Logan motioned Angelina to be quiet. A shadow fell against the curtained window of the front door. The porch boards creaked again as the doorknob shifted ever so subtly.
"We need to get you out of here." Logan's whisper was so faint she wasn't even sure he had spoken but she nodded in agreement.
"How?" she whispered back.
"The bedroom closet. There's a trap door in the floor. Follow the passageway to the end, I'll meet you there."
"Trapdoor? Secret passage?" There was no disguising the disbelief even in her whispered words.
The door handle shook a little harder making Angelina jump.
"Told you, it's my safe house. Now go. I'll be right behind you." He motioned toward the closet. Without another word, Angelina made her way silently across the room, her socks barely whispering against the wood. The door was easy to find. A flashlight hung on the wall above the trap door; she grabbed it and slipped down into the passageway.
Just as she dropped the door closed over her
head, the sound of gunshots filled the air. Using the flashlight to guide her, Angelina followed the surprisingly large tunnel moving quickly away from the small cabin. With only Logan's heavy woolen socks to protect her feet, she kept an eye out for rocks or roots in the dirt. When the dirt tunnel suddenly became a hallway with cement floors and bricked walls Angelina wasn't sure what to think. There was definitely more to Logan James than she ever would have guessed.
Angelina hadn't gone far when she encountered the end of the hall. A ladder climbed the wall to a second trap door. Angelina climbed slowly, careful not to let her feet slip on the rungs. All she needed was to slip and fall now. She threw a glance over her shoulder hoping to see Logan behind her, but the tunnel was empty...and silent. After the initial burst of gunfire the air around her was eerily still and quiet.
Pushing tentatively against the trap door above her head, she held her breath as it opened and fell to the floor. She waited, breath held, but heard nothing in response. Slowly raising her flashlight, Angelina passed it slowly around what appeared to be a small storage shed. Shovels, rakes, and other gardening tools lined one wall and carpentry tools hung neatly from pegs on another wall. Directly across from where she perched was a window and a door that she assumed led outside. Climbing from the tunnel, Angelina padded across the small space keeping her light low to the ground. Peering from the window, she could see that the small building was completely surrounded by trees except for Logan's Jeep that was parked right in front of it.
So this was where he had hidden the vehicle. At least that explained why he had been gone for so long when he went to park it. She listened for sounds
through the trees but heard nothing. There was no way to know if Logan was all right; she didn't have a clue where the cabin was, or where she was for that matter.
As she stood in the dim light made by the flashlight, a thumping from the tunnel caught her attention. Shutting off the flashlight, she reached for one of the shovels leaning against the wall with one hand and the doorknob with her other hand. Raising the shovel to her shoulder, Angelina slipped out the door and around the side of the shed hoping it was still dark enough in the early lights of dawn to hide her in the shadows.
The slam of the trap door against the floor made her jump but she held the shovel high, poised to slam it against her attacker's head if need be. If that wasn't Logan coming through that tunnel whoever did open that door was going to be in a world of hurt.
"Angelina!" a voice whispered through the dark. "Angelina, where are you! It's me! We've got to get out of here! Where are you?"
"Logan!" She hissed back. "I'm here!" Lowering the shovel, she made her way toward the direction of his voice. "Are you okay? I heard gunshots!"
"I'm fine, but we really need to leave. Now. I fired, but I don't think I hit him." She felt his hands on her arms before her eyes made out his form in the dim light of dawn. "I bought us some time but if he gets in the cabin, he will find the trap door. He knows we were there. He won't give up until he finds us."
Logan was already running toward the Jeep, dragging her along behind him. Angelina stumbled on a large tree root, slamming her big toe against the arch of wood. The impact left her sprawled on the damp, mossy smelling ground.
"Angelina!" Logan turned and scooped her up off the ground as though she weighed no more than a bag of feathers. Without missing a beat, he turned and carried her to the Jeep. As he opened the passenger door and placed her into the seat, a loud bang sounded next to her head.
"What the hell was that?" But she already knew. A large caliber slug was embedded in the frame above her head.
"Buckle up!" Logan shouted as he ran around to the other side of the Jeep and jumped into the driver's seat as two more slugs slammed into the side of the vehicle.
The engine roared to life as Angelina caught sight of a figure barreling out of the shed in a burst of gunfire. She shrank low in the seat, ignoring the searing pain in her foot and the sharp ache in her side.
Dirt and rocks filled the air as Logan slammed his foot against the gas pedal. The rear wheels spun before the Jeep lunged forward. Bullets followed them as Logan plowed through the underbrush leaving their attacker in a cloud of dirt and debris.
"I guess he found the tunnel," Angelina muttered as the Jeep raced through the woods.
"Are you all right? He didn't..."
"No, I'm not hit but if I had to guess, my big toe is looking pretty black and blue right now."
"We need to find somewhere to get you some shoes and clothes that actually fit. Not that you don't look totally adorable in my pajamas." He cocked a half grin in her direction. Even in the dim light of early morning, she saw the sparkle in his eye. This guy never seemed bothered by anything, not even hired assassins trying to kill them.
"I thought you said that place was safe, Logan."
"It is. I've never shown it to anyone before now."
"Then how did he find us?"
"I honestly don't know."
Logan suddenly whipped the wheel to the right and the Jeep turned onto a dirt road, rutted and rocky but an obvious pathway through the woods. They were quiet as Logan steered the Jeep over the twisting road finally whipping it onto a paved, two lane highway. Lucy gripped the dash as the back of the Jeep fishtailed across the road. She was certain they were going to roll into the ravine.
"Angelina," Logan finally spoke after the Jeep was steady on its wheels and barreling down the highway at twice the speed he took it through the woods. "Did you call anyone from the cabin?"
"Only my witsec agent. I wanted to let him know he was right."
"He was right about what?"
"I got a call from him last night letting him know that one of Salvatore's creeps was onto me. I called to let him know he was right, that Sal's hired gun found me, but that I was safe with you."
"Did you use your own cell phone?"
"Mine didn't fare the wreck so well. I borrowed yours when you were in the bathroom."
"Hmmm....mine is supposed to be untraceable. I disabled the GPS. Did you tell him where we are?"
"How could I? I don't have the faintest idea where your cabin is. Other than the middle of nowhere, that is. How about you? Didn't you make a call last night too?"
The sun was coming up over the horizon.
Angelina shifted in the seat so she could watch Logan as he drove. Just like the night before, he handled the Jeep like he was born in the seat of a race car.
"Just my lieutenant."
"Does he know where the cabin is?"
"No. Besides, how would that have anything to do with your hit man? The L.T. doesn't even know who you are."
They were silent for a long time before Angelina spoke again. "Well, someone told him something. Unless he is the luckiest hit man in the mob."
"The most important thing now is to find somewhere to take you that is safe and under the radar."
"Why don't you just take me back to witness protection? Let
them worry about me. There is no reason for you to have to be involved in this."
"Don't you think I am already involved?" Logan snapped. His knuckles were white against the black leather steering wheel, his faced flushed with aggravation or concentration. Angelina couldn't tell which but it didn't matter. His tone angered her.
"Well, no one said you had to stop and pull me from that ravine. I was doing just fine climbing out of it myself." Folding her arms defensively across her middle, Angelina turned her head to look out the window. She wouldn't let Logan see the tears threatening her determination to stay strong and get out of this situation alive.
The silence hung thick and heavy inside the small cab of the Jeep. The longer Logan stayed quiet, the madder Angelina got.
"Pull this thing over and let me out! You are hereby relieved of any involvement or responsibility for my well-being." She yanked at the door handle but Logan was quicker than she was grabbing her wrist and pulling it back away from the door. His grip was slightly tighter than it needed to be.
"Are you flippin' crazy, lady? Do you have any idea how fast this thing is moving?"
"I don't care! I want out! I'm a trained police officer, just like you are. I can take care of myself!"
"I don't doubt that, but how far do you think you will make it without shoes or clothes that actually fit?"
Angelina looked down at herself. She had forgotten that she was essentially barefoot and the land they were passing was made up of dense forest and wetlands. She wouldn't make it a hundred feet before the wool socks would be wet and disgusting. How would she keep warm with wet feet? She didn't like it but she needed Logan to get her to someplace safe. She needed him for a lot more, a little voice reminded her. Quickly squashing the little voice and the warm feeling that filled her as images of the night before filled her mind, Angelina relaxed against the seat reluctantly.
"Fine," she grumbled. "Where exactly are we headed?"
"As soon as I am sure your special friend isn't following us, I have the perfect place in mind. My Aunt Clara owns a little place in the mountains. I'm sure she won't mind if we stay with her for a day or two while we figure this mess out. My aunt gets very unhappy if I go too long without visiting. I'm way overdue and I am sure the two of you will get along great."
"Hmmm...is this another safe house?"
"In a sense, yes, I guess it is."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Logan didn't answer right away. Angelina had already started to regret the acid lacing her words when he finally spoke again.
"My aunt is what some might call a 'prepper.' She has a multitude of fears about the collapse of civilization, the fall of the government, and the crash of the power grid. She has set herself up with a survival compound where she plans to live out the rest of her days should the world suddenly go to hell in a hand basket."
Angelina wasn't exactly sure how to respond to that. She was aware of the sort of underground movement called "prepping." Every so often she would catch a program on television about all the conspiracy theorists and wonder who really did that stuff. Apparently, Logan's Aunt Clara did.
Luckily for her it seemed she was in need of people like the James family in her life. "This place, it's off the grid?"
"So off the grid, Aunt Clara has her own windmill."
"And you are sure it's safe? I mean, even your safe house wasn't very safe."
"If that gunman finds us then he either has super powers or someone has a GPS tracker on you. In which case it won't matter if we hide you on the moon, they will find you."
"All right then, Aunt Clara's it is."
Chapter Ten
Logan glanced over at Angelina. Sound asleep, snoring ever so quietly as her head lolled to one side. She looked adorable, dressed in his oversized clothing and covered in dirt smudges. No woman had ever affected him the way Angelina had in such a short time. As he drove like a mad man to his aunt's hideaway in the mountains, his mind kept returning to the feel of her lips against his. Every curve of her body seemed made just for his, and if they ever got another moment alone, he intended to test that theory.
What was wrong with him? The woman was in a heap of trouble and all he could think about was kissing her? Well, that wasn't entirely true. He was also thinking about exploring her soft curves—every single inch of them.
Get it together man! You need to focus on what's happening to Angelina—not what you want to do to her.
Aunt Clara used to say there was a time and a place for everything. This was definitely not the time or the place to be giving into lustful desires—desire he had resisted quite successfully for many years.
Except he had never really felt anything quite like what he felt for the mysterious woman sleeping on
the passenger seat. She had told him the story of the Ricci family only because she had to. Were there other things—deeper, darker secrets surrounding Lucy Taylor, A.K.A. Angelina Ferrara?
Angelina was in the crosshairs of a ruthless, mob assassin. What worried him more though was how the ruthless mob assassin had even known she was alive, let alone found her location. According to what she had shared, only one person knew where to find her, and Logan was fairly certain that witness protection agent was keeping tabs on her and selling her out. He had no proof, just a feeling deep in his gut, but he'd learned to trust those feelings over the years. He had been on his own for a long time with no one but himself to watch his back. Paying attention to those little bits of intuition had saved his hide on more than one occasion.
They had gone over twenty miles without another car in sight. Aunt Clara's mountain bunker was only about another thirty minutes away. If he could just get Angelina there, he could secure her and then find a way to stop the crazed maniac that wanted her dead.
Pulling out his cell phone, he was about to switch it on and call the L.T. when he thought better of it. What if that witsec dude had somehow managed to trace them with it? He couldn't risk anyone finding them again. Aunt Clara probably had some burn phones—prepaid cellular devices with no tracking capability—at the bunker. He'd wait until he was there and then check in with his boss. Maybe the L.T. could do a background check on the fed, see if he was on the up and up, or if Angelina's good ol' boy agent was on the take.
A short time later, Logan whipped the wheel to
the left so quickly the Jeep practically went up on two
wheels. He let out a quiet chuckle as he glanced over at Angelina. She didn't even crack open an eye. He righted the vehicle and began the steep climb up the mountain to his aunt's compound, slamming against roots and potholes as he drove way too fast through the trees and brush. Still the woman in his passenger seat never even stirred.
She had to be exhausted. Three attempts on her life in less than twenty-four hours...that was enough to wear anyone out. Not to mention the middle of the night...encounter...they had shared. Logan felt his jeans tighten a little as he remembered the feel of her soft, warm body against his hard, angular one.
He shook his head to clear away the images of what he would like to do with that soft, warm body as soon as they got to Aunt Clara's house. Angelina was in no condition physically after her tumble down the ravine, or emotionally after someone tried to kill her, to be the next in his list of one-night stands.
Somewhere in the back of his mind a little voice taunted him with suggestions of finally settling down, falling in love, and maybe, just maybe, having a family.
A family of his own? He was losing his mind.
The idea was as foreign to him as Thai food.
Women weren't the problem. He liked women; he was a man after all, and men had needs. When the need arose, he satisfied it. Only he never cared enough to satisfy those needs with the same soft body twice. Angelina, on the other hand, had him wanting to satisfy himself over and over again with her.
The need to be with her scared him a little. He wasn't accustomed to feeling that way. He prided himself on keeping his distance. Single statu
s had
helped him further his career, made Christmas shopping easy, and kept his heart from ever feeling the pain of loss ever again.
The day his bastard father took his mother's life, Logan vowed he would never, ever again feel that kind of loss. It was best for everyone if he kept his distance from the women of the world. He couldn't live with himself if he turned out to be like his old man. His father was a murderer. What if he turned out to be a murderer too?
He slapped a palm against the steering wheel. There was no way he was like his old man! Maybe that was why he'd become a cop. The job was a good way to funnel all that anger and predisposition to killing into something legal and just.
Angelina had been a cop in her former life. What had made her want to protect and serve? He smiled picturing her petite frame and fiery personality in full uniform pointing a gun at a dope dealer twice her size and three times as mean. There was no doubt in his mind that Angelina would've been a wildcat on the streets. He bet she would have a perp in cuffs in a matter of seconds, probably without even messing up her hair.
There was no doubt in his mind she was perfectly capable on the streets. So, if she was so capable, why did he feel such an inherent need to protect her? Now that was definitely the question of the hour.
The Jeep bottomed out hard against a dip in the dirt road. Angelina sat up straight, eyes dazed and confused as she looked around at the tall trees surrounding them.
"Where are we?" she asked, voice laced with
sleep.
"About three minutes from my Aunt Clara's place."
Angelina glanced at her watch. "We have been in the car over an hour. You should have woken me up. Why'd you let me sleep so long?"
Logan shrugged. "You were tired." He grinned sheepishly as he manipulated the vehicle over a large root that stretched across the barely there path. "Besides, I was partly responsible for keeping you awake in the middle of the night."
Witness Protection (Defenders of Love Book 1) Page 9
