The Logan Brothers - Books 1-4 (EXPOSURE, CRASH, TWIN PASSIONS, and ADDICTED TO YOU!)

Chapter 25





Crash

“Don't hurt him.”

Was she f*cking kidding me! The  guy was fit for a straight jacket. Or a jail cell. Probably both.

Why was she protecting this  psycho stalker? He'd made her life a f*cking misery, forcing her to  move away from her family and friends and start a new life somewhere  completely alien to her. And now he'd tracked her down and wasstill  tormenting her.

The guy deserved a beating, and  more.

I called Jones, yet another job  for him to do. This guy deserved a serious pay rise with all the  work he'd put in for me recently. Although, something told me that  money wasn't much of a motivator for him.

I had total faith that he'd  track this guy down in the blink of an eye. It didn't matter how  many Brad Scotts there were, he'd find him. He knew which college he  went to, he knew he was here, in town, right now. That would be  enough for a guy like Jones. More than enough.

He had contacts all over from  his days as a detective. He'd be able to use them to access police  databases and track credit card transactions. I could find out  Brad's mobile number and he'd be able to use that to pinpoint  exactly where he was.

This one would be an absolute  walk in the park for Jones. I had no doubt about that.

....

It was only about 2 hours after  I'd called Jones that I found myself standing outside a cheap motel  on the outskirts of the city. The night was drawing on and the place  was enveloped in silence, not a light on inside the row ofrooms  lined up to the side of the road.

Jones had traced a credit card  transaction in Brad's name to the place, and now I was there to have  a little chat.

I saw a large handwritten sign  saying 'reception' over to the right and walked towards it. Inside a  stout elderly woman sat heavily behind a plexiglass window, busily  scratching a worn pencil on a crossword. I tapped on the glassand  saw her head rise slowly to meet my face.

“I'm looking for a friend of  mine.” I said.

Her face was stony and  disinterested.

“He's medium build, about 21  years old, blond hair. Name's Brad.”

She continued to look at me  with a completely neutral stare. It was like she didn't understand  what I was saying.

“Can't give away information  about our guests,” she said, dropping her head back down to her  crossword.

“Look, I'm just looking for  my friend. Do you want me to start knocking on each door looking for  him, waking up your guests? That wouldn't be good for business,  would it?”

She kept her head down but  reached out her left hand towards the telephone. “Do that and I'll  call the police.”

Stupid stubborn old bitch.  Tell me which f*cking room he's in!

“No, look, don't do that.  Please, can you just do me this favor, just this once.”

Her face when her eyes lifted  to meet mine told me all I needed to know. Screw it.

I dipped my hand into my pocket  and pulled out a $100 bill, slapping it down on the counter in front  of me. “How about now?”

Her hand crept forward through  the small gap in the glass and snatched the note. She briefly held  it to the light before turning her head down into some sort of log  book.

“Room 4. He didn't call  himself Brad but he matches the description.”

A smile hit my lips. Perfect.

I turned and walked back out  into the night. A long trailer-like building stretched out to my  right, broken down into different rooms, each with their own number.

I walked along the front,  passing by rooms 1 to 3 before stopping at 4. There was no light  inside, not a sound coming from within. He was either sleeping or he  wasn't there. I was about to find out.

I reached for the handle and  turned it, expecting the door to be bolted shut.

But no, it slid open a  fraction. I felt an excitement building as I pushed slightly harder,  opening the door wider to reveal a single bed lined up against the  wall in the middle of the room.

The faint light of the moon  spilled inside, illuminating the silhouette of a figure lying on the  bed. My heartbeat was rising fast now, the situation getting to me.  I wasn't used to this sneaking around stuff, this was usually Jones'  forte. No, I was always in your face and direct, not slinking in the  shadows.

I stood in the doorway, waiting  a moment for my eyes to adjust. I could hear a light breathing, the  body on the bed moving slowly up and down. The room was basic and  bare, a closet in one corner and a small table in front of the bed,  an archaic television set sitting on top of it.

The walls seemed to be covered  in some sort of decoration. It looked like pictures in the dim  light, pinned up against it.

I turned and gently shut the  door, drawing a crowbar from behind my back. It was time.

I hit the light switch and the  room was quickly bathed in a sickly orange glow. I squinted as I saw  the figure on the bed stir, Brad's face now revealed as he lay on  his back. His eyes flickered, his left hand lifting to cover them as  he sat up.

It took a while for things to  dawn on him as his mind came into focus. His hand dropped and the  confused look on his face turned to shock and fear as his eyes found  me, standing in the doorway, a crowbar dangling menacingly at my  side.

He scrambled up out of bed and  into the corner of the room. It was the reaction of a f*cking  coward. When he spoke his words were rushed, cracked, and broken in  terror.

“Who..who...are you!” he  said, cowering in the corner of the room like an abused dog.

“Brad Scott?” I asked, my  voice cold and dry. My heart was pounding inside but I didn't show  it. I had grown used to reigning in my emotions when I needed to.

He nodded. “What's going on?  Who are you?”

“I'm a close friend of Elle  Harper. I think you know her don't you?” A growing menace infected  my words as a questioning frown dipped over my eyes.

“Erm, yeah.” His face was  white, the blood rushing out of it. He looked like he was going to  faint.

And yeah, he knew exactly why I  was here.

“I've come here tonight for  one reason.” I let my words hang as I slowly walked further into  the room towards him.

“I've come here to tell you  what you're going to do. And if you don't, well...” I lifted up  the crowbar as his eyes widened.

“OK Brad, here's how things  are going to go. You have two choices.” I played this part well.  It was what I did with anyone who tried to cheat in my casino,  anyone who tried to wrong me. I gave them two options, and they  alwayschose the one I wanted.

Brad, I knew, would do the  same. Because really, there was only one choice he could make.

“You can either leave this  motel right now, tonight, and never come back here again, and never,  ever, ever, speak or go anywhere near Elle again or....”

I walked in further, watching  him shake and cower, my eyes growing ever more fierce.

“...or I can take this  crowbar here, and do what I'm best at.” I didn't need to clarify  what that was. The threat was enough.

His reaction was instantaneous.

“No, I'll go, I'll go. I'll  leave in the morning.” The words came tumbling out with such speed  and fear that I could hardly understand them.

God he really was pathetic,  squirming around on the floor like a worm. He'd been hiding out in  this motel, creeping into town and looking for Elle. There was  probably no other reason for him to be here. He was just a f*cking  stalker, a low-life. He f*cking sickened me.

I looked briefly to the table  with the TV on it and saw pictures scattered over it. They were all  of Elle, pictures of her with him, pictures of her with friends,  pictures of her on her own. My eyes drew up to the wall where I thought I'd seen decorations. They were images, as I thought, once  more of her. They littered the wall, pinned up all over it.

My eyes began bulging in anger  at the sight.

His face looked even more  sheepish and scared when I turned back to face him. I gritted my  teeth and growled through them, my words vibrating out of my throat.

“No, you'll leave now. You'll  leave tonight. If I don't see you coming out of this motel and  driving off in the next 5 minutes, I'll come in here and give you  option 2. HAVE YOU F*ckING GOT THAT!”

The last words thundered out of  my mouth, my calm suddenly shattered.

I couldn't tell whether he was  nodding on the floor or just shaking, but I didn't care. He'd got  the f*cking message.

I took one last glance at the  images on the wall, my eyes stopping on one of Elle smiling in the  sunshine, her face lit up. She looked so happy, so at ease, so free.  I smiled lightly as I looked at it. I'd love to see her like that  again.

I ripped my gaze from the image  and back towards the door. “You've got 5 minutes.” I growled  again. “I'll be watching from my car.”

With that I stormed out of the  room, leaving the door hanging open as the cool night air spilled  inside.

I'd kept my promise. I  hadn't hurt him.





L. A. Shorter's books