Already Gone

by Diane Benefiel

  Maddy arranged the wet clothing on the hearth to let the heat from the fire dry them. She took the stairs to the loft two at a time and grabbed a pillow and the heavy quilt from her bed. If she could get Logan upstairs, she’d put him in a hot bath, but no way could she move two hundred unconscious man pounds. The stairs might as well have been Mt. Whitney.

  Minutes later she had the pillow under his head and the quilt pulled over the blanket and tucked around him. Kneeling next to him, she assessed what else she could do. The beanie felt damp, so she tugged it off. “Criminy, Logan,” she muttered. A nasty scrape on his forehead above his right eye oozed bright red. The cold had probably kept it from bleeding too much, and the beanie had helped. Peering closer, she realized that his jaw was shadowed with more than a day’s growth of beard. A bruise covered the right side along his chin.

  Another trip to the loft and she retrieved her first aid kit, plus the chemical warmer she found in the cupboard and didn’t remember buying. Back at Logan’s side, she activated the warmer, lifting his head to put it on the back of his neck. The scrape wasn’t deep, but looked painful. She cleaned the area around it with Betadine, and gooped on some antibacterial ointment. The scrape was shallow and too wide for a Band-Aid, so she left it uncovered.

  “You’re a pretty good nurse.” He opened his eyes; blue-gray glittering behind dark lashes.

  “Good thing, since you keep getting yourself into trouble.”

  “Got you to put your hands on me again.”

  Her heart give a solid kick. His lids drifted closed once more, so she couldn’t be absolutely sure he’d meant to say the words. With a sigh, she rose. In the kitchen, she put the kettle on once again, tossing out the now-cold tea she’d brewed before Logan had stumbled onto her porch. What had he been doing in the middle of a snowstorm, without proper clothing, and heavily armed? The answers would have to wait.

  With a fresh tea bag in the mug, this time herbal, she added a tablespoon of honey, and poured the water before it got too hot. Back in the living room, she set the mug on the coffee table.

  Logan roused himself, brow furrowed, using an elbow to prop himself up. “You got Internet?”

  “No. I’d use it to get you an ambulance if I could, not that one could get here through this weather. Nobody’s going anywhere until it clears.”

  “Got to get to the truck. It’s too cold. They’ll die.”

  “Do you know where the truck is?”

  He paused, seemed to gather strength to speak. “No. Mountain road somewhere. Bastards have a new group, can’t take them to the same stash house. They’re in the truck.”

  Women, being hauled like merchandise in the back of a truck, stranded on the side of the road in this weather. Lives could be lost if they didn’t get help, but for right now, neither she nor Logan could do anything to make that happen. “I don’t know how we can alert the authorities until there’s a break in the weather and the roads are plowed, or the phone lines or Internet come back. Even with chains, my car would never make it in this storm.”

  “Shit.” He collapsed back on the floor.

  Worry about the women gnawed at her, but getting Logan warm had to be her top priority. With a frown, Maddy considered how to get the warm tea into him. He didn’t appear steady enough to sit up and drink. She pushed the heavy ottoman close, then sat on the floor with her back against it. “Logan? I want you to sit up a bit and lean against me so I can help you with the tea.”

  “Don’t like tea.”

  “You need something warm inside you. Nurse’s orders.” She scooched forward, then told him, “Lean back against me, and I can hold the mug for you.”

  Though shivering, he hefted himself up to do as she asked. Which put his head pillowed between her breasts. Strategic error on her part, but she figured he was too out of it to notice. She reached for the mug, holding it carefully.

  He turned his head and rubbed. “Nice,” he mumbled.

  So much for not noticing. “Logan Ross, you’re going to end up back in the snow if you’re not careful.”

  “Right.” He reached for the mug with shaking hands. She let him wrap his chilled fingers around it, then helped him guide it to his lips. He sipped, swallowed, then muttered, “That’s horrible.” But he continued to sip, which kept her arms around him and his head nestled under her chin.

  He drank until the tea was gone.

  “Do you want more?”

  “No.”

  “Do you feel warmer?” She set the mug on the floor far enough away not to get knocked over.

  He still shivered. “Yeah, some.”

  “Do you want to get on the couch?”

  He gave a brief shake of his head, rubbing her breasts again, starting a tingling sensation that spread to low in her belly. Oh no, not a good idea. She nudged him until he moved back to the floor. He hooked an arm and took her with him.

  “You’re warm.” He rolled onto his back, head on the pillow, a wide palm on her lower back flattening her against him. She pulled back.

  “No, stay. Logan’s orders.”

  She snorted out a laugh, then sobered. Profound temptation apparently outweighed good sense. She gave in, pulling the blankets over them and snuggling against his hard body. Talk about guilty pleasures. She ignored the part of her brain that was a strobing red light, loud speaker blaring, “Danger Zone.” Sometimes, holding on to her anger was too much work. The hurt was still there, but also the realization that her feelings for Logan were much more confused and complicated than she’d credited.

  Sophie gave a little whine that sounded a lot like, “Hey, what about me?” Maddy pulled an arm free and patted the quilt. The dog heaved a big sigh as she settled against Logan. Maddy shifted to make herself more comfortable. With her head on Logan’s shoulder and an arm across his chest, she could tell the shivers were easing, his chest rising and falling as his breathing deepened.

  Maddy tried to get her mind to quit, to be like Logan and simply take the comfort of a warm body. Not to overthink it. But tingles that were never entirely absent when he was around were spreading from her breasts, currently crushed against his chest, to her lower body, which wouldn’t mind getting an entire happy dance if she’d shift a little bit and slide her leg between his. And while Logan might need all the blankets plus the roaring fire, her temperature gauge was pegging all the way to overheated.

  Holy moly, she hadn’t thought this through.

  He needed her for warmth. If she kept repeating that, maybe the tingles would fizzle out. Or she could think about her business. She closed her eyes and focused on a new holiday tart, something with apples and pecans, and maybe a bourbon caramel sauce. She was getting plenty of baking orders for holiday parties, and she needed to keep her store cases well stocked. Skiers from the resort across the lake liked nothing better than to come to the café and sip a hot drink and eat fresh-baked anything. She sighed, snuggling closer.

  Self-check told her the tingles were down to a tolerable level. Logan’s steady breathing had a calming effect, and she relaxed. No longer shivering, even his hand that had somehow made its way under her sweater to rest on the skin of her back felt warm. She should get up, but she’d lie there for a minute more, and put her body heat to good use. Once he was completely warm, she’d move away.

  Maddy stretched. Logan’s hand had moved low on her butt and kept her plastered to his hard body. He was no longer cold. In fact, she’d say his body temperature was well in the smokin’ hot range.

  She pushed up to her elbows, legs tangled in his, and found herself staring into eyes blazing a scorching blue, burning into hers in the brief moment before he bent forward to meet her lips with his. Cautious at first, testing, then when her lips parted, he dived in with a throaty moan.

  He started with his tongue on her lower lip, gliding until it slid inside her mouth where it melded with hers in an erotic dance. She placed her hands on his cheeks and let herself savor the never-forgotten taste that was Logan. Being kissed in suc
h an intense and focused manner made her feel like she was the center of his universe, and for a brief moment, the sensations edged the old anger and resentment to the side. Breaking the kiss with a nip on her lower lip, he drifted warm caresses along her jaw to the soft skin beneath her ear. There he nuzzled, using his nose to push her hair back so he could continue to press sumptuous kisses to her neck.

  He shifted position and his substantial erection prodded wickedly against the parts of her that most wanted to be prodded, reviving hopes of a victorious happy dance. The tingling returned times a thousand, rocketing through her to burn all the way to the tips of her fingers and toes, and zing like crazy around the pertinent parts. It took all her self-control not to crush against him and give those parts a thrill.

  Logan smelled wild and earthy. He should have been familiar, but she was no longer the teenager she had been, and he had grown way, way beyond the young twenty-year-old she had known. And as much as she wanted to satisfy all her parts, and she knew he could satisfy them and more, the repercussions of when they’d been all those years ago still brought echoes of pain.

  Panicked realization had her bolting upright. With more awkwardness than grace, she scrambled to her feet, Sophie jumping up in alarm. Luckily night had fallen while they had slept, and while the fireplace offered some light, the room was mostly in shadow.

  She whipped the picture frame off the mantel and shoved it under her sweater, swiping the flashlight she’d set on the hearth in case of an emergency. And this was an emergency. The blanket rustled as he moved.

  “Madison.”

  “Stay where it’s warm, I’ll be back in a minute.” With the beam of the flashlight bobbing in front of her, she pounded up the stairs, Sophie’s nails clicking behind her. In the loft, she slid the photo into the underwear drawer in her dresser, then made a dive for another picture from her bedside table. Were there others? She tried to clear her mind and think. No, these were the only ones that had been out.

  A noise from the stairs had her shining the light on Logan as he stood on the landing, broad chest bare. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing. I’ll be down in a minute.”

  He gave her a long look, then turned to retrace his steps. Maddy took a steadying breath. How could she have forgotten, even for a second? But she hadn’t forgotten, a voice from a dark corner of her mind chimed in. She’d chosen to lock away memories of that year and a half after Logan had left her for a few hours. She should cut herself a break.

  She was still attracted to him because she was human and female. But she would not go back to how they’d been before he left. She valued her sanity too much.

  On top of that, she had no assurance that Logan’s behavior wasn’t simply a response to the fact that she’d been all but glued to him in an effort to increase his body temperature. And oh boy, had that goal been accomplished.

  His attention was a shiny illusion, something here for a moment that would assuredly disappear when he got it in his mind to leave once more.

  Chapter Eight

  Logan collapsed on the couch. Climbing the damn stairs had exhausted him. Better than being dead, though. And that’s where he’d be if not for Maddy. He rubbed his eyes. Hiking over the ridge had seemed doable, better than being shot by Lazlo’s men, not that he thought freezing to death a better way to go than a simple gunshot. He hadn’t been able to grab his coat from the truck when he’d taken off, and then the snow from the mother of all storms had dumped. Now everything ached. His head, muscles. His heart.

  When he’d woken to find Maddy snuggled against him, instinct had kicked in. Thank god he hadn’t simply freed himself and plunged in, the craving had been so huge. She’d kissed him back, had been on board with that. Until she wasn’t. But nothing gave him the right to dive in the moment she opened her eyes. Then there was the odd scramble up the stairs. That was a new one. Freaking out a woman so much she ran. Something warm settled on his knee, and he lowered his hand to find the dog resting her chin, staring at him with the soulfulness only dogs could achieve. Sophie—he still thought it was a girlie name—sighed.

  He laid his hand on the dog’s head. Safe, warm, snowed in with Maddy and the dog. And feeling miserable because there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about the women in the truck until the weather broke.

  Making it to Maddy’s cabin had been sheer luck. He’d gone with Lazlo to an empty stash house, not far from the one the FBI had raided and where Logan had been shot. He’d been right in thinking the Hungarian was squatting in cabins closed up for the winter. The scene replayed in his mind with chilling clarity. Lazlo had offered him a side job, said he’d pay Logan to fix something at this new location where a shipment of girls was expected. There’d been no opportunity to notify Rittenhauer, but Logan had figured he could report the location when he had a chance. Riding in the truck, he’d seen to-go cups that matched the ones from Maddy’s store in the cup holders, and that bothered the hell out of him. He didn’t want the asshole anywhere near Maddy.

  They’d driven into the mountains in the gathering storm, but something had been off about Lazlo. The guy was plain freaky at the best of times, with his wild mood swings and insatiable sexual hunger, but today there was something else going on. Then they stepped out into snow beginning to tumble from the sky, and Logan had heard the unmistakable sound of the slide of a .45 being pulled back.

  “You’re a Fed.”

  Everything inside Logan stilled. Slowly, he turned. Nothing got his attention better than the business end of a gun pointed center mass. Realization flashed across his mind with chilling clarity. Lazlo had brought him here to kill him. “You thought you could pull one over on me, but I’m too smart for you.” Lazlo swaggered closer, waving the gun around like a dime-store cowboy.

  Logan stayed close to the back passenger door of the truck where his own gun sat out of reach in his tool bag,

  “What makes you think that?” He stalled, mind racing through possible scenarios that would end up with him still breathing. The situation had turned seriously sideways.

  “Don’t fuck with me, asshole.” Lazlo waved the gun again. Maybe the crazy shit would shoot himself in the balls. “The problems I’ve had the past month? Every time I turned around, there’s this construction dude hanging around.” His accent elongated the vowels, made the “s” sound harsh. “You act like you want in on fucking the girls, but you know what I heard from one of those girls? That you don’t fuck them. You go in the room but don’t do the dirty. Could be you can’t get it up. But me? I’m thinking you’re a cop. Explains why the Feds got there so quick the other day.” Lazlo’s eyes, so dark they looked black, stood in stark contrast to his pasty white skin. Snowflakes landed on his dark, oily hair and shoulders like dandruff.

  He pulled back his lips to show perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth. “Another shipment of girls came in overnight, but because of you, I can’t bring them here. You’ve cost me too much, seggfej.” Logan didn’t have to understand Hungarian to know the word wasn’t an endearment.

  Lazlo continued. “This place?” He waved the gun at the run-down cabin set among the trees. “Would have been perfect, but I know you Federal assholes will swoop in once we bring in more girls.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Logan kept his hands loose at his sides, waiting for an opening.

  “I’ll tell you what the fuck I’m talking about.” Spittle flew out of his mouth, and he moved closer to nudge Logan with the muzzle of the gun. “I’m talking about putting a bullet through your brain. But before I do that, I’m going to show you what happens to a seggfej who fucks with me.” Lazlo glanced at the road, then back. “I got three of my guys coming. I was going to have them drag your carcass into the woods and let the animals take care of you.” His lips twisted in the semblance of a smile “But I thought of a better plan. I’ll have them dig your grave, then bury you in it while you’re still breathing.”

  His smile showed twisted delight, dark
eyes gleaming. “But first, I’m going to cut you to pieces. First time I cut someone up was a little girl, down near the border. I liked it. I’m going to like cutting you, too.” He pulled a folded tactical knife from a pocket with his free hand and, using his teeth, extended the blade. The avid expression on his face turned Logan’s stomach. The guy was way past fucking crazy.

  “I’ll start with your dick. Then your balls. Once you’re screaming, I’m going to cut off every one of your toes and fingers. And I’ll stuff them in your mouth when I get tired of hearing your crying for your mother.”

  The distant sound of a truck coming up the road broke through the hush of the falling snow. Lazlo glanced at the road. In that moment of distraction, Logan attacked. He swung up a booted foot and connected with the bastard’s hand even as a wild shot rang out with a sharp crack. The gun flew into the dirt, yards away. Logan ducked under the swinging knife and went in low, taking the other man down in a full-body tackle. With probably fifty pounds and five or six inches on Lazlo, Logan had the advantage.

  They collided against a tree and Logan cursed when he scraped his forehead against rough bark. Grappling and rolling in the icy slush, Lazlo was able to wiggle free and gain his feet. Logan sprang to the side when the other man jabbed with the knife, wicked blade slashing. Logan reeled back, and Lazlo lunged after him, then lost his footing. That was all the break Logan needed. He rapped an elbow hard into Lazlo’s temple as he slid, spinning him face down into the dirty snow. Lazlo lay motionless, likely stunned. With a knee in his back, Logan disarmed him and patted him down for additional weapons. Finding none, he pocketed the knife and rose to his feet.

  Using the toe of his boot, he turned Lazlo onto his back. Eyes black in a muddy face blinked open.