stay cool, calm and collected. In control. No matter what horrors you might see.
He forced down the wash of dark worries and killed the engine. His fingers wrapped around his gun. The cold, hard steel of his SIG reassured him, helped him to slip into work mode. He knew the grip, knew the weight, knew how it would behave. And he let the familiarity soothe him.
Taking a deep breath, he flipped the safety off.
The night air was still around him when he stepped out of his car, as though the weather sensed that something was about to go down. Not even a breeze whispered past. Moving quietly, he peered farther down the side of the road. That’s when he saw Addison’s car.
The silver Audi was covered in brutal scratches. The metal of the back door had been pushed in. Her taillight was shattered. Thankfully, it appeared that she hadn’t hit any of the trees that peppered the area. But the light from the road didn’t extend far down the dip, and he couldn’t see if she was in the car.
Moving quickly but soundlessly, he came around the red truck and checked the driver’s seat. Empty. He wasn’t about to stop and take notes, but a quick glance at the front of the car confirmed this person was driving on New York plates.
Logan scooted down the steep grass-covered ditch beside the road, balancing himself with his free hand. Something moved at the side of Addison’s car. A man was trying to open the driver’s side door.
He had two choices. Go in quietly and hope to sneak up on the guy, risking that the creep might get to Addison first. Or scare the shit out of him now and make sure he kept his grubby hands to himself. Logan couldn’t see Addison, but it appeared as though she’d locked the door per his instruction.
Good girl, Addi. I’m coming for you, just hang in there.
All of a sudden a loud snapping sound cut through the night. Shit! A branch crunched beneath his feet and the guy froze next to Addison’s door.
“Back away from the car,” Logan said calmly, the gun pointed straight forward. His voice carried across the clearing.
“I was just trying to help her, man.” The guy popped his hands up by his head and took a step back.
His face was covered by a hood, and despite the balmy weather, he had on long sleeves, gloves and jeans.
“You normally wear gloves in the summer?” Logan advanced, moving quicker now that he didn’t need to keep quiet.
The other man continued walking backward, heading toward the edge of the trees. He was going to run; Logan could feel it in his bones. But he still couldn’t tell if Addison was okay, and time wouldn’t allow him to have it both ways. He could check on her or he could go after the guy. Blindly shooting at a man wasn’t an option, even if Logan was positive that this guy was aiming to do anything but help her.
“Hold up,” he called out. “That’s far enough.”
The guy slowed down for a second, but his twitchy movements told Logan he wouldn’t stay put long. The car was close, but the damn darkness hid what was inside. If Addison was hurt, he needed to get to her. Now.
Then the guy turned and took off like a shot. Logan swore under his breath and broke into a sprint. Tall grass whipped past his legs, his shoes catching over a dip in the ground and tripping him up. Blood rushed in his ears, his heart pounding with adrenaline. All he could see was the back of the guy’s hoodie as he disappeared into the trees.
Logan skidded to a stop at the side of the Audi, his gun still pointing ahead. But the area was dark and he’d have no hope of catching the guy now. Leaning down to the passenger side window, he found Addison inside. Her tearstained face looked up at him, relief seeping into her features.
He’d found her. And now he wouldn’t be letting her out of his sight.
ADDISON’S HANDS TREMBLED so much that she struggled to open the door. The whole crazy event had happened in a blur. After the truck rammed her, the Audi had skidded off the road and hurtled down a small hill. Luckily, her brakes were in fine working order and she’d avoided crashing into the trees.
But being trapped in the car while some crazy person tried to wrench the door open was easily the most terrifying thing she’d ever experienced. He’d been hunting around for something to break the glass when Logan had showed up.
What if that lunatic had been able to get inside? How would you have defended yourself then?
The warm summer air filtered into the car as Addison finally got the door open. Then Logan’s hands were on her, helping her stand. He wrapped his arms around her so she could stay upright on her shaking legs. She melted against him, needing something solid and real to keep her from falling into a heap.
“Are you okay?” His hand brushed the hair from her forehead—but the gesture wasn’t tender. He was checking for injuries. His thumb snagged a sore spot and she winced.
“I don’t think anything is broken,” she said. “But I bumped my head.”
He checked her over as best he could in the dark. Her cheek throbbed and she was pretty sure there would be bruising on her chest from the seat belt. But she was in one piece, which was a whole lot better than what would have happened if her attacker had gotten inside her car.
“I should take you to the hospital,” Logan said, continuing to inspect her.
“No, I’m okay.”
“Are you sure? I’ll have to keep an eye on you in case there are signs of concussion.” He scanned her face. “If anything feels off, you have to tell me, okay?”
“Okay.” Her eyes darted to the dark patch of forest in front of her.
“He’s gone, Addi.”
That’s when she noticed the gun in his hand. “You didn’t shoot him?”
“I’m not going to open fire on the side of the road.” He looked down at her, less analytical this time. His rich brown eyes searched her face. “Not unless I need to. You know the rule.”
“Guns are the last resort,” she repeated her father’s words and pressed her hand to her head. Squeezing her eyes shut against the throbbing, her heart rate slowed. “But the bastard got away.”
“I wasn’t going to risk leaving you by yourself in the car in case you were hurt.” He pulled her to his chest and rested his chin on top of her head. “You come first, remember?”
Her stomach pitched. This was how he’d held her before all her boundaries turned to shit two years ago. That simple movement of tucking her head against the crook of his neck, cradling her like she was the most precious thing in the whole world, had obliterated her. Her hand came to his chest, her fingers curling into his soft cotton T-shirt.
For a moment they stood there, silent and unmoving. His hand cupped the back of her head, his warmth seeping into her. The furious beating of his heart vibrated under her fingertips. From the outside no one would know that he was worried—he hadn’t broken a sweat, hadn’t lost his cool. But she could feel his fear. His care.
“What the hell do we do now?” she asked, pushing away from him and bracing her hand against the damaged car. She couldn’t deal with Logan being kind to her, not knowing that soon she’d be leaving him. Distance was important right now. “I hit something pretty hard on the way down. I have no idea if I can drive this thing.”
Logan crouched and checked under the car. “It’s possible you’ve bent the axle. Let’s leave it here and I’ll call a tow truck when we get to the cottage.”
They grabbed her things and walked up to where Logan’s car sat on the side of the road. The red truck was still there, so he took a photo of the plate and tried the doors. Locked. Nothing helpful could be seen through the windows.