"What is this place, anyway?" she asked, glancing around at the sparse yet almost elegant furnishings. "It's too nice to be department owned and way too fancy to be an actual hunting cabin."
"It's my safe house."
"Safe house?" She tossed him an odd look.
He nodded. "I bought it about ten years ago. I come here when I want to escape the world, forget about work, life, you know."
"What would a pretty boy history teacher need to escape from?"
She thought he was a pretty boy? That didn't sound like a good thing to him. Not the way she laced the words with disgust.
"Sit down, Lucy. Let's have that talk now."
A shadow of fear passed over her eyes but she sat gingerly at one end of the couch. Logan settled next
to her, almost close enough for their knees to touch.
Heat smoldered in his abdomen with her nearness. She shifted ever so slightly, removing any chance of contact
between their bodies and then looked up at him, eyes clouded with emotion. It was obvious that she was afraid of something. He only hoped it wasn't him. Maybe she would feel better knowing who he really was. There was little chance of him finding out who she really was if he didn't spill the beans first.
"You were right, I am not actually a teacher. I am a cop, working undercover at St. Mary's."
"I knew it!" she exclaimed. Her glee at finding him out disappeared almost instantly. Her next words were barely a whisper. "You were there because of me, weren't you?"
His head snapped up. "Why? Should I have been?"
Lucy stared back at him. "No."
"That's wasn't very convincing, Ms. Taylor."
She looked away for minute before she spoke again. "You may have noticed someone wants me dead."
"The thought did cross my mind," Logan joked halfheartedly.
"I'm a cop too."
Logan was stunned. He knew she was hiding something but he wouldn't have pegged her for being on the job.
"Are you undercover?" He recalled that this was her second year at St. Mary's. That was a long time for an undercover job but he had heard of longer.
"Sort of."
Now he was getting impatient. "What do you mean 'sort of'? Either you are or you aren't."
"Then I'm not. I'm...well, I'm in witness
protection."
That was not what he had expected to hear.
Logan could see that she struggled with sharing this information. People in witness protection were not supposed to tell anyone—ever—about their identity. It was part of the agreement to enter the program. He reached over and took her hand, a gentle gesture that surprised even him.
"It's okay, you can tell me. I'm here to help. If someone is trying to kill you it's likely that your location has been compromised anyway."
She looked up at him with the blue eyes that didn't seem to fit her complexion and suddenly he knew. "Your eyes, they aren't really blue, are they?"
She half smiled. "No, they are actually green. The blonde hair isn't mine either."
"I didn't think so." He traced his thumb across the back of her hand in tiny, soothing circles.
"It used to be dark brown and curly. I have to keep it straight and bleached as part of my disguise. I am in a lot of trouble, Officer Smith."
***
Lucy really wished Logan would stop rubbing her hand. It was distracting. She couldn't focus when the heat from his thumb warmed her blood like no other man ever had with such a simple touch. He watched her with such intensity her mouth suddenly went dry and she forgot how to form words. When she made her big announcement about being in trouble, Logan laughed drily.
"What gave that away? I mean, aside from your totaled car and the gaping hole in the back door of mine?"
She tried to pull her hand away so that
she could think, but Logan held on just a little bit tighter, instead reaching for her other hand. He
continued to study her intensely, curiosity and the faintest hint of something else clouding his crystal blue eyes. Salvatore had never looked at her like that. It was unnerving and exciting at the same time. It had to be the adrenaline spike they were both coming off of. But then why did he hold her hands? Why was his touch both calming and exciting at the same time?
She took a deep breath as much to settle her nerves as to build them up for what she was about to do. Breaking the confidence of witness protection could get her kicked out of the program. Under the circumstances, however, she thought that Logan had the right to know what he was up against for as long as he stayed with her. And she couldn't let that be for very long. It wasn't safe for him. Come morning, she would get out of there, have Mulholland meet her, and get as far away from Logan as she could.
"I grew up in New York City. Much to the dismay of my very proper mother, I joined the New York City Police Department the day after I turned twenty-one. Five years later, I worked my way up to detective. My specialty fell in with organized crimes. You know, like The Godfather type of crime families. About two and half years ago, I went into deep cover and infiltrated the Ricci crime family."
Logan let out a low whistle. "That stuff is real? I mean, I know gangs run the country but I thought all that Italian mob stuff was history and legend."
Lucy shook her head. "No way. Crime families run New York City. There is so much freshly laundered money in the city that everyone carries crisp, clean bills in their pockets whether they realize it or not. Anyway,
the Riccis were a business family. In the old days they were typical monopolies with trash removal, slum
lording, things like that."
"Sounds like the stories on television. Hit men breaking knee caps over gambling debt?"
Lucy chuckled despite herself. "Yeah, something like that. Until old man Ricci—who fancied himself the Godfather by the way—discovered big money in the import-export business."
She stopped to take a breath and organize her thoughts. She had done nothing but think about the Riccis for most of the last year but all those thoughts and memories had become a big, messy jumble. Lucy had never told anyone except her handler any of the details of what she had seen undercover. Sometimes she still woke up drenched in sweat, her muscles clenched in fear from what she had seen. She wasn't sure she could tell it all now. She decided to keep it simple.
"What exactly did Godfather Ricci import and export?" She could tell Logan already had a good idea of what her answer would be.
"Guns. Big guns. Little ones. Anything that he could move for a price. Countries in the Middle East that hated America paid top dollar for them. They found it nothing short of delightful that Salvatore Ricci would broker sales of items that would be used against his own countrymen."
"That's not exactly original. I expected more from the Godfather." Logan chuckled.
Lucy shifted, the movement causing a sharp pain in her side. Pulling her hands free from Logan's to stabilize her sore side while she searched for a comfortable position left her feeling a little cold where his heat had just been, much to her own chagrin.
"I think that as soon as it hits first light, you need an x-ray. I could have missed something in that
side." There was worry in Logan's voice. It warmed her a bit knowing he cared.
It would serve her well to remember that Logan was a cop, not Prince Charming on a white steed there to rescue her from the tower. In the morning, she would be off on her own again.
She grunted as she shifted again. "I'm fine, really. Just sore. A good night's sleep is all I need."
"Why don't you finishing telling me why someone was shooting at us before you go to bed? You know, in case it happens again." It was hard to resist Logan's charm. It made her want to tell him her entire life story but she just wasn't sure she could share the whole truth.
"I thought we were safe here?"
He grinned. "Okay, so I'm just curious then. Nature of the beast and all that."
"So how did you get stuck with the school gig?" She tried to change
the subject a little and flashed him a wry smile which Logan promptly returned.
"I do my best work when I don't have to worry about anyone else."
"Is that why they put you undercover at the school?"
"I guess so.”
"You are about as convincing as a teacher as I am."
"I thought I did a pretty good job. The students seemed to think so anyway."
"Please, Mr. Smith—such a generic name by the way—anyone with a brain could tell you were not a teacher. The girls thought you were cute, that's all."
"I am kind of cute, don't you think?" He winked at her. "And my real name is Logan James. My L.T. isn't
the creative sort. Smith was the best he could do, I guess."
"Logan James. That suits you. Smith was so...blah."
"You are stalling, Ms. Taylor." The words were a reprimand but his eyes twinkled with humor. She relaxed back against the sofa and continued her tale.
"Yeah, I guess I am. I have kept my secrets for so long it feels almost illegal to share them with anyone. My real name is Angelina Ferrara. My own Italian heritage gave me the perfect cover. I pretended to fall for Salvatore Junior, son of the head of the family." She dropped her head in shame. "Only he was so dashing, so romantic..."
"That you fell for him for real."
"Yes," she barely whispered the word. "I broke protocol. And then I found out what sort of imports Sal Junior was involved in and I confronted him."
She could feel the horror all over again; hear the screams, the pleas in languages she couldn't understand. Tears filled her eyes as she refused to meet Logan's gaze. Lucy was embarrassed to have loved a man who could sell women and girls like they were cattle.
Logan was quiet as Lucy worked through all the anger and frustration and sadness that had been locked away for so long. The emotions of it nearly overwhelmed her. The anger surfaced all over again as she remembered the dark cargo container, the smell of feces and urine and fear that mingled together in a pungent mix that made her want to throw up even now.
Logan reached for her and pulled her close; Lucy didn't fight the embrace. She didn't want to.
Logan's arms felt so good, so safe, and she had been alone for so long. He had rescued her, not once but twice, and for a woman used to taking care of herself it was awfully nice to have someone to depend on. It didn't hurt that his hand on the back of her neck while he played with the curls that had returned after her shower felt so good.
She pulled back and studied Logan for a moment before speaking. "One night I met Sal for dinner at his uncle's restaurant. Things were pretty serious by that time but I kept telling myself it was all part of my cover. Still, when he handed me the little blue box from Tiffany's with the most beautiful diamond solitaire you would ever see, I knew things had gone too far. I wanted to say yes, in the worst way."
"Did you?" Logan asked coldly, eyeing her left hand. If Lucy weren't mistaken, he actually sounded jealous.
"I told him I would let him know the next day. That it was all so sudden. I don't make rash decisions and our romance was a whirlwind of impetuous behavior. The idea of marriage to anyone after such a tumultuous affair frightened me and that's what I told him. Sal was angry, but he covered it well. For me, it was a hard slap in the face. I had gotten too deep into my cover and I had no idea how to backpedal without blowing the entire operation. My hasty answer was supposed to buy me some time to either figure a way out or return to the precinct, tail between my legs, and admit defeat."
Logan studied her intently, his eyes full of compassion. "What did you end up telling him?"
"I never got the opportunity to discuss it with him again. His cell rang when we were choking down
dessert. Salvatore was all about appearances. It was blasphemy to walk out on an Italian meal before it was complete—even one you paid for."
"Who called him?"
"I never found out. All I knew was that the call was important. He cut dinner short with a cold goodbye, dropped some money on the table, and left."
"I'm not sure if I see a connection between all that and witness protection."
"I followed him when he left the restaurant."
"Ohhh...." Logan let out a long, low whistle.
"I knew something big...something important...was going down. Sal never left the table without finishing his dessert and at least two cups of coffee. Anyway, I figured this was the big break I'd been waiting for, so I followed him. We were just a few blocks from Chelsea Piers. When he didn't get in a cab but instead made his way down the street to the water, I knew the phone call had been related to work."
"And so you followed this man alone? What is wrong with you, girl?"
She didn't understand why Logan was so angry with her. She was a cop on an undercover assignment. It was her job to find out what sort of secrets Sal was harboring.
"I was undercover! Of course I went alone! If it was nothing, I could explain away my presence with our little lovers' quarrel, beg forgiveness. But if an army of SWAT cops descended upon him, the operation was over."
Logan nodded in agreement, placated somewhat. He reached for her hand again and held it in his large, warm one as he stared at her intently waiting for the rest of the story. Lucy couldn't explain why but
his touch was oddly comforting.
The warmth radiated through her body, saturating her brain with long dormant desire. How easily this man awakened feelings she had all but forgotten existed. Her own body was betraying her again.
Pulling her hand back and folding them both in her lap, Lucy looked away as she continued her tale. "Sal climbed aboard a small cargo boat stacked three high with steel containers. A man I had never seen before met him. He was foreign and spoke with a heavy accent but I have no idea which country or dialect it was. Together, they walked to a container that had been set apart from the others on the deck of the boat. I stayed hidden in the shadows but I had to get close enough to hear what they were saying."
Logan nodded in understanding. "Salvatore saw you?"
"Not exactly. Not right away, anyway. I managed to stay hidden for most of the meeting, listening as they worked a business deal. It wasn't until the foreigner opened the cargo container did I learn what sort of deal they were brokering."
"Machine guns?"
Lucy shook her head.
"Bombs?" Logan looked confused as Lucy shook her head. "If not weapons, then what?"
"Women. Girls in their teens. Children as young as four or five. The cargo container was full. Probably four or five dozen speaking in the same tongue as the foreign man."
"Salvatore Ricci was brokering slaves." Logan let out a long whistle in disbelief.
Lucy nodded sadly. "I knew Sal and his father
were into some bad things but it never occurred to me he was into human trafficking. I was so shocked I almost gave myself away right then and there."
"What happened next? I suppose you took the two of them on single handedly and rescued all those women?" His words were teasing but she saw a light of admiration in his eyes as though Logan actually believed she was capable of what he suggested.
"One of the little girls—she couldn't have been more than four—ran from the container crying and yelling. Salvatore knocked her to the ground and held a gun to her head. A woman I can only assume was her mother ran out to try and save her but she never made it. The Asian man pulled a gun and dropped her in one shot right in front of her daughter."
"Did it occur to you to call for backup before you gave yourself away?" Logan snapped, sounding furious with her. His attitude made her angry, she was a trained police officer just like he was.
"I wouldn't be sitting here if I hadn't. I sent a text to my boss once I saw Salvatore meet up with the other man. Back up was already on its way by the time I stepped from my hiding spot."
She shivered as she remembered the look of pure evil in Salvatore's eyes when he spotted her with her gun drawn on him. "Sal was furious. When he said the words 'you
're a cop' there was pure venom in his voice. I knew he wouldn't think twice about killing me and dropping my body in the ocean if I were anyone else, but my being a cop meant they knew I was with him. That gave me hope that I could reason with him. Get the little girl away at least."
Logan stretched and leaned back against the sofa. The action did little to relieve the deep lines of
tension on his face. "Well, you're sitting here telling me the story, so I am going to guess something else happened."
Lucy sighed as the horror of the dark, dank cargo container washed over her again. "While Sal and I were having our face off, the Asian man herded all the women and the little girl back in to the container. Just as he was about to lock it up, Sal ambushed me knocking the gun from my hand, throwing me over his shoulder, and tossing me in to the container."
Logan sucked in a deep breath of air and sat up again, taking both her hands into his again. Lucy marveled at how nice it felt to be touched, even so innocently by a man again. The last year had been long and lonely. "That must have been terrifying."
"You have absolutely no idea."
Chapter Seven
The urge to beat Salvatore Ricci into a bloody mess tore at him, growing stronger as Lucy revealed her story. How dare he do that to those women! And Lucy...well, Ricci was just lucky he wasn't standing in that room.
Lucy watched him with an odd look in her fake blue eyes. He reached up and pushed a still slightly damp lock of bleached hair out of her face.
"You're right, I can't imagine at all. I'm so sorry that dirt bag did that to you. If I ever get my hands on him..."
His hands were shaking, his body so tense he jumped up from the sofa and started pacing just to release the pent up energy before he combusted or something.
"It's okay, Logan. Really, it is."
"It is so not okay. Men like Ricci should be shot. How many lives did he destroy? Human beings lost forever in the underground world of slavery. Many are probably—perhaps mercifully—dead by now."
He was getting angrier by the minute. Pictures, flash backs really, filled his mind from days gone by. Horrible abuses he had been powerless to stop. His
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