9. Logan

NINE

I said I can walk,but I'm honestly not sure if I can. My knees ache from when the muscle heads dropped me on the floor earlier. And I'm shaking so hard my legs can barely hold me upright.

I really thought Jared was dead. When I woke up in that room again, alone and in the dark, I really thought it was over. Jared was dead and I would never learn who he actually was. The bad guys would come back and kill me next. I lay on that floor and cried until I had no more tears.

Then the door opened and in walked Jared—my hero, my savior. Sure, he's still a lying liar who lied to me for months, but he's got a good reason. He's an FBI agent. We just need to get the fuck out of this hell hole and he'll explain everything. And maybe he'll overlook my little foray into stalking. After all, what's a bit of stalking compared to lying to your boyfriend for months? As long as this whole abduction thing isn't my fault. I'm still not entirely convinced it's not.

I cling to Jared's arm as he leads us toward the door.

"Stay behind me at all times," Jared whispers. "Duck when I say duck, run when I say run. I'll get us out of here, okay?"

I nod, then remember he can't see me. "Yes, okay." Even though everything inside me is screaming "No, absolutely fucking not." But it's either follow Jared into whatever danger is waiting for us out there or stay in this dark, empty room. It's no contest.

He pulls the door open slowly and I jump at the scraping sound it makes. It's loud enough that the bad guys have to have heard it. Jared doesn't seem concerned though. He slips through the crack in the door and motions for me to follow him.

My feet don't move. They're glued to the floor. This is the absolute last place in the world I want to be. I want to get as far away from here as humanly possible. And yet, my feet won't fucking move. What the hell is wrong with me? Why am I stuck?

Jared gazes at me through the opening of the door. The dim light in the hallway shows just how much damage Alonzo and the goons did to him. He's caked in blood and dirt and covered in cuts and bruises. And yet he looks so confident, so sure of himself. As if he gets abducted every day. As if breaking out of holding cells and escaping bad guys is a common occurrence. Who knows? Maybe it is. He is an FBI agent after all.

There's so much I don't know about him, so much I want to learn. A part of me still feels like I know him, but I want to know more. I want to know everything.

And that's not going to happen if we stay here.

"Come on, Logan." He holds his hand out. It's caked in blood too. His wrists are all chewed up and raw. But underneath all that grime are the same strong fingers that have held me close and made me feel loved.

I put my hand in his and when his fingers close around mine, they give me the courage I need to step out of the darkness.

Jared heads immediately for the double doors at one end of the hallway. They're heavy and metal, but they've got windows in the upper half that show an equally empty and dimly lit hallway on the other side. It branches off in opposite directions.

Jared sticks close to the wall, slightly crouched, walking fast. His grip on my hand is tight and reassuring. In his other hand is a long metal bar. I don't want to think about how he's planning on using it.

Jared pauses a few feet before the door. "Wait here." He steps away, but I don't let go of his hand until he's too far for me to reach.

He nudges open one door far enough to peer around it and glances left and right. Then he motions me forward. We slip through and go left.

It's eerily quiet, with only the muted shuffle of our footsteps to break the silence. Not all of the lights are working, leaving patches of dark along the hallway. The walls are made of concrete blocks, painted in industrial white.

All the doors are made of the same solid metal, and some have signs on them. Lots of them are labs, and some of them are utility rooms or storage rooms. Then there's the Test Elimination Room, whatever the fuck that's supposed to be. And the Waste Cooling Room—what kind of waste needs to be cooled? And finally, the Deprivation Decontamination Room. I don't want to know.

Jared leads us through a maze of hallways and the farther we go, the jumpier I get. Where are all the bad guys? Have they just left us here? Why would they go to all the trouble of kidnapping us only to leave us unguarded?

With every corner we turn, every time no one tries to obstruct our way, I become more and more convinced they're hiding around the next bend. They're biding their time, seeing how far we get.

If Jared has the same fear, he doesn't show it. He slows at each corner to check what's around it, then charges forward, never hesitating. He seems to know exactly where we are and where we're going.

And then my fears come true.

We slow at another corner, but instead of a quick pause, Jared freezes. He raises a finger to his lips. My heart lodges in my throat. My stomach drops to the floor. Fear grips me so tightly that I can't breathe.

Footsteps—more than one set. Faint at first, then growing louder, echoing through the empty hallway. They're coming our way.

Jared gestures for me to back up a few steps, then silently mouths to me, "Stay here."

I nod jerkily, plastering myself to the wall. I don't think I could go anywhere, even if I wanted to.

Then Jared inches back toward the corner, metal bar held firmly in both hands.

Oh god, they're going to find us. Jared will try to fight them, but he's injured. They'll overpower him, then drag us back to those rooms where they'll beat us to a pulp for trying to escape. I squeeze my eyes shut and bite my lip to keep myself from crying out loud.

The footsteps grow louder and are soon joined by the sound of quiet voices. They get closer and closer and suddenly Jared jumps into action.

I've underestimated him and what he can do with a simple metal bar. His movements are quick and sure. He takes advantage of the element of surprise, attacking before the men even know he's there.

He swings the bar, hitting one guy across the head, then jams the bar into the other's guy stomach. They try to fight back, two-against-one, with Jared already injured. But either they have no idea how to fight or Jared's got superior hand-to-hand combat skills.

I watch in fascinated horror as he dispatches them both with deadly efficiency. They lay in heaps on the ground while Jared braces himself against the wall, breathing hard.

I rush to him. "Oh my god, are you okay? Did they hurt you?"

He shakes his head. "No, I'm fine," he says, even though he's grimacing and clearly in pain. He takes several deep breaths before tossing the bar to the side. Then he hobbles over to the two bodies.

"Are… are they dead?" I ask, still plastered to the wall, trying to stay as far away from them as possible.

"No," Jared says as he frisks them. "Just unconscious. They'll come around."

Tiny bursts of relief and disappointment struggle for dominance. Killing people is bad. But also, I don't think I'd be sad if these two were dead.

Jared unhooks a set of keys from one of their belt loops and stuffs it into his own pocket. He takes their guns and glances at me.

"Do you know how to use one of these?"

I shake my head frantically. I've never even touched a gun before and I really don't want to start now.

Jared simply nods and does that clicky-shifty thing I've seen actors do on TV. He tucks one into the waistband at the small of his back and keeps the other in his hand.

He gives them one last pat down and extracts their phones. Phones! We can call for help!

"Fuck. No service."

Fuck.

Jared jams both phones into his pocket and then adjusts his grip on the gun, holding it in both hands and pointing it at the floor. "Come on. Let's go."

Leaving two bodies behind feels weird. But I also don't want to be around when they wake up. God, I hope they stay unconscious for a good long time.

I hurry after Jared, sticking as close as I possibly can. I can't help looking over my shoulder every few steps, keeping my ears trained on any sounds coming from behind us. I'm so preoccupied with the two bad guys I almost crash into Jared when he stops in front of another set of double doors. I only get a brief glimpse through the window before he pushes me back against the wall.

It looks like a big room, like a warehouse or something. There are crates scattered throughout the space and a few vehicles parked at the far end. In the middle are a bunch of tables and a handful of bad guys.

I slide down the wall until I'm huddled in a ball on the floor. We can't go out that way. They'll see us as soon as we step through the door. We'll need to find another way out. But we've already come all this way. What if there isn't another exit?

Jared crouches next to me and pulls out one of the phones. "Yes, finally."

"Is there a signal? Can you call for help?"

"Only one bar, but it might be enough." He taps on the screen, then holds it to his ear.

"This is Special Agent Jared Sable with the FBI. I'm at an unknown location with a civilian. We were abducted by the fugitive Alonzo Adams. Trace this line and dispatch units to my location immediately and alert Agent Victoria Collins of the situation."

Then he slips the phone back into his pocket and turns to me.

"All right, here's the plan. We need to go through there." He nods at the doors.

"What? No—" I try to scramble away but land on my ass instead. "You called people. Told them to send help. Why can't we just wait for them to get here?"

"Because I don't know how long it'll take. And every second we spend here puts us more at risk."

"No, but, but, we can hide! This place is big!"

"Logan." He helps me back onto my feet and keeps his hand firmly on my shoulder. The weight of it is grounding, settling. "Listen to me. Alonzo's going to know something's up when those two dipshits back there don't check-in. Then they'll come searching for us. We don't want that to happen."

His expression is so grave it sends another flare of fear through me. No, I don't want to see that lunatic ever again. I definitely don't want to find out what he'll do when he discovers we've escaped.

"Our only option is to go through there. We'll need to steal one of those cars at the other end of the warehouse."

My gaze snaps to the window, even though I can't see through it from my position near the floor. "What? Are you crazy?! We can't make it all the way over there. They'll see us!"

"Yes, they will. Which means we need to make a run for it."

"That's insane! We can't outrun bullets!" Fear spirals as a bubble of panic rises in my chest.

Jared leans in, gaze boring into me. "Look at me, Logan, you can do this. I know you can. I'll provide cover and you run like your life depends on it."

"Because it does!" I croak, shaking my head. My heart is racing. My stomach is churning. I don't think I can stand up straight, never mind running across a warehouse while bad guys are shooting bullets at me. "I can't. I can't do this."

"Yes, you can," Jared growls, giving me a little shake. "You still have to yell at me for being a lying asshole, remember? You can't do that if we're still trapped in here."

Tears stream down my face. I don't know what to do. Jared needs me to be brave and courageous. But that's not who I am. I'm not a tough guy, not an FBI agent. I make smoothies for gym bros. I can't do what he's asking.

Lips smash across my own. Demanding and fierce. The smell of blood, sweat, and dirt fills my nose, but underneath all that is a scent I recognize. Earthy, warm, familiar, safe—Jay.

He's in there somewhere. Under the grime and shit of this ordeal, beneath the hard shell of a seasoned FBI agent, behind all the lies that still exist between us, the man I love is in there. I cling to the memory, to the last trace of the man I thought I knew, the slim possibility that I'll be able to find him again.

Jared pulls back and I look into his eyes. They're golden brown and they sparkle when the light shines just right. At the moment, they're dark, deep pools that suck me in.

"You can do this, Logan. I know you can."

I disagree, but if Jared thinks I can, then I choose to believe him.

"Okay, let's do it."