Page 49 of Target Me
Tap, tap, tap.
“Logan.”
His breathing deepened, brow furrowing slightly as consciousness finally returned. Choking on a sob, I scanned the night for any sign of threat before refocusing on my protector.
“Hey,” I said gently, a tear dropping onto his face as his eyes fluttered open, irises looking black in the pale light of the moon.
“Hey,” he said, voice full of gravel. “What happened?”
“I just kicked some guy’s butt while you had a nap,” I sassed, regretting it instantly as his face closed up.
“Hey, I was kidding. I’m pretty sure he drugged you. It was definitely a he. They were too big and punched way too hard to be female.” I paused as that information sunk in.“I guess we’re not dealing with my mom then, huh?”
I’d been so sure it was my mom. Had maybe hoped a little, because even though it would have meant she was trying to kill me, at least she’d have been close.
God, I really was pathetic. It seemed I had as many mommy issues as I had daddy issues.
“No, hen. I think you already knew it wasn’t your mom.”
I nodded glumly, offering a hand he refused to take to help him up. Instead, I got to watch him almost fall on his head twice as the drugs continued to work in his system.
“Damn arrogant bastard, you’re going to fall and crack your head open because you can’t stand to accept help from a woman.”
“I won’t crack my head. I have cat-like reflexes.” As he said it, his body went on a tilt-a-whirl. I slid under his armpit to keep him from doing exactly as I had predicted.
“Sure you do, cat man. Come on, I don’t think it’s safe to stay here anymore. I don’t know what happened to that guy.”
The fact I was able to bundle him into the passenger seat of his truck told me more about the lasting effects of the drug than anything else.
Running into the house to collect his keys was like knowingly entering a minefield. I jumped at every noise and whipped around corners with arms up, ready to defend myself.
Once I was back in the truck, I wasted no time flooring the gas pedal and taking off into the night.
With nowhere else to go, I decided to pull into the parking lot of the twenty-four-hour diner in the closest town. It was somewhere familiar, and I’d noticed a ton of security cameras set up around the lot, probably to dissuade vandals, but it would hopefully work to discourage killers, too.
“Do you think coffee will help the effects of the drug wear off?” I asked hopefully, eyeing the cheery yellow light spilling out of the diner windows.
Logan snorted. “Coffee helps with everything. So do pancakes. Let’s go inside. We can come up with a plan once we’re full of caffeine and sugar.”
I reached across the seat and squeezed his arm, happy to feel him warm and moving beside me. “I think that sounds like a great idea. Let’s go.”
Logan was still unsteady on his feet, so ignoring his grumbling protests, I ducked under his arm to steady him as we moved inside.
After situating ourselves in a booth at the back of the diner, out of sight of the room, but with a view of the front door, we ordered our caffeine and sweets and sat back, staring at each other across the expanse of the plastic tablecloth.
“How are you feeling?” I asked when the silence became painful.
“Like someone’s taken a hammer to the back of my skull, actually.”
I snorted. The unladylike sound escaping before I could cover it. It wasn’t funny, but it occurred to me that the guy who had tried to take me would hopefully be feeling much the same way. It seemed only fair.
“Sorry. Sorry, that wasn’t about you,” I said quickly, hoping he wouldn’t close the conversation down on me.
His red-brown eyes narrowed, looking brighter in the artificial light of the diner without the shadow of his cap to cover them. His hair was a dusty mess, disheveled in a way that was sexy, despite knowing how he had come to look that way. Leaning over across the table, I plucked a grass seed out of his fringe and fiddled with it nervously.
“You really fought the guy off?”
“Duh, I told you I know kung fu. I’m basically a badass bitch.”
