âAre you going to leave now that you have the drive?â
He looked down at Chloe. Her cheeks were pink. Her lips bright red and swollen. Disheveled locks framed her face. They both lay sprawled amidst the rumpled covers and sheets of the bed.
âWe are leaving tonight as soon as it gets dark.â
âI thought once you had the driveâ¦â
âYouâre not out of danger yet, babygirl. That gang has already figured out Chad double-crossed them the moment he cleared those prison grounds. They are probably already on their way up here. We need to clear out. Iâll get you to safety then make the exchange with my client. As soon as the gang learns you no longer have the drive, they will leave you alone.â
âWonât they still try to come after meâ¦for revenge or something? That is what they do in the movies.â
He chuckled as he kissed the top of her head. âUnlikely. Killing a young white woman would be bad for business and bring too much attention. Not that they wouldnât hesitate to do so if they thought you were still in possession of the drive,â he corrected.
âHow do we let them know? Itâs not like I can email them.â
âLetâs just say I have a few connections. Iâll get the word to them in no uncertain terms.â
âWonât they go after your client next?â
Logan smiled. âThatâs my clientâs problem.â
To lighten the mood, he said, âBesides, we have to leave or we will starve. There is literally no more food in this cabin.â
She gave him a playful swat on the arm, her hand resting on his queen of hearts tattoo.
âOnly pack what you need.â
âBut I need all my tools and supplies,â she complained, as she started stacking tools and jewelry molds on the workbench in her studio above the garage.
Logan reached out to still her hands.
Cupping her by the shoulders, he said, âBaby, we came up here because you said you needed something from the safe, not to pack up your whole damn life. I am trying to save you from a psychotic gang you know.â
Her lower lip protruded in an adorable pout.
âI am packing up the safe. There are lots of precious stones and metals in there. Not to mention those stupid diamonds. I donât see why I couldnât also take a few tools and supplies. I have an order to fill. I still have to make a living.â
Logan threw up his hands in defeat. Now was not the time to tell Chloe her life had changed the moment that piece of shit ex-boyfriend of hers implicated her in a theft from a powerful Columbian gang. The likelihood of her returning to her jewelry business was slim at best. He would save that revelation for later, when he had her safe.
He placed a single large box in the center of the room. âYou may fill this boxâ¦and only this boxâ¦with anything you want from here.â
Chloe gave him a peck on the cheek. âYou come off as all mean and dangerous, but you can really be a softie you know?â
He gave her a swat on the ass as he playfully growled at her.
âI will be back.â
âWhere are you going?â There was a hint of anxiety in her voice. Logan smiled. He liked that she had gotten so used to his presence it concerned her when he left. It felt good to have someone give a damn about him. It had been too long.
âI need to head into the woods and grab the coordinates for Chadâs grave. I wasnât able to do it with any accuracy last night in the dark and the rain.â
The mention of Chadâs body sobered the moment.
Chloe shuffled and rearranged the metal molds on her workbench. âDo you think I am an evil person? Not for killing him; I truly believe it was in my own self-defense. There is not a doubt in my mind he would have killed me first, but for notâ¦not caring more?â
Logan wrapped his arms around her middle and pulled her close. Back to front. He nuzzled her neck. âYou care. Trust me, baby. You are not so far gone to the dark side yet that you could kill without emotion or guilt. The emotional reaction will come later. Once the danger has passed and you have time to really think on it, but donât worry, Iâll be there. Iâll get you through it.â
âI supposed youâve killed countless men?â she asked hesitantly as she stroked his hand which rested protectively over her middle.
âYes, but they were all bad,â he said off-handedly. Turning her around, he gave her a kiss on the forehead and headed down the stairs.
Chloeâs scream pierced the silence of the woods.
Logan bolted, racing under branches and over fallen logs.
Finally, the cabin was in view.
Another scream.
Fuck!
He vaulted over the wooden fence marking the start of her uncleâs property. Leaning his back against the side of the cabin, he slowed his breathing and focused. He wouldnât be any good to Chloe if he ran into the situation half-cocked.
Sliding along the wall, he could hear voices as he neared the front clearing. There were more than one, possibly four men. Hispanic accents.
âShut the dumb bitch up. You want to alert that asshole?â
âDid you see the size of that fucker?â
âWhat, you scared, Julio?â
âFuck you. Iâm not scared of anyone. Iâm just saying heâs a big fucking dude.â
âThat big fucking dude is going to kill you for touching me.â
The last was from his girl. Feisty and full of fire as always. Damn, he loved the spitfire in her. He would even forgive her cursingâ¦this time.
âShut up, puta.â
There was the sickening sound of skin on skin contact.
He had heard enough. Logan strolled into view.
All conversation stopped. All eyes were on him.
One man stepped forward, puffing his chest in a foolâs attempt to look important and authoritative. It didnât work.
âStop where you are, we are US Marshals taking this woman into custody for harboring a fugitive.â The manâs tone was formal and no nonsense. The perfect mimic of a government officialâ¦from a Hollywood movie.
Logan wasnât buying it. He assessed the scene.
The three men were also dressed rather comically as S.W.A.T. commandos, apparently falling for the complete Hollywood package of what US Marshals wear. Even the badges on their chests were wrong. They had a four-point star pinned to their shirts, not the traditional six-point star of the Marshal service.
The final tell? Their hardware. They were each carrying FN Five-seveN pistols, not the standard government issued Glock. The gun was nicknamed the âcop-killerâ because its ammunition could puncture bulletproof vests and even lightly armored cars. It was a favorite among the Mexican cartels.
A Mexican cartel? Jesus Christ. This whole thing was becoming a real cluster fuck.
He couldnât wait to get back in front of his client. He would definitely have a few choice words regarding the briefing heâd received about this job. Well, at least he would try to contain his remarks to just words.
It looked like the message had finally gotten out that the Columbians had a rogue member. Now the Mexicans had arrived to claim Chloe and the flash drive. It didnât make sense why the Mexicans were getting involved in this mess; the Colombians were their cocaine suppliers. Still Logan wouldnât put it past some up-start Mexican cartel to try to make a name for themselves by retrieving the flash drive just to fuck with the Colombians.
So basically the Mexicans and the Columbians were about to get into a petty pissing match over a measly fifteen million, and his Chloe was caught in between. If that fucking piece of shit Chad wasnât already dead he would kill him himself, thought Logan, and not for the first time.
Holding his hands high in the air, Logan slowly approached the armed men.
Chloeâs arms were pulled back behind her by one of the men. The other two eyed him anxiously, guns drawn.
Heedless of their threat, he boldly walked straight up to Chloe. Reaching out, he stroked her cheek, lightly touching the small bit of blood from a cut on her cheekbone.
His clever girl deliberately shifted her eyes to the man with the bleached hair before looking back at him. That was the man whoâd hit her. Logan couldnât wait to break both his arms.
âBack away from the prisoner,â said the first man, the one with KILL tattooed across his right knuckles.
âDo you know who I am?â asked Logan in a conversational tone as his narrowed gaze fell on each man individually.
The third man, his mouth filled with gold-capped teeth, answered, dropping the pretense of their disguise. âYeah. We know. Our boss doesnât want any trouble. Weâre just here to take the girl and the drive. This doesnât involve you anymore.â
Logan chuckled as he slowly cracked his knuckles, one by one. âOh, this wonât be any trouble at all. Iâm going to kill each one of you and then continue on with the job.â
The three men exchanged worried glances.
Logan had a fierce reputation on both sides; legal and not-so-legal. He was certain that if fifteen million wasnât at stake, this particular gang would not have knowingly waded in on his territory. Whatever Mexican gang or cartel this was, they had balls; he would give them that.
âIn case you canât count bro, thereâs three of us and only one of you, and I donât see any gun,â said the bleached blond as he pointed his Five-seveN at Logan.
Logan nodded his agreement. âFunny thing about guns. It gives assholes a false sense of their own abilities.â
Loganâs hand struck out, grabbing the closest manâs gun as he planted his right foot to the side, and pulled with all his weight. The gang member with the tattooed knuckles lurched forward. As he tumbled to the ground from tripping over Loganâs foot, Logan maintained his grip on the gun. Holding the manâs arm outstretched, he stepped on the elbow joint, breaking it. The man screamed in agony. Logan kicked him in the jaw, his heavy biker boots striking the surprisingly fragile bone and breaking it as well, knocking the man unconscious.
Picking up a large rock near the edge of the driveway, Logan turned to bleach blond. âYour turn,â he said ominously. His eyes narrowed their focus on the gang member whoâd hit Chloe. As the man raised his gun, Logan hefted the large rock at his head, striking him in the temple. The man staggered back; Logan grabbed the gun with his left hand and the manâs wrist with his right. He twisted both hands clockwise, breaking the manâs wrist. As beach blond reached for his broken wrist, Logan grabbed the manâs arm and twisted it painfully behind his back until he heard the bone snap. The man fell to his knees in agony.
Logan retrieved the manâs gun and turned it on him. âYour co-workers here? Iâll let live. You? You touched my woman.â
âPlease,â the man simpered as his broken arms hung limply.
Without pause, ignoring his pathetic pleas, Logan pulled the triggerâ¦just to the right of the kneeling man, into the dirt.
A dark stain spread across the front of the manâs pants a moment before he collapsed in a heap. Fainting from fear or pain, probably both. Logan smirked. That should send enough of a message.
He turned in time to see Chloe attack her assailant. The man had her around the throat. First she stepped on his foot. When he released his grip, she bent in half. Swiveling her torso, she viciously elbowed the man in each kidney. The moment he was distracted from the pain, she turned in his arms. Resting her hands on the manâs shoulders for leverage, she drew up her knee and nailed him square in the groin. The man howled in pain as he doubled over, clutching his middle, but Loganâs feisty little fighter wasnât done with the Mexican gang member yet. Grabbing the bent over man by the hair on the back of his head, she brought her knee up a second time, breaking his nose. The man fell to the ground, beaten.
âDamn, babygirl. You unmanned him,â said Logan with pride.
Chloe limped toward Logan. Rubbing her lower leg, she complained, âBefore the bleached gangland Barbie over there slapped my face, that one kicked me in the shin. What kind of schoolyard bullshit is that? You know how much it hurts to be kicked in the shin?â
Logan wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her in for a quick kiss. âDonât ever change, my dark angel.â
Chloe blushed from the endearment.
Recovering, she grumbled as she rubbed her leg. âThis is totally going to bruise.â
âIâll kiss your boo-boo and make it better later, for now I have to get these assholes tied up. Are your bags packed?â
She nodded yes.
Logan raised an eyebrow. âHow many bags? You didnât fill more than that box with your work tools did you?â
Chloe shook her head no. âJust the box and my pink gym bag.â
âGood girl.â Logan tossed her his keys. âLoad them up in my truck while I clean up this mess.â
âAre youâ¦are you going to kill them?â she asked hesitantly.
âThey are very bad men, baby,â he reasoned.
Chloe shook her head yes.
âBut no, theyâre worth more as leverage.â
âLeverage?â
âYouâll see.â
One by one Logan dragged the limp bodies into a small shed across from the garage. From the look of it, it had been used for butchering when this property was used for hunting by her late uncle.
Perfect, thought Logan.
Securing the menâs wrists with rope, he hung each of them from the sturdy metal hooks which dangled from the ceiling. Hooks usually used to bleed the hunterâs kill. He then secured their ankles. He didnât bother to gag them. The cabin was so remote no one would hear their cries for help, but that wouldnât stop them from screaming themselves hoarse trying.
Since the earliest Logan would send someone to retrieve them was late tomorrow, they would probably all have permanent nerve damage from dangling so long by their arms. He doubted any of the three gang members would be able to hold a gun or threaten another unarmed woman again.
A fitting punishment.
That is if their own gang let them live after this bungled job.
An even more fitting punishment, thought Logan.
He left the dark, dank shed. Closing the double doors, he found a large, sturdy stick and drove it through the metal handles, securing the door as an extra precaution.
They would stay put until Logan had a chance to use them against both his client and the Columbians.
Chloe was already waiting for him in his 4-Runner. He hopped into the driverâs side. He gave her hand a playful slap when she reached for the radio.
âThere is one major rule in my truck. Only I touch the radio,â he teased.
âPlease donât tell me you likeâ¦â The rest of her sentence was a groan as the opening strains of some country song belted over the airwaves.
âBuckle your seatbelt, little lady. We have a long ride.â
They rode in silence for at least five hours, both alone with their own thoughts. Hours spent listening to country songs with lyrics about a wholesome America filled with love, horses and picket fences. About an existence neither of them had ever known.
When he turned onto the Skyway, Chloe turned to him in confusion. âAre we going to Chicago? I would have thoughtâ¦wellâ¦â
Logan laughed. âWhat? You figured I was taking you to some safe house? Maybe a small farm in the middle of Kentucky?â
Chloe twisted her finger around the cord of the hoodie she had folded on her lap. âWellâ¦yes!â
Logan ran his knuckles down her cheek before grasping one silken brown curl and giving it a playful tug. âNo, baby. Thatâs only in the movies. The safest place to hide is in plain sight in the middle of a crowd. Besides, my client is in Chicago.â
She gave him a side glance.
âAre you going to tell me who it is?â
âI think itâs best you donât know. The less you know about this mess, the safer you will be in the long run.â
They both slipped back into a pensive silence.
An hour later, the distinctive outline of the Chicago skyline came into view. They rolled down Lakeshore Drive. Lake Michigan appeared dark and foreboding with only the occasional whitecap in the fading light. Loganâs black 4-Runner pulled up to the valet at the Drake Hotel.
âThe Drake?â amused Chloe. âWell, I guess there goes another assumption.â
Logan spared her a quick glance. âI canât stand two-bit motels. Crappy beds and no room service.â
Chloe laughed as she got out of the truck.
âLeave it out front,â instructed Logan to the valet as he handed him a twenty.
The valet nodded as he quickly pocketed the hefty tip. âYes, sir.â
Logan waved away the porter who tried to unload their bags. âI got them.â
As they spun through the revolving door and walked up the royal blue carpeted stairs, Logan watched her look of wonder as the ornate lobby came into view.
Chloe blushed when she saw his regard.
âSorry. Iâve never really stayed in a place so luxurious. I mean Iâve stayed at nice hotels, just not the kind that have flower arrangements the size of small cars and porters dressed like little organ monkeys.â She giggled.
Logan placed a protective hand on her lower back as he guided her to the reception desk.
âWeâll take a suite for the night.â
âYes, sir. Credit card and ID please.â
Logan fished the cards out of his wallet. Trying to keep Chloe from reading the names, he placed them face down on the counter.
After several minutes of tapping at keys, the front desk manager handed back his cards. âI have you booked for a suite on our third floor. Here are your two key cards. I hope you enjoy your stay, Mr.ââ
Logan cut the woman off. âThank you. We will.â
Ignoring Chloeâs questioning look, he motioned to the elevators.
When they arrived at the room, he leaned over her shoulder, slid the card key into the lock and opened the door. Shouldering her pink gym bag and his black duffel, Logan preceded her inside the room, doing a quick sweep of the parlor area, bedroom and bathroom.
âYou donât think a gang member is lurking behind the shower curtain do you?â
âForce of habit,â Logan said as he dropped the bags on the floor.
The hotel room fell silent. Logan stood across from Chloe, taking in the sight of her. It was the first time he had been able to breathe easy since heâd heard her scream from across the woods earlier that afternoon.
He took a step toward her a moment before she ran into his arms. Spearing his fingers into her dark tresses, Logan angled her head back. Staring down into her expressive, stormy gray eyes, he said, âDonât ever scare your daddy like that again.â
Tears spiked her eyelashes. âIâll try not to.â
His mouth took possession of hers. Forcing his tongue past her lips, he tasted deeply. His tongue swirled and teased her own. Lightly rubbing his teeth against her plump lower lip, he rasped against her mouth. âIâm going to fuck you till you forget everything from today but my touch.â
Chloe moaned as he palmed her breast through the thin fabric of her babydoll t-shirt. Rubbing his thumb over the erect nipple, Logan walked forward, thrusting her against the wall. Placing both hands high above her head, he ground his hips against her own. He groaned from the pressure as his hard cock was squeezed between their bodies. He took her mouth again.
Biting. Tasting.
Lowering his arms, he ran his hands over her ribcage, pushing up her t-shirt. The moment her breasts were exposed, he leaned down to suck one pink nipple into his mouth, nipping it with his teeth, while he palmed the other. Inhaling deeply, he took in the warm vanilla scent of her skin. With a growl, he ripped the t-shirt over her head. Opening his mouth, Logan sucked on the delicate skin of her neck.
Biting. Tasting.
Her hands clutched at his hair, pulling hard. The kiss of pain just spurred him on.
Tearing at her jeans, he slipped the brass button through its hole and lowered the zipper. Driving his right hand between her legs, he palmed her pussy while his left hand pushed on the fabric, lowering the jeans to her ankles. Pushing one then two fingers into her wet heat, he thrust them in and out while his thumb caressed her clit.
âOh god! Oh god!â Her open mouth skated along his flesh, kissing the blood red petals of his tattoo.
Logan reached under her knees and lifted her high, bracing her against the wall with the pressure from his hips. As she wrapped her legs around his middle, he reached between them, under her right leg and lowered the zipper of his jeans. His cock sprang free, hard and wanting. Grabbing onto her thighs, he shifted his hips till the head of his cock was at the tight entrance, teasing her.
âWhoâs your daddy?â he growled.
âYou areâ¦oh god! You are!â
Chloe screamed as he speared her with his cock. Pressing her against the hard surface of the wall, he pummeled into her welcoming cunt, feeling her tight muscles clench and grasp at his shaft. He licked at a small drop of sweat as it glistened between her breasts. He felt as if he were an animal crazed with lust. The need to possess and mark her was strong. Without thought, Logan bit down on her shoulder. Her cry of pain sent him into a frenzy. He licked at the faint red crescent marks.
âDo it again. Make it hurt,â she begged.
Logan opened his mouth over the top of her breast. Pulling her soft flesh between his lips, sucking, he bit down again.
Marking her again.
Throwing his head back with a roar, he thrust harder. Pounding into her small frame. Dominating her with brute strength.
âSay it,â he ground out through clenched teeth as he felt his balls tighten. His stomach contracted with need. âSay it.â
âFuck me, Daddy,â she breathed against his neck. âCum inside your little girl.â
With a guttural shout, he released deep inside her.
Marking her with his seed.
The cries of her release mixed with his heavy breathing. Clasping his arms about her, he turned. Keeping his cock buried inside her cunt, he collapsed on the bed, rolling with her in his arms. Pinning her beneath him, he brushed back her hair. Taking in her swollen lips and flushed cheeks, he felt a surge of primal possession.
She was his and heâd be damned if he let anyoneâ¦anyoneâ¦harm her again.
An hour later, Logan was dressed in a fresh shirt and pair of jeans. He had tucked Chloe into bed. Giving her a kiss on the forehead, he said, âI will be a few hours. Do not leave this room. You can order room service but no junk food.â
Chloe pouted. âWhatâs the fun in ordering hotel room service if you canât order junk food?â
âI mean it young lady. Something healthy.â
She gave him a cheeky grin. âIs a cheeseburger healthy?â
Flicking the tip of her nose, he said, âOrder it and you will find out my answer when I get back.â
His grasping the buckle of his belt as he responded told Chloe all she needed to know about what his answer would be.
Opening the door, Logan tossed over his shoulder, âAnd no grown-up movies. I expect to see a Disney cartoon on the hotel invoice.â
Chloe snuggled further into the blankets with a smile. He waited till he saw her lift the remote and start to search under kidsâ movies before closing the door.