Reunited in Danger (15 page)

“What’d she say?” Logan asked Foster as he climbed to the deck, his face pinched and
worried.

“She said ‘watch out for the baby.’”

Logan guided the woman to a padded seat on the boat deck and optimism rose within
him. Did she mean the girl was her baby or did she mean something else?

The woman laid the girl gently on the cushions.

He froze. The young girl’s stomach protruded, round and pregnant. His goal of saving
everyone aboard was crushed, because there was little chance this girl would survive.

Chapter Fourteen

Logan scrambled along the boat deck and knelt beside the girl. He hurled his gas mask
aside. Sweat trickled down his spine. A cold wind whipped through the repair yard
and he shivered. “Get a medic down here,” he yelled to Hank. He checked the girl’s
wrist and neck for a pulse. Thready, but it was there.

“Come on, come on.” He rubbed her hand, willed her to hang on.

She didn’t respond. He needed to try harder.

“Christ, Logan,” Quinn said, hustling beside him, shaking the vessel. “She’s covered
in filth. Wait for the EMTs.”

Logan focused on the girl and her struggled breathing. If only they’d known about
the boat earlier. How long had it been docked here?

The EMTs scrambled aboard and came at a quick jog, carrying a stretcher. “Weak pulse,
shallow breathing,” Logan told them. He scrambled a few feet away to allow the medics
to get closer.

As they readied their equipment and started working on the girl, he wiped the back
of his hand along his pants and looked at the line of battered, mistreated women who
sat against the cinder block building. They’d likely been brought here to be turned
into prostitutes. In spite of their awful journey, they held their chins high and
drank from their water bottles, glancing around with wide eyes at the surroundings.
If police and SWAT hadn’t intercepted this “delivery” tonight, that pride would have
been beaten out of them as their pimps and “owners” trained them.

Quinn handed Logan a water bottle and he took a big gulp, letting the water drip down
his chin, down his neck, like a long, quiet teardrop.

“She’s in pretty bad shape, but baby’s heartbeat sounds strong,” one of the medics
said. “We need to get them to the hospital.”

Logan clenched his jaw and leaned against the boat railing as they moved the stretcher
past him, focusing on the sight of police loading the twenty-four victims into a paddy
wagon. The three monsters who’d come to transfer them into a van were now cuffed and
being escorted into the back of separate patrol cars.

A small victory for the good guys.

But it still made him sick.

Uniformed police brought a box up from below. Something in it caught Logan’s eye.
“Wait,” he said, stopping the officer. A briefcase sat perched atop the box.
Holy crap
. A briefcase identical to Ben’s. And Dave’s, Craig’s, and Charlie’s. With the unique
double-heart logo tooled into the front. He shined his flashlight on the case. No
engraving, no further clue.

He donned a pair of gloves and clicked the briefcase open.
Empty
.

He swore softly. No way this was a coincidence. The girls in the back of Craig Bittinger’s
car, the pregnant runaway whose family had originally been from Thailand… He smelled
a connection.

At the station, he filled out the required forms about the crime, took a shower, and
changed into clean clothes. While still in the locker room, he got word that the baby
had been delivered by C-section but the mother had died, never having regained consciousness.

Shit.

Logan knew exactly where he needed to be. He glanced at his cell phone. Three o’clock
in the morning.

He needed Keely.

He didn’t deserve her, shouldn’t bother her. Selfish bastard that he was, he needed
to be around someone clean and good, needed to wipe away the dirt he carried inside
and out, from the cruel world he dealt with on a daily basis.

Some men and women from the department turned to alcohol to deaden the pain of the
injustice they witnessed every day. Logan’s vice was Keely. Even when he’d been stationed
in Afghanistan, she’d never been far from his thoughts.

Fifteen minutes later, he stood on her front stoop with his finger poised to ring
the bell. He dropped his hand to his side. He shouldn’t be so selfish. And yet after
years of keeping a quiet watch over her, making sure her life went well, forcing himself
to keep a distance because he knew it was the right thing to do for her, he didn’t
have the strength to stay away from her tonight. Even if it was for her own good.

He’d phone her. Wouldn’t even tell her he was on her front steps. Make it easier for
her to turn him away, if that’s what she wanted.

Perched on the bottom step of her front stoop, he dialed her number and watched the
late-night stars sparkle in the dark sky. A cool breeze whipped down between the rows
of homes, rustling the few remaining leaves on the small trees planted near the curbs.

After one ring, Keely picked up. “Logan?” she asked, her voice groggy.

The image of her sleep-heavy eyelids and soft lips against the phone as she sat up
in a halter top or T-shirt and not much else chased into his thoughts.

“Do you feel like company?” He kept his voice low, part of him hoping she would say
no so she could protect herself from him.

“You okay?” Bed sheets rustled in the background and he pictured her sitting up, her
sleep-tossed hair tangled around her face.

“Yeah. I’m okay.”

“Where are you?”

He considered a lie. If he said he was at headquarters, she might tell him to go home,
get a good night’s rest. “On your front stoop.”

“I’ll be right there.” She hung up.

Within thirty seconds, she unlatched the front door and held it open.

He sucked in a breath when he realized the mental image he’d had of her had been correct.
She stood in front of him with tousled brown hair, wearing only a loose purple T-shirt.

He stepped inside and latched the door. Before he could change his mind, he turned
and pulled her into his arms.

If he could come home to a comfort like Keely every night, all would be well in his
world.

…

One look in Logan’s dark eyes and Keely wanted to wrap her arms around him and hold
him until his pain disappeared. The hope that had begun to build in her earlier grew
stronger because he was here. Proof that they had a chance at a relationship. Being
with Logan made her happy in ways no other man had made her feel.

His leather scent tantalized her nose and she pressed closer, wrapping her arms around
his strong waist. She slid her hands up his back and held him against her, sensing
he needed to be held tight. The firm grip of his arms around her shoulders made her
want to share her strength with him.

“You’re so good, Keels,” he whispered. “So good.”

He ran his hands up and down her back, caressing her, holding her close. There was
nowhere else in the world she’d rather be. They held each other, rocking back and
forth like the quiet surf on a beach, for over a minute.

Keely massaged him, kneaded the skin on his back, and the tension eased out of his
muscles gradually.

“Keels.” His husky voice vibrated in the small entryway and he laid his hands on her
shoulders.

Her breath hitched and she closed her eyes, treasuring the feel of him, knowing this
could be the start of many nights in each others’ arms.

She lifted her face and gazed into his brown eyes—somehow suddenly a deeper, darker
shade—and drew in a deep breath before letting it out while she studied the look on
his face. In the dim hall light, shadows danced on his face and pain darted through
his gaze. She’d do anything to make him better.

Keeping her gaze on his, she dragged her hands to his abdomen. He sucked in a breath
and his muscles bunched.

His eyes changed. The pained look morphed into a hungry one. He moved his hands up
and down her arms, warming her with the heat radiating from his palms.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she murmured. He needed comfort, and God help her, she loved
being the one to give it to him, show him the world was a better place than he thought.

He touched his lips to hers, a feathery kiss that left her wanting more. He slid his
tongue between her lips and her body hummed with need. With a touch so gentle it made
her eyes tear, he held the sides of her face in both his palms and searched her mouth
with his.

In the dim light, she pulled them both down to their knees on the rug and undressed
him, kissing the exposed skin with each piece of clothing she removed.

He grunted, low in his throat, every inch of him naked and in front of her, his need
for her obvious. With a slow smile, he pulled her T-shirt over her head.

“Nice,” he said. With his gaze locked to hers, he massaged her breast with his calloused
palm. Ripples of pleasure shot through her body. He dipped his head and his hot breath
teased her other breast before he flicked his tongue over the peaked nipple.

She drew a shaking breath as his hands cupped her bottom. How could one man make her
feel so wanted, so alive, so completely insane with need for him? Every nerve in her
body screamed to be touched.

“I’ve been thinking of you a lot tonight, Keels,” he whispered, his breath hot on
her earlobe.

His words turned her on even more than his hands. She’d been on his mind? As he’d
been on hers?

“I’ve been thinking of how much I need you.”

“I need you, too,” she said, barely able to get the words out over the lump in her
throat. With trembling fingers, she combed her hand through his hair, bringing his
head closer, giving him all of herself.

She’d appreciate this for what it was. She’d love him for this second, without worrying
about what it might mean tomorrow. Still, her heart fluttered. Maybe things were different
this time. They’d make it work, they’d find a way.

…

Logan jolted awake to music. He frowned for a few seconds before realizing a pop song
came from Keely’s cell phone on the nightstand. Sunlight streamed between two maroon
curtains. He smiled and stretched as Keely reached for her phone, exposing her upper
half. He itched to reach out, palm her pert breasts as he’d done last night, but reined
his instincts in to give her peace for the phone call.

The LED display on the bedside clock read seven-thirty.

“Nevaeh?” Keely answered. She propped herself up and tried to yank the sheet over
her naked body with one hand while holding the phone in the other.

Her long brown hair was tousled and again he had to fight the desire to touch her,
run his hands through it. He groaned at the sight of her bare breasts. May as well
be a gentleman. Reaching out, he helped her wrench the sheet to her shoulders.

“No.” Keely’s hushed words echoed around her bedroom and blood rushed from her face.

He froze.

“I’ll be right there,” she managed.

She punched a button on her phone and stared blankly across the room. She tightened
her jaw and he knew her well enough to know it was an old habit that kept her from
crying. He’d once seen her hit in the face with a basketball—hard—and she swallowed
her tears by doing the same thing at age fourteen.

“Anything I can do?” he asked.

As if she just remembered his presence, she swung to face him. “That man I told you
about when we were in the crack house—no, not a man, a
monster
. The one who was in jail? He made bail. Stole his three-year-old boy from the relative’s
house where he was placed, and has now beaten his son so badly that the kid’s fighting
for his life at the hospital. And the kid’s sister Melita is still missing. Something
bad has happened to that little girl.” Keely tightened her jaw even more.

He shook his head and pulled her close, wishing he could erase her pain. “It’s not
easy seeing bad guys walk free.”

She glanced up and attempted a smile, but her lips were pressed too tightly together
to move except at the corners.

“I’m sorry.” She kissed the palm of his hand, wriggled out of his grasp and scooted
to the edge of the bed. “I need to get to the hospital. There’s probably nothing I
can do, but I feel like I need to be there…just in case.”

“Want a ride?” Logan scrubbed a hand over his jaw.

She stood and slipped into a pink robe. Facing him, she belted it, a clouded look
in her eyes. He wanted to tell her she was beautiful, but it was the wrong time.

“No, thanks. I’ll take a shower and go. And you should get some more rest.” She slid
out of the room.

“I’ll make coffee,” he said. But he wasn’t sure she heard him as she shut the bathroom
door behind her.

He’d never been in Keely’s house before, but signs of her taste and personality permeated
the place—plants near every window, new granite countertops, antique books in piles.
Her house offered a welcoming warmth that he never seemed to obtain at his own house.

He rooted through the kitchen cupboards, searching for the coffee. Her organization
impressed him. He’d learned some organizational skills in the Marines, but she’d have
put even the most diligent major to shame. He found the tin of dark roasted beans
and set to work making a pot of coffee. The aroma filled the room as he opened and
closed cupboards, hoping to find something to feed her.

Canned goods were sorted not just by variety, but also by size. He couldn’t spot even
one almost-empty pizza box, discarded beer can, or dirty dish in the sink.

His gut pinged. What would it be like to live with Keely? He’d have to be neater,
more organized, but he’d make adjustments if it meant being with her. The cushy job
offer in Texas was starting to sound a little boring. And lonely.

He shook his head. Where the hell had that thought come from?

He stared at her tidy house. She’d accepted him last night, helped him forget the
painful sight of innocent women who’d been forced to endure horrible conditions. She
deserved someone with a better track record. Had he changed enough in ten years to
believe he could be with her permanently? Keely thought so, but he didn’t. God, it
felt good to think about the possibility, though.

Maybe she was right about the kid in Afghanistan. It’s possible a soldier without
an abusive background would have done the same thing as he had. Maybe.

She’d been like a balm on a sore wound last night. Not just the sex, either. She’d
held on to him when he’d walked through the door and he’d let her take his pain away.
And then, after they’d made love, she’d reached for him, held him tight for the rest
of the night. Yeah. He could get used to sleeping like that.