mother's tear streaked face, bruised and swollen. Death had been the most merciful thing that could have befallen her. Too bad she had died beside him.
Lucy studied him intently, a hint of fear in her eyes. "Logan? Are you all right?"
Without any forethought, Logan turned and punched his hand straight through the drywall that separated the living area from the bedroom.
"Damn it!" He followed that up with a string of foul language. Lucy just sat there quietly watching him. Logan felt horrible. His hand throbbed, the knuckles were already starting to swell, and Lucy looked downright afraid of him. He had become his own worst nightmare in a single heartbeat. Oh God, he was just like his father.
She jumped up and ran to the kitchenette area. Rummaging through the freezer, Lucy grabbed a bag of frozen vegetables and swiftly crossed the small cabin to where he stood holding his sore hand.
"Here." She placed the cold package over his knuckles. "I can't imagine what that wall might have done to offend you but do you think you settled the score?"
Her attempt at mild humor tamped his rage down enough for Logan to trust himself with words. "I...I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."
His weakness at controlling the sleeping dragon embarrassed him beyond comprehension. Logan was supposed to be the strong one, protector of Lucy. After all, he had failed to protect his own mother, the least he could do was keep this woman safe. Instead, he lost control, just like the kind of man he had vowed to spend his life hunting down and locking away.
When she spoke he couldn't take his eyes off
her full lips. "I think I do."
"What do you mean?" Logan was genuinely confused. Whatever blood wasn't rushing to the injury in his hand was rushing below his belt making him lightheaded and unable to concentrate.
"I think I know what made you so angry. I was telling you my story and your eyes kept changing, like you were remembering something horrible. Something that maybe happened to someone you cared about?"
Her insight was amazing. It was as though she knew him as well, if not better than he knew himself. He hung his head, overcome with the familiar shame he felt whenever he thought of his mother and how he couldn't protect her from the evil that was his father.
"Logan? Logan, look at me." Lucy's voice was gentle, but insistent. She reminded him so much of his mother. Slowly, he lifted his head to meet her eyes.
"I couldn't protect her. I tried, but I failed."
"Who, Logan? Who couldn't you protect?" She tugged his elbow gently as she spoke, directing him back to the sofa where the conversation had begun. She settled in next to him still holding the frozen vegetables on his sore hand. He marveled at the comfort her presence brought him. Logan was a man used to being on his own; he rarely worked with a partner and relationships in his life were at a minimum. On most days, he liked his space and solitude but on this particular night, the last thing he wanted was to be alone. He sighed heavily as he used his uninjured hand to cover Lucy's smaller one.
"My mother. I couldn't protect my own mother."
"Who or what did she need protecting from?" Lucy cocked her head to the side, studying him intently
as she waited for him to answer.
"That rotten bastard that she was married to."
"Her husband?" Understanding flashed in her eyes. Her next words were little more than a whisper. "Oh. Your father."
"Yes. He took pleasure in causing her pain. It started small with a hard pinch or slap. Eventually, it evolved to punches and beatings. The night she died, he used my baseball bat to beat her to death."
"Oh, Logan. I am so sorry. What a horrible thing for you to have gone through." Her eyes were warm with sympathy.
"I could have stopped him, I was strong. I could have protected her if...if he...if he hadn't gotten to the bat first. He used it to break my arm and give me a concussion before he turned on her."
Lucy sat quiet for a moment, the fingers of her free hand working the threads in the sofa before she looked up and reached to touch his cheek. The soft feel of her fingers on his cold skin were more comforting than anything he ever remembered experiencing. The pain in his hand, and in his heart, began to ebb ever so slightly.
"You were a child, weren't you?"
"She died on my twelfth birthday. The bat was a birthday present. I wanted that bat in the worst way. Baseball was my life at that age. It was a year before I could even look at a baseball bat again. I played through high school but my heart was never really in it the same way. Every time I swung at a ball I remembered him swinging at her face."
"And my story about the women being abused brought all those angry feelings back again. I am so sorry, Logan, for what happened to you and your
mother. Somehow, I managed to drag you into the made for television movie that has become my life and you've had more than enough drama of your own. You really didn't need to get involved with someone like me."
Logan slumped back against the couch cushions dropping the nearly defrosted bag of vegetables on the coffee table. He flexed his injured hand, pleased to be able to open and close his fist with little trouble. It didn't appear anything was broken thankfully.
"It's not your fault, Lucy. The memories haunt me day and night. Why do you think I went into police work? Every day I work to avenge her death. Every rotten bastard who hurts a woman or a child that I lock away is one step closer to vindication for the way I failed her."
"You don't need vindication. You were a child. Your parents were supposed to protect you, not the other way around."
"Not so easy to convince my damaged psyche of such things. Years of counseling did nothing except teach me how to keep it all bottled up. And mostly I'm successful."
Lucy smiled gently. "Except on rare occasions. Like when a woman you have just met tells you she's in witness protection because she broke up a human trafficking ring."
Logan smiled back. "Exactly. I'm sorry I lost it. I didn't mean to scare you."
"A little hole in the wall won't frighten me. I'm a New York City cop, remember? At least, I was..." There was a note of sadness in her voice as her words faded away and her eyes became distant.
"You miss being on the job?"
"I really do. Being a cop was all I ever wanted. Much to the dismay of my socialite mother. She fully expected her little girl would grow up and marry a wealthy Italian businessman and make lots of little bambinos for her."
Logan laughed. "Your mother actually wants to be a grandmother? My mom used to talk about it like it was a fate worse than death."
"I broke her heart when I let those 'heathens' pin a badge on my shirt. No little girl of hers was going to be with all those 'dirty' people all the time. She thought I would spend my days surrounded by addicts, dealers, hookers, and johns. She never considered all the other things I would be doing. All the good I could do as a cop. She swooned for weeks about how her baby girl was dead to her."
"Swooned?" Logan chuckled. "Does anyone actually use that word anymore?"
"My mother always fancied herself a southern belle despite the fact that she was born and raised in Queens. In her mind I think our townhouse was a southern plantation house right before the start of the civil war."
"How did you end up so level headed with a mother like that?"
"She wasn't all bad. Despite the teas and cotillions she forced on me, Mom insisted I get educated, learn to cook, and take care of myself. Her only daughter was going to be headstrong and independent, not ever forced to rely on any man for anything ever. I guess I just took that to a level she never imagined."
"Sounds to me like your mother had some skeletons of her own in her closet that haunted her."
Lucy looked at him pointedly. "Don't we all?"
Logan nodded with a smile. "Point taken. I am assuming you know who the Riccis do business with?"
"Far from everyone but Salvatore Senior has some of the best hit men in the business working for the family, if one of them wants me gone, they w
ill get their way for certain."
"Not if I have anything to say about it."
Lucy patted the back of his uninjured hand the way a mother would reassure her young child. "I appreciate what you have done for me so far but I don't want you getting any deeper in this than you already are. I couldn't bear to see you hurt and besides, don't you have some kind of undercover gig to get back to at the school?"
Logan had completely forgotten about the undercover work he was supposed to be doing. Red flags would go up all over town if both he and Lucy were absent from work the next morning. He could be in real trouble for ignoring his assignment. But there was no way he was leaving Lucy at the mercy of crazed hit men.
"Don't worry about that. I'll give my lieutenant a call, have them call me in sick for a few days. If I spin it like you are part of the case he won't even question me a bit."
Lucy eyed him suspiciously. "Am I part of the case?"
"Of course not! Whatever gave you that idea?"
"Well you don't have to be so full of yourself. How would I know what you were investigating if you just happened to be passing by after my car was run off the road."
"You think I was following you?" Logan asked.
"Weren't you?"
"I don't think there was room for me with the guy right behind you trying to kill you." He sounded annoyed but he didn't care. It was pretty cocky of the cute little woman next to him to assume he was following her around after just meeting her.
"How did you find me then?"
"I got lost on my way to my new apartment, made a wrong turn, and happened upon some skid marks."
Lucy seemed to consider his explanation for a moment.
"Well," she finally spoke again, "I am very grateful that you happened by. I'd still be lying on the bottom of the ravine if you hadn't. So, thank you for finding me."
"I'm glad I got lost. I can't imagine you spending the night down there."
The air became suddenly tense as Lucy avoided his eyes, her cheeks flaming a bright red. He couldn't deny the heavy hint of attraction in his voice. In just the short time they had been together, he'd begun forming a strong attachment to the woman on the sofa next to him. It wasn't his usual M.O., and it actually made him a little nervous when he thought about it, but Lucy was someone he could get used to having on the sofa next to him.
"I should call Jack. Let him know where I am. Have you seen my phone?"
"Jack? Who's Jack? Do you have a boyfriend?" Logan didn't know why but the idea of someone named Jack with his arms around Lucy made him very angry.
"Jack is my handler with witsec. He called this afternoon to give me a heads up right before that truck
ran me off the road."
"He knew that someone was going to try to kill you? Shouldn't he have come to your rescue? Maybe give you some place safe to go?"
"I didn't think I needed any help. Besides, I just got used to being Lucy Taylor. There was no way I could learn a whole new identity again, so soon. I didn't really believe Salvatore had found me anyway."
"Oh." He could understand that. It was in his cop's nature to believe he could handle anything. It would make sense if Angelina, would believe the same. He glanced at his watch.
"It's way past midnight. Your Jack is probably sound asleep. Why don't you catch a few winks yourself? When you get up in the morning, we can figure out what to do."
As if on cue, Lucy let out a long yawn. "I am pretty tired. Jack does have a wife and kids. I don't want to disturb his whole house. You sure this place is really safe and off the radar?"
Jack had a wife and kids...even better. Logan grinned at her, and Lucy seemed to relax instantly. "As snug as a bug in a rug. Besides, you have your own personal bodyguard. I won't let anything happen to you on my watch."
"You're going to stay up all night?"
"If that's what I have to do to make you feel safe."
"I don't think you have to stay awake all night....maybe just until I fall asleep?"
Logan rose from the sofa pulling Lucy with him. He turned her toward the bedroom. "It's a deal. You go ahead and go to sleep. I'll be right here on the couch if you need me."
Halfway across the room she turned and smiled at him over her shoulder. "Thank you, Logan. For the first time in a long time I actually feel safe enough to go to sleep."
He gave a mock half bow in response. "Glad to be of service, my lady!"
The door closed softly behind her as Lucy walked in to the tiny bedroom. Logan warmed at the thought of what she was doing behind that closed door. Would she wear his ill-fitting pajamas to bed, or would she be more comfortable without them? Shaking his head to clear it of the naughty images, Logan made his way back to the sofa and took out his cell phone. It was time to check in and get the L.T. to call him out of work in the morning. He wouldn't be happy to hear from Logan this late but there was nothing to be done about that. This entire situation was completely out of his control.
The phone only rang twice.
"George." The sleepy yet irritated voice mumbled into Logan's ear. "This better be important!"
Logan kept his voice low so as not to disturb his house guest. "Hey, L.T., it's me, Logan James."
"James! What the hell? Do you know what time it is?"
"Sorry, L.T. Really, I am. Apologize to the Mrs. L.T. for me. I couldn't wait 'til morning to call. I need you to call me out of my job at the school for the next three days." That would bring them to the weekend. If he didn't put a stop to the hit on Lucy or get her holed up somewhere else safe through witness protection by then, he was losing his touch.
"Well, why the hell are you calling me in the middle of the night? You couldn't wait 'til morning?
You just started that job. There better be a damned good reason."
"There is, sir."
"Sir? You never call me sir. What are you up to?"
"I can't tell you over the phone but I'm working something."
"Something part of the case I assigned you to?"
"It could be. I don't know yet. All I know is I won't be able to return to the school until at least Monday."
"I don't what you are up to, James, but it better be on the up and up. You aren't the only one on the line with the chief here, you know."
"I know, L.T., and I will fill you in as soon as I can. Can you call me out for the rest of the week? Tell them I have the flu or the plague or something. Don't teachers get sick all the time? All those nasty germs in a school...?"
"I got it, James. Consider yourself deathly ill 'til Monday. By then I expect to know what's going on. Got it?"
"Got it. Thanks, Lieutenant."
"Just stay out of trouble, James. The department can't handle a scandal." The line went dead before Logan could respond. He clicked his phone shut and leaned back against the sofa cushions. His arms and upper back were beginning to ache a little from his rappelling expedition. How was it that less than twenty-four hours into his undercover job he fell into such a complicated mess?
Chapter Eight
A heavy yawn escaped his lips. Logan jumped up and paced the living room trying to shake of the overwhelming feeling of exhaustion that had just settled over him. He had promised Lucy he'd stay awake and watch over things. It wouldn't do for him to pass out barely thirty minutes after she went to bed.
"No! Salvatore, no!" Lucy's panicked voice screamed from the bedroom. A series of thumps followed by a loud crash echoed through the tiny cabin. Logan sprinted to the bedroom and threw door open, oblivious to what he might find on the other side. All he knew was Lucy was in trouble. Had the assassin found her? Was Salvatore Ricci exacting his revenge right under Logan's nose?
As the door slammed against the wall, Logan had his gun drawn, expecting the shadowy figure of a man to greet him. Instead he saw an empty bed, the lamp on the nightstand turned over, and a small figure curled up on the wood floor next to the bed whimpering.
He rushed to where she lay. "Lucy! Are you okay? What happened?"
When she didn't answer, he grew worried,
gently shaking the trembling figure to get her attention.
Eyes glazed, fear locked deep inside them, Lucy looked right through him as she slowly began to stop trembling.
She glanced around, noting her position on the floor and then looked up. "How did I end up on the floor?"
"I don't know for sure, although, I expect you were having some sort of dream."
A haunted look passed over her features. "Yeah, I guess I was actually." Lucy hugged herself against an involuntary shiver. "A nightmare, more likely. I remember that Salvatore was in it. Nothing dreamlike about that."
"Yeah, I imagine he was. You called out to him right before...before you landed here."
Logan offered her a wry smile as he leaned over and scooped her into his arms. No sense in letting Salvatore Ricci have all the excitement that evening. At least she wasn't yelling no at him. Her small, warm body felt way too good in his arms. He really needed to see about hooking up with someone soon. His bout with abstinence had gone on way too long.
"I wasn't calling out to him. I was begging him not to hurt me. There is a big difference, you know."
Logan smiled at the sharply defensive tone she used. It was obvious she didn't want him to think she still harbored feelings towards the man she had been supposed to take down, not fall in love with. He liked the idea of her being a little defensive because he found himself just a little bit jealous of the dirt bag mafia man that had once won Lucy's heart over.
And he had absolute no idea why.
Logan James was a lone wolf. He was
dedicated—married—to his job. There was no room for anything else.
Right?
He placed Lucy down on the bed and carefully arranged the patchwork quilt around her petite form. She had stopped shaking but he still felt the irrepressible need to protect her.
"There now. It was just a dream. No one is going to hurt you while I am here. Why don't you try and sleep again. We are going to have a long, busy day ahead of us."
She looked up at him with big, wide eyes. It took him a moment before he noticed the difference. "You took out your contacts out."
Witness Protection (Defenders of Love Book 1) Page 7
