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

Chapter 33





Crash

I rolled gently up the dirt  track in my rental car. I needed a vehicle to get out here and  didn't want to take a cab. No, I didn't want anyone knowing where I  was going.

I drove as slowly as possible,  not wanting to make a sound, and parked some way up the drive. About  a hundred yards ahead of me I could see an old farmhouse, a large  barn off to the left, and wide open fields to the back.

It was truly isolated, not a  building in sight in any direction. The track towards the farm was  long, roughly half a mile from the nearest country road. It was a  perfect place to bring a kidnap victim.

I crept forward, my eyes firmly  on the house. It looked old and run down, like it hadn't been lived  in in years. A warm breeze swept across me, the sunshine beating  down on my face.

At any other time this place  would look quaint, almost idyllic. But not now. Now it felt  sinister, like the site of a horror movie, dark secrets lurking  within.

I continued pressing forward,  turning my eyes towards the barn as I passed it. The large double  doors at the front were open, revealing disused machinery and  equipment inside, long sat gestating and gathering cobwebs.

I turned back to the house,  continuing towards it. It stood alone, built from stone and wood,  with a heavy wooden front door looking out up the track. There were  a couple of broken windows, curtains flowing lightly inside them as  the breeze passed them by. It all told of a place long abandoned.

I walked to the main door and  steadied my breath. Please be here. Please.

I sent my closed fist flying at  it, hitting it loudly three times. I waited, listening closely for  movement inside. I could hear nothing but the buzzing of bees and  chirping of birds in the trees around me.

I knocked again, once more  waiting in silence. There didn't seem to be anyone in. I crept to  the side of the house, peering in through a window. Inside was a  large space, bereft of furniture. It looked to be deserted.

As I walked further round the  house I heard something. I stopped in my tracks, my ears pricking  up. A scream. The sound of a girl screaming. It gathered force and  then, suddenly, was cut short.

“ELLE!”

My pulse began racing as I  quickly ran back to the front of the house, steadying my aim on the  door. I kicked at it hard, smashing my heavy boot at the lock. The  door was strong, but old. It cracked and splintered as I brought my  boot down upon it over and over.

Then, suddenly, the lock gave  way, the door swinging open with a heavy thud. I walked in quickly,  looking left and right. The scream had seemed to come from upstairs.

I walked forward, further into  the old farmhouse, spiders and cobwebs everywhere, bits of debris  littering the floor. The stairs creaked as I stepped up them, the  banister wobbly and unstable.

I marched on, seeing several  open rooms come into view on the landing at the top. But there was  one that was shut, one that had something to hide.

I grabbed the handle with a  hand shaking with fury and twisted, letting the door fall open. What  I saw made my heart drop and my fury rise.

I changed straight in to see  Elle lying tied to a bed, her arms and legs fastened to the corner  posts with bits of old ripped sheet. Her head lay to one side, a  gash staining her blonde hair red with blood.

I inspected the cut. It was  shallow and didn't look serious. A sense of relief ran quickly  through my body as I looked down on her, her wrists and ankles red  and bleeding, her face lost of it's color and light.

Her eyes began to flicker as I  cradled her head in my hands, a terror inside them. She struggled  immediately, pushing her hands at me and twisting and turning with  all her strength.

“Elle, Elle it's me. It's OK,  it's me, it's Crash,” I shouted.

Her movements began to relent  as my voice filtered into her head. She turned her eyes on me  quickly and blinked again, her face exploding with tears as she  recognized me.

She began crying uncontrollably  as I quickly untied her hands, her arms wrapping tight around me as  soon as they were free. I could feel her entire body shaking, her  eyes wetting my shoulder as she sobbed.

I leaned back, looking directly  in her eyes. “It's OK Elle, you're safe now.”

Her eyes were wet and blinking,  her breathing short. Then, suddenly, I saw them dart to the right  over my shoulder as her face once again grew in fear.

“Look out,” she croaked as  I felt a heavy weight come cracking down against my back.

I slumped forward onto her as  she scrambled back, her legs still fastened to the bed. I saw her  hands reach quickly for her bounds as I turned back towards the  door.

Brad stood there, his eyes  wild, a crowbar in his hand. He wasn't the cowering worm he was the  last time I'd seen him. This time he stood tall, his breathing  heavy, his hand shaking in fury.

“I remember what you said  before,” he said, his face completely manic. “I remember what  you said you'd do if I went near her again.”

He lifted the crowbar up.

“Well, maybe it's you who  shouldn't go near Elle. Maybe it's YOU who should be threatened.”

He lifted the crowbar up again  and swung it down towards me. I rolled quickly to the side, my back  aching badly, as it came cracking down on the bed.

I darted my eyes to Elle, who'd  managed to release one leg and was working on the other. Her hands  were working furiously as she looked on in fear at the scene playing  out in front of her.

Brad swung the crowbar again,  swiping across at me. I managed to lift my arms to defend my face  and it clattered into the bone. I felt a crack, my forearm blazing  in pain, and roared.

I launched myself at him before  he could swing again, adrenaline now coursing through my body. I  grabbed him by the neck, squeezing tight as he wriggled like a fish,  his spare hand ripping at my face and trying to gouge my eyes.

I pulled my face back and threw  him to the ground, sending my entire weight crashing on top of him.  He swung wildly with the bar but got no momentum, tapping too  lightly at me to have an impact.

He dropped the bar and sent  both his hands flying at my face, twisting his body again and  launching me off him. He managed to rush to his feet at the top of  the landing outside the room, no weapon now protecting his miserable f*cking self from my wrath.

He ducked down like an animal,  his eyes searching for a weak-point, a time to strike. He'd probably  never been in a fight before but was driven by instinct, launching  himself at me aggressively.

He managed to catch me with a  knee in the gut, exploding the breath out of my body, as he drove me  up against the wall. His fists came flying, one clattering into the  side of my face and sending my brain rolling in my head.

Then his hands came at my neck,  his fingers digging into the skin and squeezing as tight as they  could. He was strong, as if possessed, his eyes bulging out of their  sockets as he squeezed and pushed me to the ground.

I ripped and battled with my  left arm but my right was weak, the bone broken. I couldn't get a  grip. I wasn't able to even close my fist and strike at him. I was  gasping for breath now, feeling my face growing red, my need for oxygen getting to the point of desperation.

The world began going black as  my eyes popped, his iron hands around my neck, starving me of life.

This was it. I was going to  die.





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