7. Logan

SEVEN

I'm scared.Terrified. More than I've ever been in my life. This can't be real. I have to be dreaming. Any second now, I'll wake up in my comfortable bed, in my safe little apartment, and I'll laugh at how ridiculous my imagination is.

Why won't I wake the fuck up?

Jay isn't helping. He's saying things I don't understand. Throwing the Bad Man into a cave? The Marshals are coming? Making him wish he was dead? What does any of that mean?

Then the Bad Man calls Jay an old friend. They know each other. They're friends. Were they partners in crime who turned on each other?

Oh god, I've been sleeping with a criminal, haven't I? Maybe Jay didn't find out I was stalking him. Maybe his friend did instead. And now he's getting rid of both of us because Jay's compromised their criminal operations and I've become a liability.

I've been such an idiot. I've been going about my life so blissfully ignorant. Not once did I suspect Jay might not be who he said he was. Not once did I wonder whether he was lying to me. I accepted everything he told me at face value, like a fool.

I don't recognize the man sitting in the middle of the room. Eyes burning with rage and fury. Lips curled into an ugly snarl. This isn't the man I've been dating for the past six months.

My Jay is kind and warm, funny and teasing. My Jay wouldn't think twice about spending the day snuggling in bed.

This man doesn't look like he'd be caught near anything as comfortable as a bed. He's so full of bitterness, I can taste it. There's so much hate in the way he's holding himself, it radiates off him. His face is twisted up in an expression so hostile his features don't even look the same anymore.

Who is this man? What has he done with the Jay I fell in love with? Or maybe this is who he really is.

The Bad Man's gaze is like a laser beam of ice as it glides across the room. I know the instant it locks on to me. It's cold, more frigid than the deepest winter, and it burrows through my skin, freezing me from the inside out. I was shivering before—now I'm shaking.

"Hmm." The Bad Man stands and saunters over to me. I try to wriggle away, but I don't get far.

"Stay away from him! Don't touch him!"

He ignores Jay and crouches down in front of me, tilting his head so he can get a better view of my face. I try to hide from him, ducking my chin to my chest and curling in around myself. If I can't see him, then maybe he can't see me. If I can't see him, then maybe this whole thing will go away.

"Now, now, there's no reason to be shy."

Then suddenly, rough hands are on my arms, wrenching me up. I cry out as they force me to my knees. Pain explodes deep inside the joints, sharp and piercing, and if it wasn't for the goon holding me up, I would've collapsed again. Have I fractured my kneecaps? I landed hard enough when they threw me onto the concrete floor. It hurts so much that tears spring to my eyes, pouring down my cheeks.

The Bad Man rises to his feet. He takes hold of my chin, almost gently, and lifts it so I'm facing him. The touch is revolting and I shudder in disgust. I try to wrench it out of his grasp, but he just tsks and tightens his grip. I keep my eyes squeezed tightly shut, tears still leaking through my lashes. I can't bear to meet his cold, dead gaze.

"Don't touch him! Get your hands off him!"

The Bad Man continues as if Jay isn't even in the room.

"You've been calling him Jay." It takes me a second to realize the Bad Man is speaking to me. "I assumed it was merely a nickname, an endearment between lovers. But that's not the case, is it? Hmm, no, I don't think so. I don't think that's the case at all. Tell me, Logan, do you know who you've been taking to bed all these months?"

"Logan! Logan, look at me! Babe, please."

I shouldn't listen to him. The Bad Man is right. I don't know who he is. I don't know a single thing about him. He's most likely just as evil as the Bad Man himself. And yet… and yet, there's something in Jay's voice that grabs ahold of me. There's something in his pleas that's familiar, that calls to me.

I blink past my tears and risk a peek in his direction.

He's still straining against his bonds. His eyes are still intensely focused and fierce. He still radiates hate and anger and loathing. But my heart yearns for him all the same.

"Logan, please. You know me." His voice cracks and my heart breaks. There's so much regret and remorse in the way he says my name. I can hear his anguish, his guilt, and I'm helpless in the face of it. "You know me."

I still love him. Or maybe I love the person I think he is. I might not know his real name, or what he does for a living. I might not have met his friends or know anything about his family. But the person I fell in love with? I have to believe he's real. I have to trust my heart when it tells me he's still in there. I won't make it out of this if I don't.

At the very least, I can trust Jay—or whatever the hell his name is—more than I can ever trust this creep standing in front of me. If I have to choose between the two, there's no question who I'll side with.

"I do," I say, surprised at how sure I sound despite the tremor in my voice and the tears still rolling down my cheeks. "Of course, I do."

Jay nods in agreement, in reassurance, and even though I have no reason to, I draw a modicum of comfort from it.

The Bad Man looks over his shoulder toward Jay, then back at me. "Do you, now? So it'll come as no surprise to you that his name is Jared Sable."

I flinch at the unfamiliar name. I've never heard it before, but I can see the truth in his eyes as he keeps them trained on me. His name really is Jared.

"And that he is a special agent with the FBI."

Jay—no, Jared works his jaw back and forth, but there's no change in the determination in his eyes. So that's true too. He's with the FBI. He's an FBI agent. That means he's one of the good guys, right? That means he's not a criminal, right?

A tiny seed of hope, irrational and unrealistic, unfurls in me. If Jared's an FBI Agent, then he'll know how to get us out of this. He'll know how to fight and shoot a gun and take down the bad guys. If he's with the FBI, they'll come looking for him—for us. They might be looking for us already. There's hope. Maybe we can get out of this alive.

"You are aware that he has a lauded career with the Bureau," the Bad Man continues as if this conversation is in any way normal. "How long has it been, Agent Sable? Hmm? Ten years? Fifteen?"

"None of your goddamn business," Jared spits out, but his gaze never wavers from mine.

The Bad Man chuckles and his voice turns dark—darker. "You must know that he spent two years—two whole years—undercover in my organization." He leans a little closer and tightens his hold on my chin even as I try to pull away.

His face is inches from mine when he speaks again and his breath smells vile. "Of course, you know what that means, don't you? It means he did very illegal, very criminal things to gain my trust," he hisses at me.

I recoil at the words "illegal" and "criminal." I don't know if that's true, but if he's an FBI agent, then he must have had good reasons for it. I've seen the TV shows. I've watched the movies. I know undercover agents sometimes have to do unsavory things to maintain their covers and catch the bad guys.

"Don't listen to him, Logan. He doesn't know what he's talking about." Jared sounds strangled. He sounds desperate.

"Oh, I assure you, I know exactly what I'm talking about."

The Bad Man tears his hand away from my chin so forcefully my head snaps to the side. The goon is still holding me in an iron grip, so my neck wrenches painfully. But at least he isn't touching me anymore. At least he doesn't have his filthy hands on me.

I awkwardly wipe my chin against my shoulder, my chest, as if I can physically wipe away any traces of the rat.

But the Bad Man isn't done. "Did he tell you what he did? Hmm, Logan? Did your precious Jay tell you about my wife and my eight-year-old son? How he slaughtered them? Riddled them with bullets in our own backyard. Innocents, both of them, mercilessly gunned down by this man."

He points a finger in Jared's face. And Jared is seething so hard he could probably lunge forward and bite the damn thing off.

"That's not how it happened." Jared grits out between his teeth.

I don't know what they're talking about anymore. What wife? What son? How could anyone ever marry a snake like this? Never mind have a kid with him?

"Oh? Is that so? Then please do tell us, Agent Sable—" He spits out Jared's name like he's bitten into a piece of moldy fruit. "—how did it happen?"

I don't understand. Is he saying Jared killed his wife and son? No, that can be true. Please, don't let that be true. Maybe it was self-defense. Maybe they were resisting arrest. Maybe it was an accident. Or maybe it didn't happen at all and the Bad Man is making it all up.

I stare at Jared, face wet with tears, silently begging him to deny it all. The Bad Man has lost his mind and this is some crazy delusion. Jared didn't kill people. He isn't a murderer.

But Jared doesn't deny it. "I didn't know they would be there."

A fresh wave of tears spills from my eyes and snot runs out of my nose.

What is Jared saying? Is it true then? He did kill the Bad Man's wife and kid? No. No, that can't be right. There has to be another explanation.

The Bad Man doesn't look appeased at Jared's admission. If anything, he looks even more infuriated.

"That was their home." His voice is so quiet, I can barely hear him. And yet, the words still slice through me like a sharp piece of ice. "Where else did you expect them to be?"

"They were supposed to be visiting Elena's parents."

SMACK.

I jump and gasp, not even sure what I'm reacting to until Jared spits out a mouthful of blood. The Bad Man slapped him—backhanded him. Jared's lip is cut and there's a long scratch across his cheek from the Bad Man's ring.

"No! Don't touch him! Get away from him!" I yell at the top of my lungs, struggling against the hands gripping my arms.

But the Bad Man isn't listening to me. "Don't you say her name, you filthy piece of swine. Her name is too good to be soiled by your traitorous, disgusting lips."

Jared glares up at him, a hard glint in his eyes that wasn't there a moment before. He sneers at the Bad Man. "What she didn't deserve was to be stuck with a deranged monster like you."

SMACK.

Jared's head snaps sideways and I scream. "No! Stop! Please! Stop!"

I try to kick at the man holding me, but all he does is drop me to the floor. I land with an oomph that expels all the air from my lungs. "No. Please. Stop," I sob through the tears.

"Did you really think you could keep them safe?" Jared taunts him, voice bitter and spiteful. "You had enemies, Alonzo, you still do. They would've gotten to Elena and Manuel at some point."

What is Jared doing? Why is he provoking the guy? He's already so unhinged, vibrating with murderous rage.

"What kind of life would that have been for them? Always looking over their shoulders because of their relationship with you."

The Bad Man goes berserk. He launches himself at Jared with a deafening bellow that completely drowns out my screaming pleas to sop.

He punches Jared. In the face, in the stomach. Over and over and there's nothing Jared can do to protect himself. He has no way of fighting back.

"No! No! Stop! You bastard! You son of a bitch! You piece of shit!"

He's going to kill Jared. Then he's going to kill me. Is this how it ends? Is this how we die?

"He's FBI! You won't get away with this! They'll find you! They'll kill you too!"

The Bad Man lands one more punch, sending Jared's head snapping backward with a sickening crunch. Then Jared slumps into the chair, limp and lifeless.

"No! Fuck you! Fuck you, you fucking asshole!" Hands heave me off the floor and drag me toward the door. I kick furiously at them, but meet mostly air. "Don't touch me! Let me go! Jay! Jay! Jay!"

"Oh, shut him up."

I don't see the fist coming. But I do feel the burst of pain across my already injured temple right before the world goes black.