The car shifted. The motion was just sharp enough to startle her out of the light sleep she'd succumbed to. Tara squinted at the sudden onslaught of bright streetlights, so different from the dark highway dotted with head- and tail-lights. With a frown, she realized that Logan had pulled off the Interstate.
"What are you doing?" She asked, sitting up and automatically reaching to tidy her hair. Fortunately the wig hadn't shifted much, requiring only the slightest of adjustments.
"Finding us food and a place to stay for the night," Logan replied, sparing her a quick glance. "Is drive-thru okay with you?"
"Yeah, whatever, but are you sure it's safe? To stop, I mean. If you're tired, I can drive for a while and you can take a nap in the back or something." She didn't mean to babble but a very real fear had caught hold of her and she couldn't shake it. After landing in Albuquerque, Logan had bought them tickets on the next flight out and they'd ended up in Portland. Tara had followed him without question to the rental car lot and couldn't help but notice how often Logan had looked in the rear view mirror as they'd headed for Seattle. Somewhere in the two hour flight to Salt Lake City, it had finally sunk in. She was going to die. If Logan couldn't keep her one step ahead of the men that Balboni was sending after her, if they somehow slipped up and walked right into their hands, Tara was as good as dead. The truth of it had settled itself into her heart with an icy poison that was slowly spreading through her, numbing her with a terror more pure than she'd ever experienced.
"We're in Idaho Falls, it's really late, and I think we've travelled enough today to throw them off our trail," Logan told her in his calm, soothing voice. Tara wanted to object, but her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. How could he be sure? For all they knew, the men were in that car right behind them. Tara watched the silver sedan in the side-view mirror until it turned away. She exhaled heavily, only realizing then that she'd been holding her breath. Logan didn't seem to notice her momentary anxiety as he turned into a brightly-lit fast-food restaurant.
"What do you want?" Logan asked her, idling behind the pick-up at the ordering window as he stared at the colourful menu board.
"Two cheeseburgers, extra pickles, large fries and a real Coke," she said without thinking of anything other than the loud grumbling that her stomach had taken up. Logan turned to look at her, cocking an eyebrow in surprise.
"I don't like that diet crap," she said lamely.
"Neither do I," Logan said as he pulled forward to place their orders. When he said exactly what she'd asked for and followed it with a nearly identical one for himself, Tara found herself staring at him. When he hadn't chastised her for pigging out, she had half-assumed that he would just adjust her order when placing it. He hadn't done that either. Her grandmother certainly would have. Benny, too. Tara shook her head. When was she ever going to get out from under the weight that those two people had put on her? She glanced out the window at the darkened streets and wondered if she would even be given the chance to make her life her own again.
When the paper sack of food was passed to them through the window, Logan pulled the latest rental car around to the parking lot and found a spot in the middle, under a lamp post and parked. As Tara took the first bite of her second burger, her grandmother's voice started that old echo inside of her head. Desperate to distract herself before she went seriously crazy, she turned to look at Logan.
"Why did you come looking for me?" She asked. He seemed surprised by her question, but swallowed and turned to look at her before answering.
"Jason asked me to." He said it so simply, as if he hadn't thought that he'd had any choice in the matter. Tara frowned at him.
"So, what, because he asked you, you just dropped everything and went across the country to fly to the rescue of a woman you've never met from a danger you had no knowledge of?" Her surprise was palpable. Logan shrugged and reached for his soda.
"That about sums it up," he agreed. Tara turned her attention to the container of fries in her lap.
"I'm sure that went over real well with your girlfriend." Maybe she should have shoved some of those fries in her mouth before cramming her foot into it.
"No girlfriend, so no problem," he said easily. Tara ignored how the tension in her chest relaxed. She could not be relieved to hear that he was single, could she? No. Just because she could still feel the way his lips felt pressed against hers didn't mean anything. Nothing.
"Besides," Logan continued, "rushing off to rescue damsels in distress can sometimes be a part of the job. Any woman wanting a relationship with me would have to accept that."
"Yeah because I'm sure that you frequently get dragged all over the country trying to stay ahead of flying bullets and speeding cars," Tara drawled sarcastically. Logan opened his mouth, almost as if to protest, but Tara waved her hand to dismiss the comment.
"Ignore me. I'm tired. I get weird when I'm tired."
"Only when you're tired?" Logan's lightly teasing tone made a small smile lift the corners of her mouth.
"Shut up." She tossed a crumpled up napkin at him, which he neatly dodged.
"You ready to get going?" He asked. She nodded. Logan gathered up the garbage from their meal and took it to the trash can before starting the car up again.
This time, they went to register for the room together. Tara let Logan do the talking and he noticed that it was because she was too busy scanning their surroundings. When the door opened behind them, she inched closer to him and slipped her hand into his. He squeezed it lightly in reassurance, though he turned his head. A couple with a young, sleeping child walked in. Tension slowly leaked from Logan's body. He turned back to the registration clerk and signed on the dotted line before accepting their room key.
"Please tell me it's not number thirteen," Tara muttered as they walked away from the reception desk. Logan chuckled and held the door open for her, realizing with a jolt that he was still holding onto her hand; and neither of them seemed in a hurry to let go. He checked the tag attached to the key.
"Number four," he told her. She wrinkled her nose.
"The number four is a bad omen in China, you know. Maybe we should ask if they have something else available," Tara said as Logan dropped her hand to unlock the door to their room. He gave a careful sweeping gaze of the room and stepped back so that she could walk in ahead of him. He closed and locked the door, turning the deadbolt even as he wished for a few extra barricades.
"I'm sure that you'd just find something wrong with the number of another room, so why don't we just not and say we did?" Logan suggested. Tara sighed and turned to look at him, her green eyes wide and just a little bit sad.
"What time are we going to leave in the morning?" She asked as she pulled the wig off and combed her fingers through her natural tresses.
"We have time before Jason contacts us," he reminded her, trying not to let the memory of crushing those silky black locks in his own fingers distract him from staying on point. "We could probably stay here for at least a day, maybe two, before moving on."
"But wouldn't it be best to just keep moving? If we jump around all over the map, won't it be harder to catch up to us?" Tara asked as she ducked into the bathroom with her new suitcase.
"Yes, or we could walk right into them." Logan didn't want to hide the truth from Tara. There were just as many risks with frequent relocations as there were with lingering in one place. It was all in the timing. Too bad that was so difficult to judge.
"I just can't see how staying in one place could be safe, that's all," she said as she reappeared dressed in an over-sized t-shirt. It was white and he could see her through the thin material. Every nerve in his body snapped to attention.
"Tara," he began, not knowing what he wanted to say. Then he lifted his gaze to hers and saw the fear in her eyes.
"Logan, I'm scared." He stepped toward her, reaching out a hand to cup her thin shoulder and feeling how cool her skin was beneath the paltry layer of clothing.
"I'm scared that they're going to find us and one of us is going to die." Her whispered words stabbed him right where it would hurt the most. His hand tightened its hold on her.
"Not on my watch," he growled. He meant it. He was in it now, deeper than he knew was wise, but no way was he going to let Balboni's men win.
"Logan." There were tears in her eyes and a tremble to her lower lip that nearly undid him.
"I'm not going to let anything happen to you," he growled. Tara knew that he meant it, but that was part of what left her shaking inside. She didn't want anything to happen to him either, not because of her or because of her brother. Logan deserved better than this. She looked into his eyes and saw his determination and, just under the surface, that little bit of heat she was desperately seeking. She knew that they couldn't run forever. She and Logan would find her brother and go their separate ways, or the men who hunted her would get her. As skilled as Logan was, Tara didn't like the odds. Not enough to miss out on every moment presented to her.
Tara reached up and slipped her hand around the back of his neck, pulling his head down those last few inches. When his mouth touched hers, a spark of desperate need ignited within her. She pressed her body to his as his arms banded around her, his tongue sweeping across her lips. A sensual shiver raced down her spine as he deepened the kiss until she was drunk on the heady taste of him. She moaned and delved her fingers into his hair, needing everything he had to give.
It was crazy. He had lost his mind and couldn't find it in him to care. All Logan knew was that he had to have her. She was so soft and giving beneath his touch, eager against his mouth. His hand went under the back of her shirt, finding the bare flesh of her back and they both shivered at the contact. Common sense told him to stop now, while they still had a chance. Logan pulled back, gasping for breath as he took in the sight of her swollen lips, glazed gaze and the chest that heaved with each breath she took. His skin felt too tight, like he would burst from it if he didn't have more of her. But there were so many reasons why he should just back away.
"Tara."
"Shut up and make love to me Logan," Tara said firmly, grasping the hem of her shirt and pulling it over her head. The black lace panties were the only thing that she'd had on under it, leaving all of her enticing golden skin bare to his heated gaze. A low, guttural moan reverberated through his throat and he reached for her again. She kissed him with abandon and he was sunk. Desire raged through him with a ferocity he'd never before imagined. Tara's hands worked at his jeans and she let out a triumphant cry when she got the snaps undone. Logan stepped out of them and pulled off his shirt before grasping Tara by the hips and tossing her onto the bed. She gave a small yip of surprise as she bounced, but then Logan was moving over her, touching her everywhere his greedy hands could touch.
The heat of Logan's body engulfed her, making her as light-headed and dizzy as his kisses. The sensations rolled through her body as his lips brushed along her jaw, nibbled their way down her neck. She moaned softly, digging her nails into his shoulders as heat sliced through her. His hands were all over her, cupping her breasts, smoothing over her stomach, lighting small fires with each caress. He'd slowed down, seemed to be taking his time and it was wreaking havoc on the fevered urgency she felt building up inside of her. Wherever his hands went, his mouth followed. Tara was nearly blind as she arched into his touch, her fingers lost in the thickness of hair as she held on to the only part of him that she could reach.
"Logan." He heard the plea in her voice, felt it deep inside with a spark of possession as he looked up her body to her heated gaze. That was when it hit him and hit him hard. She was everything. His heart clenched, his body throbbed and his breath stopped in his lungs as he realized the woman in his arms was going to haunt him forever.
"Logan, please," Tara whimpered. He rose up over her, pressing his lips to hers in a soul-searing kiss. She arched against him and he slid his arm underneath her, holding her as he surrendered himself to her heat.
She could see the glow of the neon sign through the curtains on the window. It was the only light in the whole room, but she'd been staring at the dark for so long that it might have been daylight as far as she was concerned. The steady drumming of Logan's heartbeat against her ear kept her grounded in the present as her fingers absently combed through the light covering of hair on his chest. Tara watched him breathe the deep, consistent breaths of someone asleep and absorbed the feel of his arm cradling her against the side of his body. She didn't know or particularly care what time it was, only that she hoped that dawn was slow to come so that she could hold onto this moment for as long as possible.
When the silence was shattered by the ringing of his cell phone, Logan awoke so fully that Tara wondered if he'd actually been asleep. His arm tightened its hold on her as he shifted only enough to reach the device.
"Gilbert." He kept his voice low, quiet enough that Tara wondered if he thought that she was asleep.
"Hey, it's me."
"Jason, it's the middle of the goddamn night," Logan groused.
"Yeah, sorry about that." The flippant way he said it made Tara think that Jason hadn't even considered the time when he'd picked up the phone. It was so typical of him. Clearly the boy she had once known, once idolized, hadn't changed very much since that hot August afternoon when he'd stood dry-eyed at the gravesite. Tara remembered watching the coffins being lowered into the ground, the moment imprinted on her memory like none other in her whole existence. It was just the two of them, standing side by side in their black clothes as the cemetery workers turned the cranks so that the bodies of their mother and father could be lowered at the same exact moment. Tara had thought that it was what they would have wanted and she needed to have that last few minutes with them. She'd thought that Jason had understood, which was why he had told the men that they weren't going anywhere and they should just do their jobs. He'd defended her need to be there. And then she'd reached over to slip her hand into his and Jason pulled away from her. He didn't say a word to her as he walked away. She'd called after him, not able to move until her parents were settled properly in their resting places, but he'd never once looked back.
"Las Vegas?" Logan's voice jolted her from the memory so suddenly that she physically twitched. Logan responded by hugging her close to him again. Tara turned her face into his chest, letting her hair fall over her face as she tried to focus on Jason's response.
"Yeah, in two days. I've got a safe house all lined up, so if you can just bring Tara to the chapel Caesar's Palace for, what, nine o'clock? I should be able to be there by then and it will be busy. It's Vegas, Logan. We'll make the switch and I'll get her off to the safe house."
"Just like that."
"Yep. Look, I've gotta go if I'm gonna make my flight. See you in two days." Tara heard the click as Jason disconnected the call. It took Logan a moment to set his phone down, but when he did, his other hand began to absently stroke her hair. Her breath sighed out of her, a tension she hadn't realized she'd been holding loosened.
"Are we driving or flying to Vegas?" She asked, her voice hushed in the silence that had fallen once more. Logan's hand stilled on the back of her head.
"Maybe we'll drive," he said slowly. "We have the time." Two days. That was it.
"Okay," Tara whispered.
"You should get some sleep." He started running his fingers through her hair again and Tara lifted her head to look at him. Logan was staring at the darkness with such an intensity that she had to reach out to him. Her hand cupped his cheek, turning his face so that he was looking at her.
"I'm not tired," she told him, her tone quiet but meaningful. Logan's expression softened and Tara pushed herself up to cover his mouth with hers as he pulled her tightly to him. Two days, she thought as his touch awakened the fire inside of her once more. It wasn't nearly enough.
His apartment smelled a bit stale and slightly dusty, having been closed up for the better part of the last four months while he'd been chasing leads from New York to Mexico. It had been necessary to do the leg work, though it would have made things a lot easier if his informant hadn't insisted on staying anonymous. Verifying the information that he'd been emailed, detailing John Balboni's business of kidnapping and selling young girls as sex slaves on the black market, had been rough and dangerous work. Jason knew that he was getting close to have enough proof to indict the mob boss and make him see real time in prison. He just needed that once piece to tip the scale. He needed to find someone who could blow the whistle on Johnny B, which meant finding this secret source of his.
Jason cracked the bedroom window and opened the closet wide, heading straight for the wall safe and the extra ammunition that he planned to take with him. He took a small suitcase down from the shelf and set it out on the bed, still rumpled and unmade from when he had tumbled out of it right before he'd gotten the email that had changed everything. Photographic evidence was next to impossible to obtain, but a picture was worth a thousand bank drafts and witness statements. Having a short series of photos of John Balboni exchanging a pair of gagged young women for a briefcase full of money was priceless. Jason tossed a pair of jeans and a couple of t-shirts on top of the bullets and quickly zipped up the bag. He stripped out of his clothing and quickly changed into a clean pair of jeans and a new shirt, leaving the dirty clothes on the floor. His cell phone pinged, signalling a new email. Jason quickly fished the device out of the discarded jeans and opened the message. Watch your back. He knows who you are. Jason frowned at the screen, but then figured that in the grand scheme of things, it didn't matter. He had assumed that Johnny B was after him when Logan had reamed him out about having to keep Tara out of the reach of the mob. He was glad that his partner was watching his sister's back.
Heading for the kitchen, he opened his fridge and took a step back when the smell hit him.
"Oh God!" He scrambled for a garbage bag and just threw everything from the fridge into it. Shuddering with repulsion, he tied the bag and turned to the sink to scrub his hands vigorously. The fern on the counter was dried up and brown, but Jason splashed some water onto it anyway. It had been left behind from one of his longer relationships in the last five years and he'd sort of grown used to having it to take care of. Hopefully it would revive itself. The plant had lasted longer than the relationship with the woman who had given it to him. Deciding he'd probably be better off grabbing drive-thru on his way, Jason popped the secret panel in the cutlery drawer and grabbed a handful of twenties. He tucked them away in his wallet and exchanged one of his fake IDs with another and then dropped the false bottom back into place and shoved all of the knives, forks and spoons back into the drawer. He had learned a long time ago to be prepared for anything and everything to happen. He only had himself in this world. Well, maybe Logan was a trustworthy guy but Jason knew that his partner would have had more than a fair share to say if he actually knew what Jason was up to. He'd see, though, once Jason had it all.
Snatching up his car keys from the hook by the door, Jason grabbed his suitcase and strode out of the apartment. He liked the high rise. Its ultramodern décor and industrial feel was simple and understated. It was the opposite of the old world glamour that he'd been exposed to growing up. This suited him more. Jason shook his head at himself, trying to clear his thoughts. He didn't like to think about his childhood. Thoughts of his parents, of his sister, and all of the things that should have been did nothing but pile the weight on. His mother and father were dead. He couldn't change that. His fault, but he couldn't change that either. What he could do, however, was make sure that his sister didn't become just one more casualty of his mistakes.
Jason stepped out of the elevator and into the parking garage. He strode across the concrete to his assigned stall. The sleek black BMW was still there, still in pristine condition. A smile that he couldn't quite help flickered on his lips. He loved this car. As he drew closer, the hairs on the back of his neck rose. It occurred to him that it had been sitting here for months, completely unattended. His throat tightened as he dropped to one knee beside the vehicle and leaned down to peer underneath. It wouldn't do him any good if he were to turn the key in the ignition and have the whole car go up in flames. Jason studied the underside of his pride and joy as thoroughly as he could without a mirror. Just to be certain, he pulled his head back out from under the car so that he could walk around it and check from the other side. As he shifted to his feet, pain exploded in the back of his head and his vision sparked white, red, then black as the ground rose up to meet his face.
Groaning softly, Tara stretched. Every muscle in her body quivered and protested the movement but it felt wonderful. She'd had the best sleep. Her head rolled over the pillow and her gaze locked with Logan's.
"Morning," she murmured. There was a thoughtful look in his eyes that told her he'd been having some serious thoughts while she lay there sleeping. With a sigh, she leaned over and brushed her lips across his before sliding out of the bed and heading for the bathroom.
Logan lay on his stomach, watching Tara retreat to the bathroom. His gaze roved over the curved swell of her hips and buttocks, the gentle slope of her back, the sway of her thickly lush hair as it tumbled down her back. He watched her until she closed the door and then he rolled over onto his back to rub at the ache in his chest. He'd been distracted enough wondering what it would be like to uncover her secrets, to touch her body and cover himself in her scent and taste. Now that he'd sampled it, had let her consume him, how would he be any good at keeping her alive if all he could think about was getting her under him again? Logan groaned softly and scrubbed his hands over his face. They'd known each other for only a few days, in an adrenaline-filled life or death frenzy that demanded clear heads even as the survival instincts were fuelled by a need to feel alive. He listened to the sounds of the water in the shower, the soft and sultry notes of Tara's song and couldn't help but think that he'd allowed things to get too out of hand. Tara didn't strike Logan as the type to have one-night stands... And he was notorious for them. She'd be better off if he let her alone. The click of the bathroom door opening made him turn his head, needing to fill his gaze with her. The tousled wet locks clung to her shoulders. There were beads of water on the tops of her breasts above the knot in the towel she'd wrapped around herself.
"Shower's free," she said cheerfully. Logan swung his legs over the side of the bed and crossed to her before he could think better of it. She deserved so much better than him. He knew it but that didn't stop him from tugging the towel loose and covering her mouth with his when her lips popped open in surprise. She recovered quickly, matching his intensity with a passion of her own. He pressed her back against the wall and she moaned as he lifted her up. He tore his mouth from hers, burying his face in the side of her neck as he pressed deeper.
His name was a cry on her lips as she shook from the force of her release. Her hands were trembling, her knees unsteady when he lowered her to the floor. Tara pressed her palms to the wall, hoping that she could at least stay standing for a few moments as he stepped back from her. His navy eyes were so intense, pinning her for a moment that seemed to stretch out between them. Then he tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear and disappeared wordlessly into the bathroom. Tara exhaled heavily and sank to her knees, waiting for her heart to calm before she even attempted to stand up.
She managed to get dressed and brush her hair before Logan reappeared, looking like he was back in full bodyguard mode once again. Tara wasn't going to kid herself. She was disappointed to see his all-business expression, even though she knew that it was absolutely necessary to her survival. Taking a moment to own the sudden wave of sadness, she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin.
"What's the plan for today?" She asked him, keeping her gaze steady on his face as he quickly donned jeans and a fresh shirt.
"Breakfast, for one," he said. She noted the carefully constructed casual tone that he used and her hand closed into a fist. He was putting up walls between them.
"Sounds good." Tara stretched a cheery smile across her face, grateful that her voice didn't wobble.
"Then we should probably hit the road," Logan said, finally turning to meet her gaze. Tara blinked, taking a moment to adjust her world back to the way that it had been before last night.
"Wig, or no wig?" Her question seemed to catch him by surprise because he startled. Then his gaze roved over her hair and a tiny stream of heat leaked through his stoic façade, streaking through his eyes before he blinked and it vanished again.
"No wig," he replied firmly.
"Then let's go."