With his free hand, Logan pushed open the front door again and poked his head out, the other hand holding the back of her sweatshirt in a balled-up fist. Somewhere down the sidewalk, Kass heard men's voices speaking in the dark. She held her breath and stepped out into the chill of the early morning air, trying to keep her composure as Logan pulled her gently and quietly away from the voices and towards the car. She could see two police officers, about a dozen doors down, speaking with a guest. They didn't look up.
“I want to go home.” The words seemed to pour from her mouth before they’d even reached her brain. Kass halted, digging her feet into the gravel under the snow. Logan stumbled over her, and the ruckus drew the attention of the two officers.
“Hey, kids,” one of them shouted, and both men headed in their direction.
“Kass come on!” Logan hissed desperately. He tugged on her arm, and Kass found her eyes darting between Logan’s face and the approaching cops. This was her chance to go home, to be free, she had only to fight him a little bit harder…
It was the sane thing to do.
Kass pulled her sleeve out of Logan’s grip and yanked back, ready to turn and run into the arms of the officers. They had picked up a quick pace, sensing that something was off, and as Kass turned to ditch Logan, her eyes caught glimpse of the bruises dotting her skin on her lower arms, the ones inflicted by Ryan.
She froze then, a strangled squeak escaping her lips, and her body went rigid as she fell to her knees in the parking lot. Like a flash of a bad nightmare, she saw Ryan in her mind, towering over her, screaming at her. She could smell the liquor on his breath, could feel the heat of his anger radiating from the pores of his skin. She closed her eyes, remembering the time he’d hit her in the face, bloodying her nose. Tears escaped between her eyelids, and it was at that moment she realized that Logan wasn’t holding onto her anymore. He was backing away, his eyes on the police as they headed in their direction. Kass looked from the cops, and then back over her shoulder at Logan. He looked down at her, pausing briefly, and their eyes met.
“Don’t,” she whispered. Her heart was racing, beating uncomfortably against her chest, and words she never, ever thought she’d say escaped from her lips. “Don’t leave me here.”
Chapter Ten
“Shit. Fuck. Fuuuuuck.”
Logan slammed the palm of his hand into the steering wheel, ignoring the throbbing pain that shot up his arm. The engine revved and the needle on the speedometer hovered around the number ninety-three. He eased his foot off the gas pedal, careful to keep it under eighty. Getting pulled over right now would be the worst of fates. If it were something he could control, he would damn well do it.
He had escaped, barely. Or should he say, they had escaped? Logan was still trying to process whatever had just happened back in the motel parking lot. In a moment of desperation, he’d released Kass and backed away. He’d given her an out, and she hadn’t taken it. No, she’d turned to him then, tears streaming down her face, and she’d asked him to take her with him.
Logan took a calming breath and steadied his foot on the gas, careful to keep himself under control. Panicking was not how to go. Panic was the best way to get caught—to get killed. Every moment he was free was just one step closer to the end of the game. He had somewhere to be, and nothing would stop him.
In the passenger’s seat, Kass was awake, but she had said nothing since their escape. She was staring out the windshield, silent and unblinking. She’d barely moved, let alone explained herself, and a few times Logan looked over at her to make sure she was still breathing. Maybe she was in shock. He certainly was.
The clock on the dash read 5:43. They’d been driving for over two hours, and the sun was coming up over the horizon. He'd have to put gas in the car soon, only now he'd have to be extra careful. Every moment that passed was putting him at greater risk of being found, especially with the girl along for the ride. He was wanted, she was missing, the car was stolen, and it would all be handed over wrapped up in beautiful glitter wrapping paper with a bow on top for the Feds if he wasn't careful.
“Kass,” he said. She didn’t look at him. She barely moved. “Why did you come with me? Why didn’t you go to the cops?”
No answer. Logan looked back towards the road and sighed, trying to clear his head. Was she up to something? Did she have some plan to turn him in? No, that couldn’t be it. Whatever the reasoning Kass had behind getting into the car with him was on her.
“You need to talk to me,” Logan said. “You need to speak right fucking now, Kass, before I pull this car over and dump you off.”
Silence.
Logan’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. He wanted to shake her, to yell in her face, to ask her what she was up to and why. His paranoia was getting the best of him now, and he couldn’t stop wondering what was about to happen next with her.
“Logan,” Kass said finally, after what seemed like an eternity.
“What?”
“I have to pee.”
Kass wasn’t stupid. She knew Logan wanted an explanation. He wanted to know why she had consciously decided to get into the car with him and not fall into the safe arms of a police officer. He probably thought she was up to something, had some plan to get him captured like she was now the one playing a game of cat and mouse. He wanted an answer, and she didn’t have one for him; she didn’t even have one for herself.
“Hurry up,” Logan said as he followed her into restroom inside the gas station they’d found. “This is what you bring on yourself for needing to be involved, Kass. You want to be here? Congratulations, this is what you get.”
“You can wait outside,” she said. “I won't be long.”
“Whatever the princess wants,” Logan said, turning to leave.
“Don't call me that,” Kass said sharply. “You don't know anything about me or my life, so stop pretending that you do.”
The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. He was right, she was choosing to be here, so what right did she have to argue with him?
“Princess Kass with the perfect rich-bitch life,” Logan said. “Why you don’t want to go home to that is beyond me.”
“Fuck you,” she said. Logan pushed himself away from the door and lowered his face to hers. His eyes were flashing, and for a split second Kass almost shielded herself from his rage, but Logan didn’t even raise a fist.
“Afraid I’m going to hit you?” he said. “Sorry, I’m not a woman beater. That’s your lover’s department.”
Rage erupted in Kass, a rage she had only ever felt in the darkest moments in her life. Before she could think to stop herself, she reeled her arm back to punch him in the face, more than ready and eager to hear the crack of his nose under her hand. The pain would be worth it. The punishment would be worth it. Hell, a broken fucking hand would be worth it.
As her fist came forward, Logan’s hand snapped up with surprising speed, and he seized her wrist, ducking half a foot to the side to dodge her imminent threat. She was caught off guard, but still angry, and she reeled back her free arm to try again. Too late. Now, Logan had both wrists in his hands, pulling her body up against his chest to keep her steady.
“I fucking hate you!” She tried to yank away from him, but it was no use. He pulled her into him, and she was so close to his body now that their hips nearly met. Kass saw the stubble growing on his chin, and she wanted to touch him, run her hands over his face and arms and put her head on his chest and just break down and cry.
They were mere inches apart, Kass drawn in by Logan’s grip on her. Her forearms rested against his chest, and she could make out the beat of his heart against her body, even through the jacket. They stared at each other for a long moment. Kass moistened her lips, swallowing, so caught up in the moment she almost fell into his arms. But then, Logan’s grip on her loosened, and he smiled that irritating, smug smile. Briefly, she considered having another go at it.
“I don't think you hate me as much
as you hate yourself,” he said. Still holding onto one wrist, he reached forward to push up the sleeve of her sweatshirt. Panic boiled in her chest as Kass made another feeble attempt to pull away, but his strength was no match for her, and she knew it. Struck into silence, she watched him push back the fabric, revealing the line of jagged red welts up and scabbed wounds up and down her arm. He said nothing, only stared, as if waiting for her to speak, to explain herself. She didn't. She couldn't.
“Red isn't your color,” Logan said, monotone, and he dropped her arm.
Heart thudding against her ribcage, Kass drew her sleeve back down over her skin and took a small step away from him. She suddenly felt open, exposed, as if her insides were splayed out on an operating room table in front of him and he was holding the scalpel.
Logan kept his eyes trained on her face as she splashed her splotchy cheeks with cool water and dried them with a paper towel. He took hold of her upper arm and led her out of the restroom. As they walked, dodging children and parents on the way out, nobody paid them any attention. Who were they to these strangers? A bickering couple? A pair of punk college kids prone to trouble?
Logan bought them snacks and two hot coffees before they headed back out into the cold and got into the car.
“Aren't you afraid I'll throw this in your face?” she asked, looking down at her cup. She saw Logan glanced down at the coffee in his hands, shrugging.
“You have hot coffee. I have a gun.”
“Fair enough.” She slid into the passenger's seat, knowing he was damn well full of it at this point. “Where are we going now?”
“Probably to hell.”
“No,” Kass said. She sipped at her coffee, careful not to scald her tongue, wishing she had sugar or creamer. “That's just you.”
Next to her, Logan opened his breakfast sandwich with his free hand and stuffed it into his mouth, looking like such a man as he did. All of them were the same with shit like that. Men were slobs. Even Ryan had been a slob in the comfort of his own home.
Kass rolled her eyes and slumped down in her seat, letting the cup in her hands warm up her fingers. She wished she had a shot of tequila to spice it up.
“I'm a bit curious now,” Logan said between bites. She looked over at him, watched the way his dark hair fell into his eyes, teasing. Her fingers itched to brush it away. “Did you fall hands first out of a window or did you get those scars doing something else?”
Logan's tone was innocent, but his words were sharp, cutting deep into her heart. She froze, and her heart skipped a beat. The blood seemed to drain from her face. There was personal, and then there was personal. Not even her fiancé had ever brought up those scars—he'd never cared to. What made Logan think he was special enough to ask something like that?
“My life is none of your fucking business,” she said.
“It is now,” Logan said. “You made it my business.”
“My life isn't as perfect as you think it is,” Kass muttered, staring at the coffee cup between her knees. Logan shot her a sideways glance, though she didn't bother trying to read his expression.
“I highly doubt your pathetic life can beat mine,” he said.
“Well, let's see.” Kass slumped down in her seat, annoyed at the turn the conversation had taken. But despite how annoyed she was, she couldn't hold back, couldn't shut up. He'd asked, and now she felt compelled to tell him—even if it was just to one him up. Ryan—she knew—hated that; Kass's constant urge to argue, push, and prod every moment. Logan, however, seemed to thrive off it. “Both of my parents are dead, I have no siblings, and my fiancé is an abusive ass when he drinks.”
As the words slipped from her mouth, she found herself vaguely surprised that she was having this personal of a conversation, especially with someone she barely knew. She heard the Styrofoam cup squeak between her hands, and she realized she had squeezed it nearly to the point of bursting open.
“He sounds charming,” Logan said. “No wonder you got back in the car.”
Chapter Eleven
Utah was beautiful. That was the first thing Logan noticed as they crossed the state line. It wasn't rainy like Washington or cold like Oregon. He liked Utah. Though dark out, the sky was clear, and stars glimmered above them. It was a shame he couldn't stay there forever. He could pack up a one-man tent and a sleeping bag and hike the state—see the canyons. Smoke a joint. Have a beer next to a bonfire. If only.
In the seat next to him, Kass was asleep. Her head was propped up against the window-pane, her face masked by the light of the radio. She looked peaceful, almost angelic.
Logan turned down the music on the radio, not understanding how she had fallen asleep with the booming bass in her ear. It would have driven him mad. Then again, he was already mad, wasn't he? What would one call a crazy person driven over the edge? Insane? No. Psychotic? Yes.
He looked over at Kass again, more curious than ever about this strange woman who had offered him a ride. It was difficult for him to grasp that everybody had a story, not just him. Growing up he’d learned to stop focusing on other people's problems so much—he had enough problems of his own to deal with, why would he want to take on somebody else's? It had helped, though not much. He was a naturally caring person, and trying to shut off loving emotions had been difficult for him. But now, as he looked at this girl next to him, he realized how unique Kass's story seemed, even if she’d clarified it to him she had no desire to tell it. She was tight-lipped and stubborn, and he wasn't certain he would get more from her than she would give.
Logan wanted so desperately to understand why Kass had gone with him. He wouldn’t have if the tables were turned. He’d been only an asshole to her, had proven his criminal status repeatedly, and she was still around.
Every time Kass’s fiancé was brought up, rage simmered in his groin, threatening to explode. He tried to play it off nonchalant, uncaring, but that was deeming increasingly difficult. He wanted to kill this guy, if for no other reason than to protect Kass from ever having to see his abusive face again. He wanted to beat him to a pulp, inflict the same pain on him that he’d so clearly forced on Kass. Logan knew he wasn’t the saint here; he was no knight in shining armor who’d rescued her from such a shitty life. But he sure as hell was better than any man like that.
Glancing over again, Logan noticed the sleeve riding up on Kass’s arm, and he saw the scars on her skin. He felt sick when he looked at them. Confused. Such a strong woman, a girl who’d tried to punch him in the face (and had almost succeeded), and yet he got the feeling that her demons were stronger than she was. He knew that feeling; lots of people did. They were the same, he and Kass, whether or not she knew it.
“Wake up,” Logan said. “We need to find somewhere to stay.”
When Kass stirred without waking, he slapped her thigh, harder than intended, jolting her back to reality. She bolted upright and glared at him, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. He made a mental note not to hit her again—he wouldn't be surprised if the next time he did it, she hit him back. In the face. Probably with a large, heavy object. And he would totally deserve it.
“Where are we?” She blinked a few times, groggy.
“Somewhere in Utah.”
From the corner of his eye, Logan watched her take in the surroundings. He missed when life was beautiful, when he could face the day head on and embrace what was to come with open arms. It wasn't beautiful anymore. Now it was a nightmare, and it didn’t matter where he was.
But when he looked at Kass, observed the way she took in the sights, her eyes flashing from one thing to the next, he felt like all was not lost. He felt like she may have very well been the beautiful thing that had been void in his life for far too long.
Logan cleared his throat, trying to wipe that slate clean. He couldn’t get ahead of himself, couldn’t be distracted. For that, there could be deadly consequences.
“I'm low on money,” he said. “I'm not sure we can afford another room.”
“Don't t
ell me you want to sleep in the car.” Kass sounded horrified, as if sleeping in the car was the worst thing that could happen. Because being kidnapped wasn't on her list of stuff that sucked.
“I may have the cash for one more night, but that’s it.”
He wasn’t fucking with her. After his prison release, he’d dipped into his savings for a few hundred dollars, thinking he’d be on his own the whole time. He’d assumed a quick trip; a day, maybe two. So much for assumptions.
“Well, I have something, maybe,” Kass dug into the pocket of her jeans and came up with a crumpled fifty-dollar bill. She held it up and shrugged. “It was hidden in the SUV’s console.”
“Impressive.” He couldn’t help it. He laughed. “Any more where that came from?”
“No,” Kass said. “And I’m sorry, but this needs to go to new clothes. Or a laundromat. Whichever works. I feel disgusting and probably smell like a brothel.”
Logan had the biting urge to tell Kass that she smelled lovely, but he figured at this point that was too weird. Since popular retail stores were out of the question for fear of being recognized, Logan stopped off briefly at a drug store and followed Kass in so she could grab a few things like deodorant, body wash, and a toothbrush. Logan did the same, and they got out of there in impressive time.
“My mouth tastes disgusting,” Kass said as they drove. She’d grabbed a pack of gum on the way out, and as she chewed, Logan smelled the spicy peppermint in the air. If he’d wanted to kiss her before, it was nothing compared to now.
He shifted uncomfortably in the seat, trying to direct his attention elsewhere. This was bad. This was really bad. He knew it, and there’s no way she didn’t know it, too. Logan had to pull his head out and get a clue. He had to figure out what Kass was doing, what this whole thing was…or wasn’t. If she were playing him, she’d have him hook, line, and sinker before he could take another breath. That was dangerous. It was dangerous for them both.
Capture Me Page 10
