Logan (Federal Protection Agency #9)

Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

Clay

The California landscape rolled past the window, sunny and bright like it had been snatched right off a postcard. I sat in the passenger seat in the car, pretending to watch the scenery when I was actually using the reflection in the window to study the man in the driver’s seat next to me.

His dark hair was pushed back into a windswept style that probably took a lot more effort to create than it looked. He had a healthy tan complexion that seemed to be a mix of regular sun exposure and natural coloration. Even when his face was neutral, his expression emanated warm friendliness, like he’d never known anything but happiness in his life. This was only emphasized by his light brown eyes that glinted with specks of gold in the sunlight.

He’d introduced himself as Logan Hollingsworth.

It was a mouthful of a name for a seemingly straightforward man. He’d promised to take me to Maryland so I could reunite with my brother, and that seemed to be exactly what he was doing.

I didn’t trust it.

People didn’t give away so much as five dollars without an ulterior motive. There was no way this man was going to drive me all the way from one side of the country to the other without getting something out of it.

So why had I gone with him so easily?

A few kind words and I’d eagerly piled my entire life into his car. I was usually much more careful, but somehow this man had gotten past my defenses and convinced me to come with him before I even realized what I was agreeing to.

Well, I questioned why I trusted him, but I already knew the answer. I’d come with him because I wanted his promises to be true. I was so homesick and eager to reunite with Jason that I was willing to delude myself into trusting a stranger.

When I ended up murdered and buried in a ditch somewhere, I’d have nothing to blame but my own desperation.

Hopefully, it wouldn’t be that bad. So long as I lived to the end of this road trip and actually got to see my brother again, I’d consider it worthwhile.

“You can put some music on, if you like.” Logan’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

I met his eye in the window’s reflection and found him smiling at me.

Did he realize I’d been watching him the whole time?

“It’s fine. I don’t really care about music.”

Logan didn’t argue. He just shrugged and turned on the radio to some local station playing a mix of different popular genera.

Now that we had music for a distraction, I thought he would fall silent so we could continue ignoring each other, but he was apparently determined to strike up a conversation.

“You know, I grew up in Maryland, too. You’re originally from Kent Island, right? I’m from Saint Michaels.”

I gave him a noncommittal noise to maintain the bare minimum of politeness. “So, you’re from right across the bay.”

“Yep. I haven’t been back to the state in a few years, but I’ve still got some friends there that I keep in contact with. Did you hear about the ship that blew up off the coast of Baltimore not too long ago?”

My eyes flickered over toward him for a moment, but quickly returned to the window. “I didn’t hear about that.”

“Huh, yeah.” His head bobbed as he tapped the steering wheel in time to the music. “The official report was that the ship experienced some sort of malfunction, but there are rumors that there was Mafia activity going on.”

Was that supposed to be a warning, or was this just an attempt at small talk?

The fact that I couldn’t tell the difference probably said more about me than it did about him.

I didn’t respond, and just nodded vaguely to everything that he said. Eventually, he gave up the one-sided conversation and we sat in silence, with only the radio and the sound of the road passing by to fill the air between us.

When Logan had been talking, I’d wanted him to shut up, but now that he had, I realized I actually preferred the sound of his voice. Without his words to distract me, there was too much extra space in my head. My thoughts ran wild with possibilities, showing me images of all the ways this could end badly for me.

I could end up dead in a ditch somewhere.

Or maybe this whole thing had been a lie, and I’d get to Maryland only to find that my brother wanted nothing to do with me after all.

Or maybe, Logan’s “nice guy” persona was just an act meant to lure me in. He was a stranger to me. For all I knew, he could be the same as the people who kidnapped me when I was a kid and he was intending to sell me just like they had.

I’d already left that particular version of hell behind. I would rather die than go back.

My heart rate sped up, and my breathing turned shallow until I was on the verge of a panic attack.

No.

I couldn’t panic now.

If Logan was sincere, then he might decide I was too much trouble to bother with. If he was lying, then panicking would only make it easier for him to take advantage of me.

My vision turned fuzzy around the edges, and I felt myself falling into the Midnight Zone. That detached headspace always helped me get though difficult events, and it would help me this time as well.

I imagined I was floating a few feet above the car, pulled along like a kite on a string. My body—that of Blue Steele—was still trapped in the car, but I, Clay Dahler, could surf the winds and admire the landscape all I wanted without any disturbances. From this vantage point, I could see much farther into the horizon. If I squinted and focused real hard, I could even see the ocean.

I recalled a moment when I was younger, and I’d heard the original version of The Little Mermaid for the first time. I’d cried when the mermaid had turned into sea foam. Now, however, that outcome didn’t seem too bad.

Sea foam had no feelings. No worries. It remembered nothing and was free to ride the crest of the ocean waves forever, undisturbed.

Yeah. That sounded like a pretty good fate after all.

The car eventually came to a stop, but it wasn’t until a hand shook my shoulder that I snapped out of the Midnight Zone and back into my own body.

Blinking several times to clear the haze from my vision, I scowled over at Logan and shrugged his hand off my shoulder.

“What is it?”

“We’re stopping for lunch. Come on.” He nodded toward the roadside diner sitting right in front of us.

“All right. I’ll just wait here.” I leaned my head against the window, ready to take a nap in the noonday sun streaming through the glass. Visiting the Midnight Zone always left me feeling tired afterward, like I’d run a mental marathon.

However, before I could close my eyes, Logan nudged my shoulder again.

“What? I’m not leaving you out here. Come on. We’ve already been on the road for several hours. You must be hungry by now.”

As subtly as I could, I checked the clock on the car’s radio. Yep. Four hours had passed since we started driving.

I had no concept of time when I was lost in the Midnight Zone. It could have been minutes or hours for all I knew. In the past, when I was still being held captive, my trips to the Midnight Zone could even last for days.

Food sounded great right now, especially since I hadn’t eaten since yesterday, but there was just one problem.

“Can’t afford it. I’ll grab something from a vending machine later.”

Without saying anything, Logan exited the car and closed the door behind him. I thought that was the last of it and settled back against the window for my nap, but a moment later my own door opened, and I nearly tumbled onto the concrete.

Logan caught me, strong hands barely struggling to support my weight.

“I promised to get you to Maryland,” he said, letting me go as soon as he knew I was stable. “That includes food. I’m not letting you starve for the whole trip.”

The feeling of his hands on me unnerved me. I was used to people grabbing me for all kinds of reasons, but I couldn’t remember the last time someone had supported me. When I fell, I either caught myself or hit the ground. There was never another option.

“All right.” I grabbed my bag from the backseat—not willing to go anywhere without my stuff just in case I ended up stranded—and stepped out of the car. “But you might want to rethink that offer. I’ll eat you out of house and home if given the chance.”

He just laughed as he closed the car door behind me. “I’ll take my chances.”

The diner was just like the kind you’d see in a cliché road trip movie from the fifties, right down to the black and white checkerboard floor and red vinyl seats. I didn’t even think they still made restaurants like this, but the business seemed to be leaning into the aesthetic. Even the food on the menu had been given fifties-themed names.

I wasn’t sure how long Logan’s promise to pay for me would last, so when the waiter came, I took advantage while I could. Logan said nothing, but I watched his eyes grow larger as I ordered practically half the menu.

“You weren’t joking,” he said when the waiter left, though there was still a smile on his face. Either he wasn’t actually mad, or he was better than most people at hiding his anger.

I stirred a straw around in my water, listening to the ice cubes clinking against each other.

“First thing to learn about me. I’m not a funny person, and I don’t joke. If you do catch me joking, then you should run. That usually means I’m on my last nerve.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

I couldn’t bear to look at the other man’s smiling face anymore.

Seriously, did he ever get upset or show any other emotion?

No one could be this pleasant all the time. It set my teeth on edge because I couldn’t figure out what he was thinking.

Rather than focusing on Logan sitting across from me at the table, I watched the other people around us. It was mostly couples, and a few families with young kids. The few individual customers sat up at the bar at the front, perching on stools rather than taking up a while booth.

What did people think of us when they saw Logan and I together?

Did they think we were a couple?

Or maybe just a pair of friends on a road trip?

We definitely didn’t look related.

I noticed our waiter on the far side of the diner, whispering with other members of the staff. I initially chalked it up to typical workplace gossip, until I noticed them glaring over toward our table in between their words.

At first, I assumed the look was meant for me. Somehow, they must have figured out what I was, and they didn’t approve of having someone of my “profession” in their establishment.

However, after a moment, I realized they weren’t looking at me at all. Their glares were pointed at Logan.

Why?

I was suspicious of him, but that’s because I was suspicious of everyone. So far, Logan hadn’t done anything to draw such looks from normal people.

An image suddenly came to my mind, and for a moment I thought I’d accidentally slipped back into the Midnight Zone as I looked down at Logan and myself from an outside perspective. However, it wasn’t that. I had just been struck with clarity about what Logan and I must look like to other people.

He was well dressed, in a smart suit jacket that he’d paired with dark jeans to keep it casual. There was nothing spectacular about his look, but he was obviously well put together.

I, on the other hand, was a wreck. I’d left behind all my working clothes since I never wanted my brother to see me in such revealing outfits. This only left me with a few ratty pairs of sweatpants and two T-shirts. I was wearing the best of them now, but it was still a far cry from Logan’s polished appearance.

Add in the black eye that was still tender to the touch, and we must look like an abuser and his victim.

It wasn’t just the waiters, either. The whole diner kept sneaking us suspicious looks. I was tempted to stand up on the table and shout the truth from the top of my lungs to set everyone straight.

How dare they all care about me now?

Where was this concern when I was actually being abused?

What if their suspicions drove Logan away, and I lost my only chance at salvation?

Would any of them offer me the same help Logan had, or would they just shake their heads and pity me from a distance?

A touch on my hand startled me, making me jump. Logan leaned across the table, and I was certain he must be mad. This was the moment he would finally drop his “nice guy” act and show me his real face.

Yet, he just kept smiling as he cupped my hand in his own. I hadn’t even realized my hands were clenched into tight fists on the table, but my fingers ached from the strain as he gently coaxed them into uncurling.

“It’s all right.”

I watched, distracted, as he rubbed the ache out of my fingers.

“What?”

He moved on to my other hand and soothed that one as well.

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks about me. You know the truth, and I know the truth. That’s enough.”

“But...” He finished with the other hand and set it back down on the table, leaving behind an oddly empty feeling in my chest. “What if you get in trouble? Those kinds of accusations could ruin your reputation.”

Logan just shrugged again and started folding the paper wrapper from his straw into a complicated little coil.

“Do you plan on accusing me of anything?”

I quickly shook my head, which earned me another smile from him.

“Then it’ll be fine. I’ve worked in law enforcement long enough to know that making a case against someone is nearly impossible without a victim’s testimony.”

The coiled paper sprung from his fingers, sailing a few inches through the air, before landing in a puddle of condensation that had collected under his water glass.

I watched the slowly dissolving paper with a raised eyebrow.

“Law enforcement? I thought you were a private investigator.”

His face turned a shocking shade of red, and he ran a nervous hand through his hair. “Yeah. About that. I need to come clean about something. I’m not actually a private investigator.”

My hand immediately went to my bag sitting on the seat beside me, ready to bolt out of that diner.

“No, wait. Let me explain.” Logan waved both hands in front of himself like he was building a wall, begging me to stay without touching me. “I wasn’t lying about your brother. He did hire private investigators. Damien Anderson and Sebastian Roth own Alias Investigations . They are private investigators, and they’re the ones your brother went to. They were busy with other cases and weren’t having much luck finding you, so they asked me for help.”

I let go of my bag, but I remained stiff as stone on my side of the booth.

“Why you?”

“I’m, um...” He cleared his throat and wouldn’t look me directly in the eye. “Back in Baton Rouge, I’m a detective with a special force called the Federal Protection Agency. It’s similar to the SVU department. But I have access to... more resources for solving cases like yours.”

“Baton Rouge?”

When I first escaped my captors, I’d found myself in the middle of nowhere. Even now, I still couldn’t point the location out on a map. I’d walked until I found a bus terminal and bought the cheapest ticket I could find. Then I immediately fell asleep on the bus until it dumped me in Baton Rouge.

“Dinah’s Place,” I remembered out loud.

Logan nodded along, finally looking back up at me. “Yeah. I’ve had dealings with her before, so we have some rapport. I knew how to get her to talk to me, and she pointed me toward San Francisco.”

I barely remembered those days. I’d been in such a daze, constantly slipping in and out of the Midnight Zone. A vague memory came to mind of asking for a job at Dinah’s Place , then asking for help buying a bus ticket when she turned me down, but I wasn’t sure if that memory was accurate or not.

“I’m surprised anyone there remembered me. That was years ago.”

Logan didn’t look embarrassed anymore, but a flush still stained his cheeks.

“It’s not surprising. You’re a hard person to forget.”

Was that a compliment?

An insult?

I honestly wasn’t sure which I would prefer.

Luckily, I was saved from responding by the arrival of our food. Our waiter glared at Logan the entire time, but never said a word as they dropped off plate after plate of food until the entire table was covered.

I no longer cared about judging stares or painful memories. All my attention was focused on my stomach.

Grabbing the nearest plate, which turned out to be a cheeseburger, I immediately started eating. I barely came up for air between bites as I cleaned the entire plate, fries and all, in less than two minutes.

I couldn’t remember the last time I didn’t feel hungry. Over the years, I’d learned to ignore the constant hunger, but now that there was a literal feast laid out before my eyes, my stomach had become a bottomless pit.

As soon as the cheeseburger was gone, I grabbed a bowl of soup and drank it down so quickly I barely tasted it.

Logan forgot all about his own food as he watched me. I waited for him to say something, to protest or chastise me for my appalling table manners, but he said nothing. He even started pushing the plates closer to me one at a time, so they’d be easier to reach.

I didn’t manage to eat everything, but I polished off a significant amount of it and had the rest boxed up to take with me for later. Nearly two hours had passed when we finally left the diner. I fell asleep in the car before we even pulled out of the parking lot, warmed by the afternoon sun and the weight of my first full belly in years.