Chasing Impossible Page 60

I had stayed awake, yet drifted into subconscious thought. Thinking of my grandmother, wondering what would happen to her, wondering if Logan would visit her if I died. Then pretended that I was with him. Not bound. Not blindfolded. Not on my way to face death.

I shift and something falls off me. The hair on my arms stands on end with the coolness of the car that sweeps over my skin and my mind can’t process why my captors would cover my arms—my body. Like they care.

Another door slamming shut and I strain to hear anything that could help me. Sounds of cars passing on a highway, conversation, anything, but once again nothing.

They’ll expect me to fight when they open the door. They’ll be prepared. I’ll go limp. Be heavy. Hit them when they least expect it.

A steady tingle of fear in my blood and my mouth dries out—they’ve been out of the car too long and I can’t decide if these extra few minutes are a gift or a curse.

Warm air swirls in as the door near my head opens. I work at keeping my breathing steady and try to ignore my pulse that’s beating hard in my ears. They would assume I fell asleep, could possibly believe I still am. Let them lower their defenses. They’ll find out soon enough I bite.

The urge is to breathe out slowly for calmness, but I don’t. I don’t want to die. Not like this. Not today. I don’t want to die in a worse way. I don’t want to be hurt. I don’t want to be defiled. I don’t want...

A gentle touch against my forehead, my hair being swept away. My throat thickens and the blindfold is removed, but my eyes remain shut.

“Abby.”

My eyes shoot open and my breath is caught in my chest. It’s Logan. Two swift heartbeats. Logan found me. I struggle up, but the seat belt keeps me in place. “Be careful. There’s two of them and they’re with Eric.”

Logan reaches over and undoes the seat belt and my head whips in the other direction as Isaiah opens the other door and swears.

“They tied her up,” Logan says in a low tone.

“We got to keep this steady.” But there’s a wildness in Isaiah’s eyes that can mean pain for the people he’s pissed at.

I breathe out, but then I’m filled with dread. My best friend and the boy I care for are here and I’m putting them in danger. “You shouldn’t have followed.”

Isaiah undoes my feet as Logan undoes my hands. They’re calm, solid, moving methodically—unhurried and I feel like I’m about to explode out of my skin. “We’ve got to hurry.”

Logan holds his hand out to me. I take it and he’s careful as he helps me out of the car. It’s dark. So incredibly dark. Black like I’ve never seen. Our only light coming from the interior cab light and then the lights blaring on us from another car—from Isaiah’s car.

I edge closer to Logan as I search for Eric’s boys, for our way out of this scenario. Logan cups my face with his strong hands and studies the wound on my head and then moves my shirt to the side to check out my bullet wound. “Are you okay? In pain? Did he hurt you?”

I shiver despite the warm summer night and wish Logan would start to run. “They could come back.”

“We’re right here,” Eric’s voice says in the night.

I circle toward Eric’s voice and Logan slips an arm around my waist, bringing me closer to him and Isaiah’s Mustang. Shifting of movement everywhere and the game pieces are all in play. Eric and one of his guys are near their car. Me, Logan, and Isaiah across what I wish was a canyon.

Eric assesses me and not in his typical dirty way. “I tried to make you comfortable.”

The jacket over me as I drifted. I quickly glance at Logan and Isaiah, hoping they can catch me up on all that I’m missing, but they keep their attention glued to Eric. They aren’t poised to strike, but they aren’t lowering their defenses, either.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

Eric shoves his hands in his pockets and looks right—he’s right-handed and that makes his following words feel like a punch to the stomach. “I owed you—for keeping me safe. Now, I don’t owe you anymore.”

“You kidnapped me.” I lunge, but Logan’s arm tightens, keeping me from going forward.

Eric shrugs. “I gave you the option of easy, you didn’t take it.”

“Did you forget that you had me shot?”

Eric shakes his head like he’s disgusted. “And they say you’re smart. Think it through. There are hundreds of times I could have taken you out over the years and I didn’t. Explain to me the benefit of killing you.”

Exhaustion creeps up on me and I hate having to lean into Logan. His body is warm and strong and he runs his hand along my side as a silent I’m here. I keep having to rely on this boy, and each time it just makes it harder to let him go again.

“Explain things to me,” I whisper to Logan.

“Eric came to me and Isaiah,” he mutters back. “Said he had you, that you were in danger, and that if we wanted to keep you safe to meet him here.”

“Where’s here?” I ask.

“We’re at the hiking trails parking lot for Jefferson County Forest,” Eric says. This means we’re still near Louisville. “You need to get out of town, Abby.”

“Why?” I demand, but a sinking sensation similar to falling from a cliff informs me I already know the answer, and it’s not one that I want to face.

“We were ambushed that night—in the alley. That was Ricky trying to make a move. Won’t lie, he made some serious cuts, but he didn’t take me down. What happened to you in the alley—I didn’t order that, and my boys were too busy trying to save themselves to worry about hunting down someone belonging to Ricky’s crew.”