I yank my hand away, taking a step back as I shake my head. “What are you doing? Take that fucking ring off, Ali.”
“No,” I whisper, backing up again. He reaches out and wraps an arm around my waist before I can get away and pulls me into his body.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going? I want his ring off your finger.”
I shake my head. I don’t care what he does to me – I won’t take Logan’s ring off. “No.”
His eyes narrow, and he studies me for a second before his gaze goes cold, taking on an evil quality that makes me tremble in his arms. Reaching behind his back, he pulls a gun out of his waistband, and I gasp. “You were lying to me the entire time, weren’t you?”
“No. No, I wasn’t,” I gasp, shaking my head as I hold my hands up. He presses the gun against my head and spins me around so my back is to his front as he pushes us toward the front door.
“We’re leaving, and I swear to God, if you try to get away from me, I will shoot you.”
“So much for loving me,” I mutter, my filter completely shut off right now. He presses his cheek to mine, his lips brushing against my ear as the cold barrel of the gun presses into my forehead.
“I do love you, Angel, but I’d rather lose you to death than to that piece of shit. Besides, if you go, I won’t be far behind you, and then we can be together again. Forever.”
My blood runs cold, and my stomach rolls. The only thing worse than hell is forever with him, no matter where that forever is served.
Glancing over at the gun that’s digging into my forehead, I notice that the
safety is still on, and his hand is wrapped firmly around the grip. I let out a breath, sending a giant thank you to my dad for teaching me about guns as I elbow him in the ribs and spin away from him, running down the hallway. I can hear him wheezing behind me, and then his boots are slapping against the floor as he follows behind me.
“Don’t make me do this, Ali!” he yells behind me just as I make it into the kitchen and glance behind me. He fires the gun. A burning pain tears through my arm, and I cry out as I spin around to face him. I cover the wound and blood bubbles over my fingers, running down my arm and dripping onto the floor. He creeps into the kitchen, gun trained on me as his gaze flicks down to my arm. I use it to my advantage, charging toward him and tackling him. We fall to the floor, and he quickly rolls on top of me, pointing the gun to my chest.
As I fight him, I imagine my life with Logan. Our wedding, the kids we’ll have, raising them out on the property, and tears sting my eyes as I realize I might lose all that.
No.
That’s not an option.
I can feel myself getting weak, and I know I’m losing a lot of blood. With my last bit of energy, I bring my knee up, slamming it right into his balls. He gasps, and his body jerks, allowing me some leverage on the gun. We struggle for it, fighting for our lives, and it goes off once more. My ears ring, and I feel a heavy pressure on my chest as darkness descends over me.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Storm
Climbing out of the truck, I sigh and slip my keys into my pocket, worrying about my mom. When I got to her house and went around back, it was clear that the lines had been cut. It could have just been some punk messing around but I don’t take chances like that anymore. Whatever it is, it’s a problem for tomorrow. I’m anxious to get back to my girl. Even knowing she’s safe, I still hate being away from her for long.
“Bear?” I ask when I come around the truck and see him sitting in the shadows on the porch. “What the hell?”
The side gate is open, and he comes running to me, whining, and prancing around like something is wrong. I pat his head and creep over to the side gate but stop short, cursing. Just inside the gate are the bodies of our two prospects, one of which I sponsored. Crouching down, I look them over before a gunshot has me shooting to my feet.