Page 50 of Target Me
I hid my hands in my lap, hoping he didn’t notice the trembling that told the full story. I had been terrified. Chi sao, sparring in the kwoon was nothing like the fight I’d just had. There had been no mutual respect between partners. No tapping out or do-overs if the technique wasn’t right. I’d been fighting for my life, and if I hadn’t known at a molecular level what to do from hours upon hours of drilling moves into my muscular memory, I wouldn’t be here.
When I glance up from my lap, Logan’s stare didn’t waver.
“You are badass. It doesn’t mean you should have had to be in that situation.”
A waitress bustled over with a coffeepot in hand.
“Please,” I begged, holding my cup out for her to fill.
She gave me a small smile as she poured and did a double take when she offered the pot to Logan. I couldn’t blame her. Even mussed up, drugged, and in a bad mood, he was breath-takingly good looking. But more than that, he was smart. Loyal. And exceptionally good in the bedroom.
Despite the danger, and the fact we had been going at it like rabbits over the last few days, my body heated just thinking about what he had done to me on the table the night before. The way he cared for me after we played made everything feel so much more real. It made me feel like it was something that could be more permanent.
A vague memory floated through my mind, me asking him not to leave while I was blissed out on orgasms and endorphins. I should have felt embarrassed about making myself so vulnerable to him—I’d meant every word of what I’d said—but I didn’t.
He deserved to know where I stood.
“What are you smiling about?” Logan asked, his lips quirking to match mine.
“Oh, just remembering all the naughty things you did to me last night.”
Logan chuckled. “You were almost kidnapped an hour ago, and you’re thinking about sex? A woman after my own heart.”
I grinned, breaking eye contact to start fixing my coffee the way I liked it.
“I feel shit that I don’t already know this, but do you have a job?”
I looked up in surprise. Logan rubbed the back of his neck, looking around the diner before bringing his attention back to me.
“It just occurred to me that I came into your life and ordered you around, knowing nothing about who you really were as a person. I know nothing about your life. Your aspirations, your goals? They’re all a mystery to me. I’m ashamed to admit it, but I bought into your father’s idea of you being an entitled brat, but the more I know of you, the less I believe what he’s selling.”
My mouth was hanging open. I needed to close it. Maybe say a word or two, but I was stunned. I’d spent all my life being underestimated. Ignored. I was a wallflower in my own home. A pretty ornament for people to look at and ignore, or worse, covet.
Logan saw through all that. He hadn’t believed my spoiled rich girl act for very long, either. The scariest part of this whole thing was that I had the unerring belief that I could trust him.
“You know I teach the children’s kung fu class at the kwoon. I get a small amount of money for that, but mostly, I have an online store where I sell my art. The pottery is generally the most popular, but I also do commissioned paintings. I was supposed to have a wall in an exhibition next month, but seeing as I may be dead by then…”
“Don’t say that.” Logan’s face was fierce as he stared me down, as though he could keep me alive through sheer force of will. Hell, maybe he could, but I was tired. Tired of running. Tired of looking over my shoulder.
I sipped my coffee, looking out the window to avoid Logan’s eyes.
“Where can we go from here? We’re running out of places to hide,” I said softly to my reflection.
Logan sighed, sitting back in his seat as the waitress returned, arms weighed down with plates full of pancakes and bacon.
“We’ll figure something out. For now, let’s eat.”
18
LOGAN
Bear was right. I was far too close to be any use as her protector. The fact someone had got the jump on me. Had knocked me out, leaving her alone to defend herself? It was unforgivable. Thank God she knew how to fight, although thinking of any reason a well-off daughter of a General would feel the need to learn martial arts made me burn.
This was a woman who had learned she could only trust herself, and I’d reinforced that belief this morning. She wouldn’t like what I had planned, but I wasn’t seeing much other choice. I was going to have to hand her over to someone else while I tracked down the son of a bitch who put the bruises on her legs that she had tried to hide from me.
The coffee cleared my head enough that thoughts were coming easier as the minutes passed, and the night outside got darker. We had nowhere to go for the night, and the thought irked me more than it should have. Maybe in the morning I could ask Bear to take her in… although, he was spending his spare time helping Charlie. Damon, then. It would give him a little more purpose, and he already knew what was going on with the stalker. I’d update him as soon as the sun was up.
Across the table, Avery picked at her pancakes quietly, as lost in her head as I was in my own. I wondered what she thought of all of this. She hadn’t asked to be involved, and from everything we’d uncovered, it seemed she had very little to do with the initial motivation. It all came back to the General. Even under artificial lighting, her almost-white hair glowed, like an angel sent to earth. Her long lashes rested on her cheeks as she avoided my eyes, and I had the urge to pull her across the table and make her look at me. Fix those pretty hazel eyes on me and see the truth. I’d failed her. I didn’t deserve her, but I sure as hell didn’t want to let her go.
