Saving the Bride: An Accidental Marriage Romance Page 8

  I wouldn’t even have to say goodbye. I wouldn’t have to see his gorgeous, expressive face again. His steel eyes, his broad shoulders, that strong gait and the massive hands. None of it, ever again. So simple.

  My fingers didn’t move. I stared at the email on the screen, breathing hard.

  “I can’t do—”

  Footsteps thumped up behind me, crushing leaves and cracking twigs. My heart jumped back out of the sand and into my throat. I shuffled to my feet, kicking dust up, my grip tightening on the phone, and spun to face whoever it was.

  Chapter 12

  Logan

  Katie had said “Marino” more than once. More than fucking once.

  I’d known the minute I’d spotted her sprinting across the sand outside the kitchen window that something was up. It had taken me long enough to admit that I had suspicions about her, and this was the price I paid for that.

  She stood on the beach, her bare toes in the sand, wearing my shirt and clutching her midriff as I approached. Her eyes were wide, her lips parted. “Logan—”

  “Marino?” I asked, coolly. I should’ve known whatever had happened between us was bullshit. I’d learned long ago not to trust women, men, fucking anyone but myself. Fool! They throw a pretty girl at you and you lose your senses.

  “I can explain,” she said, and it was almost comical how stricken she looked. How utterly horrified by the situation. It would’ve been funny if I hadn’t fallen for her act once already.

  “Go ahead,” I replied, bitter mirth bubbling from my lips. “I’m all ears. Tell me how Marino turned you. Feed me whatever lie you dare.” I wouldn’t be taken for a fool again. Once bitten, twice ready to serve up some hot fuckin’ payback.

  “Logan, please,” Katie said.

  “Please what? I’ve given you the opportunity to speak. So speak.”

  She worried her bottom lip with her teeth, and I had to resist all my primal urges and all the emotional ones. Christ, how could she be this beautiful? How could I still want her after I’d just heard her talking about Marino?

  “Logan, okay. I’ll start from the top. I’m a journalist. I write for the Business Breakdown. It’s New York City-based magazine, which my mother Anna Hendrickson owns.”

  The Business Breakdown… I read that magazine frequently. “I’ve heard of it, and I’ve never seen your byline in there. I’d remember.”

  “That’s because I write under the name J. Henry. It keeps my personal and business life separate.”

  “Alternatively, it helps you dupe people you’re interviewing into spilling all, right?” I raised an eyebrow at her.

  “No. I’m not like that. This… this whole island ‘affair,’ or whatever it is, is a totally out of character for me. But you have to understand that I had no choice. Marino contacted my mother and told her that she would have to do an exposé on you, report back to him with information about you, or he’d burn the business to the ground. He’s threatened her, me. I— Well shit, Logan, I had to protect her and the company. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep them safe.”

  “Them?”

  “Mom, and Butch. My friend Sam. I— You have to realize that I would never do something like this under normal circumstances.”

  “So, it was a lie,” I said. “Everything you’ve told me so far.” I gave a curt nod. “Understood.”

  “No! No, no— I would never have slept with you if I didn’t—”

  “Save it,” I said, and put up my palm. “I’m not interested in dramatics, Miss Hendrickson. You came to do a job, so I’ll help you complete it. How does that sound? You mentioned an email on the phone?”

  “Yes, but Logan—”

  “I’m not afraid of Marino and his lackeys. Christ, for all I know you’re the emissary I was meant to meet at that bar.” Of course, it had been a setup. The pill in the drink, the damsel in distress bit. Shit, it had ticked all the boxes for me. What man wouldn’t want to protect and keep a beautiful woman safe?

  “I’m not the emissary. I don’t know who that is. Look, I just came here because I have to—”

  “You’ve explained enough,” I said and closed in on her. I grabbed hold of her upper arm and held it firmly. “I’ll give you any information you want, Hendrickson. Unlike you, I don’t keep secrets.” She’d tricked me. I wasn’t tricked easily. Not by pretty faces or smooth words. Katie had seemed special, different. Ballsy and sassy, sweet but strong, and it was all a manufactured personality to keep me interested.

  Fucking idiot.

  “Logan. Please.” She jerked at my grip, but I didn’t let her go.

  Why should I? She deserved to be delivered to the feds, same as Marino. She was likely the reason my phone had gone missing. She’d drugged as the other night. Was the marriage real, or all part of the act she’d perpetuated to get what she wanted out of me?

  “You want to run tales back to your boss?” I asked. “Fine, I’ll give you what you want, girl.”

  “I don’t—”

  I cut her off by speaking. “I’ve been betrayed three times in my life,” I said. “First, when my mother and father left me when I was twelve years old. They dropped me off at an orphanage and never came back.”

  “Oh— Oh my god.”

  “Second,” I continued, “when I was eighteen. I walked in on my best friend fucking my fiancé the night before we were supposed to get married at the courthouse. He was my ‘best man.’ She laughed after the fight happened. I broke his nose, told him to get lost, that I never wanted to see him again. She left too.”

  “You don’t have to do this.” Katie shook her head. “Logan, you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to tell me any of this. I… just… I didn’t want this to—”

  “Third,” I said, ignoring the interjection, “was when that same best friend, Kyle, set me up when we were boosting cars. He got off with a slap on the wrist as a reward for turning me in. I spent five years in prison. You understand that each of these people, all four of them, have been firmly cut out of my life. My parents tried contacting me after I made it big. They called me ‘son,’ sent emails and tried calling. Shit, they even turned up at my offices once or twice. I never saw them. I never spoke to them. I never gave them a dime. I have no family. I have no friends. I have no wife or girlfriend.”

  Her mouth worked but no words escaped.

  “I’ve never let anyone close enough, because I won’t give anyone that power over me. I won’t let anyone take everything I’ve worked to achieve and throw it down the fucking drain.” I paused and moved even closer to her, lowering my voice, shaking with the intensity of my truth. “I made a small exception for you, I’ll admit it. I let you far closer than I wanted you. They used you against me, and I let it happen. But I promise you this, Jinx, I’ll never let it happen again.”

  “Logan!” She burst my name out. “I’m telling you the truth. Marino is blackmailing me to do all of this. He wanted me to email him all these details, or he’ll hurt my mother.”

  “And you were going to do it, yes? When I walked up to you, a short while ago, you were about to.”

  She didn’t reply, but the truth was in her eyes, in the way she looked down at the sand between her feet.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “I don’t want to do it!” She yelled this time, jerking on my grip, and actually got free. She balled her hands into fists and held them at her sides, the phone still clasped in one of them. “This is not who I am! This is not what I wanted for my life or for my mom’s. Goddammit, I had a hard time growing up too! I had a hard time too, and the only thing I’ve ever had is support from my mom. And what, I should repay her by letting some psycho prick kill her? Over a man I don’t know. A man who—” She broke off, her eyes shimmering with tears, and clamped her hand over her mouth, shaking her head. It was her left hand. The hand with that fucking cheap-ass ring on it. “I didn’t want any of this. I didn’t ask for it. But it’s happened.” She dropped her arm and took a deep breath. “It’s
happened, and I have to deal with it. Because no matter how much I… I care for you or want you, Logan, I have to protect my family. That’s all that’s ever mattered to me.”

  I stared at her.

  It was so fucking hard to separate the woman I’d thought I was falling for—yeah, what the fuck was that about?—and the person standing in front of me who was willing to sell me out to Marino.

  “You expect me to believe what you have to say based on what? Two fucks, a blackout night, and a few pieces of information?” I made the words crass and hard to force myself into reality, to hear them.

  I wanted her still. Fuck! I wanted her still, and it was ridiculous. She was the enemy.

  “So, what now?” she asked, so fucking pragmatic. “We’re just going to, what? Go get an annulment, I report back to Marino and ruin your life, and that’s that?”

  “Sounds about right,” I replied. “Except you’re mistaken on the ruining my life part, and you missed the part that we’ll never see each other again.”

  She swallowed again, tears welling. “Logan, no. I don’t want to report back to him. Do you get that? It’s just, if I don’t, my family—”

  A noise crackled in the trees and I looked back into the palms, listening hard. The sun had dipped below the horizon now, and purple dusk had brought the half-light.

  “I don’t want it to end this way,” she said simply. “But I don’t see how it’s possible to go down any other way. I’m sorry.”

  “If you think I’m letting you leave, you’re fucking delusional.” I turned back to her. “If you think I’ll let you trot back to Marino and give him my movements, my position, you’re insane.” What if she knew about the feds? About the ambush? “Not until I know how much you’ve already told him.”

  “I haven’t told him anything. I swear it.”

  “But you will.”

  “Didn’t you just say you’re not afraid of what he knows about you?” Katie asked, brushing her hair behind her ear. She folded her arms underneath her breasts, the front of the shirt hiking up to reveal more of her thighs.

  I didn’t care what he knew about me, but what he knew about the operation. “Stop talking,” I said. “I heard something.”

  Katie opened her mouth to argue, but I silenced her by slashing my hand through the air. I listened, but only silence greeted me. In the distance, music thumped into the falling night, likely from someone’s bungalow or the resort.

  The music was a mockery of this moment. It was so damn carefree, and here we were, facing off against each other, while lies curled between us. A couple of hours ago, I’d taken her over the kitchen counter. We’d had a pleasant fucking meal right afterward. Now, this.

  “We need to get out of here,” I said, and took her arm again. Not her hand. Her arm. I had to keep the connection at bay. “Let’s go.”

  “What time is—?”

  The pop of gunfire scattered between the trees. Katie let out a shriek and I dragged her closer, then threw her down in the sand again. These weren’t firecrackers. They were gunshots all right, and they’d come from over in the trees.

  I dove on top of Katie for the second time in as many days and covered her body with mine. Yes, I still wanted to keep her safe, against all my better instincts, and it was fucking insane.

  My pulse raced in my ears.

  The gunshots cracked again. A shout rang out. Footsteps came closer. It wouldn’t be long now until they were on top of us.

  We had to move.

  Chapter 13

  Katie

  “Up,” Logan said into my ear. “Get up and run. Hold my hand.”

  The trees were alive with movement, with fear. My breath caught in my throat and threatened to stay there as I dug my fingers into the sand, anchoring myself to this horrific reality.

  Real gunshots. No fireworks or wedding party awaited us around the corner. These were men with guns, and they wanted us dead. Me dead. Mom!

  “Katie, now!” Logan’s weight lifted off my back, and I pushed off from the sand, my pulse pounding and my legs threatening to betray me. If they went Jell-O on me now, I was screwed.

  I grabbed for Logan’s hand and we darted through the evening, down the beach.

  It was like something out of my nightmares as a kid where I’d dream that a monster was attacking me. and each time I tried hitting it, my muscles had turned to feathers and my punches either didn’t land, or if they did, it was so softly it made no difference.

  The dudes with the guns were the monster, and, right now, I was pretty much powerless.

  “This way,” Logan said and tugged on my hand.

  God, what had I done? I’d admitted to everything in front of him. I’d basically outed my mother too, and that meant I couldn’t possibly return to Marino without him finding out about it. There would be punishment and retribution, and… it was probably already past my deadline for sending the files.

  Breathe, and focus on staying alive.

  I listened to the inner directive and ran toward the little white gate which bordered Logan’s property. He vaulted it and I followed his lead, catching my toes on the top of the slats and swearing under my breath at the pain.

  Finally, we thundered up the path and slipped into the house. I skidded to a halt, rammed my hands onto my knees and buckled over, gasping for breath. The carpet swam in front of me and I blinked tears.

  Logan’s footsteps thudded past me, then returned. A bottle of water materialized in front of my eyes. “Drink it,” he said, gruffly.

  “Thanks,” I managed and swept it from his hand. I straightened, sweat pouring down my cheeks, and tried unscrewing the cap. My wrists and hands would not cooperate.

  Logan tutted, snatched the bottle back and opened it, then thrust it toward me again.

  I drank deeply and let out a tiny sigh of relief while Logan stormed over to a panel on the wall. He hit a combination of buttons, shut the blinds on the window, then came back over to me. “Follow me.”

  “Where to?” I asked, lowering the bottle.

  “Now.”

  For once, I didn’t make a snarky quip about his rudeness. He still didn’t believe I was who I said I was, and I couldn’t blame him for it. I’d lied to him outright, and I’d used subterfuge to get what I wanted. No, what you needed. You did what you had to do to keep your family safe.

  I followed Logan through the house, fear creeping into my chest again. Where were the shooters? They had to be Marino’s men. Why hadn’t they broken into the bungalow yet? Were they going to?

  Logan led me to his bedroom, waiting for me to enter first, then followed me, shut the door, and locked it.

  “This is the plan?” I asked, gesturing with the open water bottle and spilling a little. “We’re going to hide in your bedroom?”

  He gave me a dark look and strode to his closet. He opened the door, stepped inside, and switched on the light.

  I tottered forward to catch a glimpse of whatever the hell was going on here. Logan didn’t strike me as the type who’d hide out in his bedroom when it was time for action. I watched as he walked to the rack of suits hanging at the back—the ones I’d thought were weird when I’d borrowed one of his shirts earlier.

  He swept the hangers back and revealed a small pad on the wall that was glowing pale blue with what looked to be a sensor on the front.

  “What’s that for?” I asked. The silence irked me. He didn’t have to forgive me for what’d happened, but this whole process would be much easier and clearer if he simply told me what the hell we were in for here.

  Logan punched a number into the pad and several beeps rang out from back in the room. One near either door – the one for the hall, the other for the bathroom – and above the four-poster bed, near the closet door too.

  “Logan, I know you’re pissed at me, and you don’t trust me right now, but can you please tell me what’s going on?”

  He looked back at me over his shoulder, his jaw clenched, but returned his focus to the pad again
instead of answering.

  I drank more from the water bottle to keep myself occupied. My hands still shook from the chase earlier.

  Logan punched in another number and a terrific thick-clack rang out. The back wall of the closet slid backward to reveal a secret compartment… no, a room. An entire damn room. I took two steps forward, water forgotten, jaw dropped.

  “It’s a safe room,” Logan said. “Get in.” He placed his hand on my back and shuttled me forward. I stepped over the threshold still gaping a little bit—this place was amazing. It wasn’t huge but kitted out with a small single bed, a refrigerator and gas-burner, a wireless phone on the padded wall, a fire extinguisher, a ventilator, a single armchair and bookshelf, lights, and another door which likely led into a bathroom. Or a torture dungeon. Whichever suited Logan’s fancy, of course.

  I stood, stunned, shaking my head. “Wow. I had no idea.” So, this was why he’d taken the smaller room in the bungalow. “You had this custom made?”

  He grunted in the affirmative.

  I made my way over to the armchair and lowered myself into it. The burn in my legs had already started up—I wasn’t exactly the most active gal in the world. Sam was the one who climbed mountains, and I was the one who wrote, ate too many bagels, and shunned anything physical apart from the occasional walk. And now, high-speed dashes across the sands.

  Sitting here would have been heaven after all that strenuous physical exercise, but for the raw fear which chewed at my stomach. I had to call my mom.

  “Logan—” I started.

  He lifted a hand. “We won’t talk. I didn’t bring you here to make nice, Hendrickson. Only to keep you where I can see you. You’ll be handed over to the authorities when the time’s right.”

  “Oh yeah?” I lifted my chin. “I bet the authorities will be more understanding than you are. How many men and women do you think Marino has manipulated into doing what he wants? Huh?”

  Logan’s muscle twitched in his jaw. Apparently, I’d hit a nerve.

  “You know what I don’t get?” I asked. “How you got involved with him in the first place. How any of this is even happening right now.”