He kissed the top of her head as he pressed one hand to her upper back, the other to her lower, and whispered, “I’ve got you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
His blood refused to turn to ice; his heart refused to slip into the frozen state in which it had once spent every waking moment. How the hell was he going to navigate this new terrain? He couldn’t let her out of his sight, but if there was any hope in hell of keeping Kutcher behind bars, he had to get to Mystic, and there was no way he was taking her anywhere near there until he was sure the threat of Kutcher was gone.
She fisted her hands in his shirt. “Where will I go? I need to pack.”
“I’ve got all your stuff. We’re leaving.”
“Where are we going?”
“Let me take care of it.” He reached into his back pocket and handed her the envelope he’d found in the cookie jar.
“I…I usually carry that in my purse, but after what happened the other night, I realized my purse could probably get stolen more easily than my apartment could be broken into. Logan, what did you find in my stuff?”
Last night she’d been attacked. This morning, outside her apartment, she’d thought he was Kutcher. He knew from her calendar how long she’d been living in fear of this man, and he wasn’t going to give Kutcher another second of power over her. He tucked her under his arm, feeling some of the tension bleed from her shoulders.
“Let’s go.”
“Please tell me where we’re going.”
“The only place I know you’ll be safe. My cabin.”
Chapter Nine
STORMY WAS QUIET on the drive out of the city. She was still fidgeting with the seam of her jeans and hugging the passenger door. They’d stopped at a market before leaving the city, and Logan had stocked up on enough groceries to tide them over for a few days and had picked up sandwiches for dinner, which they’d eaten on the way. He’d hoped she’d close her eyes and get some rest on the drive out to his cabin in the Silver Mountains in Sweetwater, New York, but he’d had no such luck. Every time he stole a glance at her, the thin layer of ice he’d held tenuously in place around his heart since they’d set out for the cabin melted a little more. It was all Logan could do not to pull her against him and help ease her worry. He told her about the tracking devices he’d found and tried to reassure her that he had a plan, although his plan was loosely threaded at the moment, overshadowed by the need to get her to safety. He had less than seventy-two hours to get to Kutcher, and come hell or high water, he’d nail the bastard.
It was dark by the time they wove up the mountain road, led by streaks of moonlight carving paths through the trees. Stormy made a sad noise in her throat that tugged at Logan, wiping away the last of his resolve. He reached for her hand, and for a split second their eyes connected before he had to turn back to the road. In that instant he saw deep wells of sorrow. He wished he were driving his father’s old truck, which he kept at the cabin, instead of his car. It had a bench seat, and he could have held her close while he drove.
He turned down the dirt driveway and stopped the car in front of the iron gate. The hell with professional distance. Distance was the last thing she needed. She’d had distance for as long as she’d been running. He unhooked his seat belt and hauled his thick body over the console to pull her against him. Her body was rigid at first as he stroked her back. “I’ve got you. You’re safe with me.”
Darkness peered through the windows, keeping the sounds of night at bay and leaving them in a bubble of silence. He could have held her all night right there on the secluded drive on the Silver Mountains, but he wanted her safe and comfortable. He touched his forehead to hers.
“Hey.”
She lifted a tenuous gaze.
“I’ve got you.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead.
For the first time, she looked fragile. Her eyes were soft, her shoulders low. Her walls were coming down, and that made Logan’s protective impulses even stronger. He’d been on high alert as they’d left the city and had taken the long way to the property to avoid being tailed. There hadn’t been a single set of taillights for the last twenty miles.
He settled back into his seat and used the remote to open the gate, still holding her hand. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes as he drove up the long dark driveway toward the cabin.
Logan parked the car and flicked a code on the remote. Porch and floodlights illuminated a thirty-foot area around the two-bedroom cabin.
“Where are we?”
“Silver Rock Mountains, upstate New York. I own two hundred acres. You’ll be safe here. I’ve got surveillance cameras throughout the property, but there’s no need to worry,” he assured her. “No one knows you’re here.”
“Wow. You’re like one of those guys in the movies, where in a few hours you can become invisible.” She sighed as she unhooked her seat belt. “What I wouldn’t give for that skill.”