Chapter 8 #2
I fall to my knees next to Logan, ignoring the bursts of pain as my ribs protest the movement. The metal bar clatters to the floor. I pull Logan into my arms and his tears soak through the collar of my shirt as he buries his face into the crook of my neck.
“I’ve got you. I’m here. Everything’s going to be okay.”
“I thought you were gone and I was alone and they were going to kill me.”
His sobs break my heart and tears start prickling my eyes too. “That’s not going to happen. I won’t let it. We’ll get out of this. I promise.”
Logan curls into me. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”
The words give me pause. They should be coming out of my mouth, not Logan’s. What does he have to be sorry for?
I card my fingers through his hair. There’s a patch by his temple that’s sticky with blood. “No, no, don’t be sorry, babe. You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one who lied to you. I’m the one who’s sorry.”
He shakes his head against my shoulder and pulls back as if to look at me, even though it’s too dark for either of us to see anything. I keep my hands on either side of his face, leaning in close enough to feel the puff of his breath.
“I didn’t trust you,” he says with a hiccup.
That’s blatantly not true. If anything, he’s been way too trusting and I’ve taken advantage of that time and time again. But there’s something in his voice that tells me he’s talking about something else. “What do you mean?”
“I followed you.” The sob that accompanies his answer distorts the words so much I’m not sure I caught them.
“You what?”
“I followed you. With Sawyer and Everest. Yesterday. When I said I was going to work.”
Yesterday. Was it only yesterday when I woke up with Logan in my arms and he told me someone called in sick? Was it only yesterday when Victoria dragged in to work and Isaac told us that Alonzo Adams had escaped? It feels like a lifetime ago.
“What do you mean, you followed me?”
“I put an AirTag in your bag. Sawyer drove us into Manhattan after your Uber. And then Everest and I followed you to the subway. You met with a woman.”
I sit back on my heels, hands falling into my lap. “You tailed me all the way to Victoria?”
Fuck, I must really be losing my touch if I hadn’t noticed two civilians following me all the way from Brooklyn to Midtown. No wonder I didn’t notice Logan was upset when I first saw him outside the restaurant. No wonder Alonzo got the jump on us. I’ve let my guard down. I’ve been getting soft.
“Jay? Jay?” Logan stretches his legs out until he makes contact with me again. He shuffles forward, like he’s frantic to get back into my arms.
I lift my hands to his shoulders again and he leans into the touch.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. If I hadn’t followed you, none of this would’ve happened.”
“No.” I squeeze Logan firmly. “This has nothing to do with you. This is entirely my fault. I should’ve protected you and kept you safe.
I’m sorry.” Guilt and shame and regret stab at me, sharper than the stings of my injuries.
I have to get Logan out of here. I have to make sure he’s okay. I’ll never forgive myself otherwise.
“I want to go home,” Logan sobs.
“I know. I do too. I’m going to get us out of here.” Slowly, I ease Logan away from me. “Let me see your hands.”
Logan sucks in a shaky breath and lets me turn him around.
I run my hands down his arms to where his wrists are tied together with a zip tie.
With the tripod knob I stuffed into my pocket, I get to work on the plastic.
It’s much easier using it on someone else, but even then, it takes long, never-ending minutes before I’m through.
The second Logan’s arms are free, he launches himself at me again, wrapping his arms tightly around my waist. I hiss at the impact and he immediately pulls away.
“Oh my god, you’re hurt. Where are you hurt? Are you okay?” His hands glide over me like he’s checking me for injuries. He makes it up to my face and he tenderly cups my cheeks. “Oh my god, Jay.”
“Shh. I’m okay. I’m fine.” But I’m not, not really.
I take his hands and plant kisses on his palms. There’s so much I need to tell him, so much we need to talk about.
I don’t know if he’ll be able to forgive me.
I don’t know if I deserve it even if he can.
But we don’t have time for any of that now.
It’ll all have to wait until we’re out of danger and I’m determined to get us to safety.
“Babe, we need to leave. Right now. Can you stand? Can you walk?”
“I… I think so?”
I feel around for the metal bar, gripping it tight in one hand. The other one holds onto Logan’s. “Use the wall to steady yourself.”
Slowly, we both climb to our feet.
“Fuck, it’s so dark in here,” Logan says as he leans heavily against the wall. “I can’t see anything. I don’t know where the floor is.”
“I know. It’s disorienting. It’ll be better outside. Come on, let’s get out of here.”
We follow the wall, hand-in-hand, until we reach the door again. I reluctantly let go of Logan’s hand so I can open the door. Holding the handle, I pause.
Breathe.
“Ready?” I ask Logan quietly.
“Y-yeah, I think so.”
Calm. Control. Focus.
“Let’s go.”