My pulse was literally in my ears. “You were attacked?” I gasped in question, unable to believe it.
Logan was stepping out of my room when his spine straightened and he jerked around. His body language had me concerned about more than just Peyton.
“Yeah. Some asshole looking to get his jollies jumped me and pulled me into an alley when I was walking to my car.”
Covering my mouth, trying to find my pulse, and feeling awful for her, I didn’t know what to say or what to ask. “But you’re not hurt?” was my only concern.
Stupid question. She was in the hospital.
Her voice was firm. “No, not really. He just scared the shit out of me.”
“What did the police say?”
She laughed. I swore she laughed. “They aren’t certain yet. I can’t ID him, so there isn’t much to go on. The creeper wore a ski mask and I didn’t get a good look at his build at all. It was just too dark. But I think I hurt him because when he took off, he limped away. The police think it was an attempted mugging gone wrong.”
I gasped again. “Did he take your purse?”
“No. Weird, right?”
“Muggers don’t usually attack you and then leave your purse behind. Why would they think that?”
“Who knows? If you ask me, the guy had an agenda.”
Still trying to process all of this, I asked, “What do you mean, he had an agenda?”
“I don’t know. Like it was a dare or a gang initiation. He grabbed me, pulled me into the alley, and with his knife, sliced through my clothing right to my stomach to start carving the letter E on it. Freak. Somehow, I managed to free the chopstick I had holding my hair up and then I plunged it into his thigh. He screamed, and someone started shouting at him. That’s when he ran. The person shouting was a homeless man. He hurried over to me and I gave him my phone to call 911. The ambulance arrived quickly and I was kept overnight for a dose of IV antibiotics, but I’m being released this morning.”
“Peyton, oh my God, a knife!” I cried. “But you’re okay? You’re certain?”
Logan was next to me now, looking really pale. “What exactly happened?” he asked, expelling all the air from his lungs.
Covering the microphone with my hand, I whispered what she’d just told me.
He bristled and looked like he wanted to jump out of his skin or maybe lose his stomach. “Ask her if he said anything,” Logan said.
Peyton was talking. “That man was really nice. I have to find him.”
Perplexed, I gave Logan a curious look. “Peyton,” I interrupted her.
“Right. I’m droning. Honestly, Elle, I’ll be fine.”
“Did the guy who attacked you say anything?” I asked her, wondering why Logan wanted to know that.
There were voices in the background. “Yeah, he told me to tell that dog he’d been warned.”
“Dog? That makes no sense.”
A noise escaped Logan’s throat. His hands were clenched into fists and he looked like he was a loaded gun and ready to shoot himself through the wall.
“Yes. I know. He was a crazy tweaker if you ask me.”
My mind became a maze of impossibility. “I’m so sorry. What hospital are you at? I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
The voices grew louder. “No, Elle, that’s not necessary. My mother is here to take me to her house. I’m so sorry, but I’ll have to miss a few days of work.”
Tears welled in my eyes. “Don’t you worry about work. What can I do for you?”
She inhaled a breath. “Nothing. Listen, I have to go—the doctor just walked in. I got everything restocked yesterday. There’s nothing for you to do today. Any deliveries made will be redelivered tomorrow, so you don’t have to go in. Tomorrow will be crazy enough for you.”
“Peyton, stop. Don’t worry—I’ll take care of everything.”
“I know. I know. I’ll call you when I get to my mother’s house.”
“Take care,” I said, and hung up.
“Tell me again, and don’t leave anything out—what exactly happened to Peyton?” Logan asked in a rush.
My voice became one giant exhalation as I told him everything, from the letter E on her stomach to what her attacker had said.
“He said the word dog. You’re sure?”
“Yes, why?”
“We have to go.” Logan’s voice was low and shaky.
Something tight twisted in my gut.
Concern.
Fear.
The unknown.
I felt myself start to tremble and pulled the sheets up to cover my naked body. “What are you talking about?”
With unrepressed determination, Logan was picking up my clothes and tossing them on the bed. My bra. My shirt. My panties. My sweatpants. “Get dressed now. We have to leave.”
Apprehension rang through me. “What’s going on?”
He stood tall, his shoulders broad, but wariness was all I could see. “Elle, please get dressed, pack a bag, and meet me downstairs. I’ll explain everything when I get you back to my hotel.”
I stood up, taking the sheet with me. “Logan, you’re scaring me. Do you think Peyton’s attack had something to do Michael and Lizzy?”
With quick strides, he came over to me and put his hands on my shoulders. “No. Peyton was attacked because she was seen with me. Now do as I said and I’ll explain everything when we get to my place.”
Fear seized me. I didn’t know what he was talking about, but I knew he was telling the truth. The question was . . . should I stay with him or should I run?
“Elle, listen to me. We need to leave. And you have to come with me. I can keep you safe.”
Safe.
Could he keep me safe?
“What about Michael and Clementine?”
“They aren’t in any danger right now. Hurry, and I promise I’ll explain.”
Drawing in a breath, I looked at him again and knew I had to trust him. “Give me ten minutes.”
With a heavy sigh, he nodded and left the room.
The air felt thinner with him gone but not necessarily any easier to breathe.
Logan eyed the cars stacked ahead as if trying to determine how he could maneuver around them. All I saw were their red taillights in a flashing line of stop and go that was never going to end. No alternate was available in the morning traffic and five miles or fifty didn’t matter—it was going to take an eternity to get to his hotel.
The day was overcast and colder than yesterday. Staring out the window, I watched the birds as they flew by, moving at a much faster speed than we were. I was feeling twitchy. I needed to know what was going on. “Talk to me.”
I could see his jaw clench. He was waging a battle from within.
“It’s okay, Logan, just tell me.
His chest rose as he inhaled a breath. “What I’m going to tell you isn’t going to paint me in a good light. I was young, and stupid. I thought I knew what I was doing, but you have to know how much I regret what happened.”
“What you did when you were younger won’t make me think any differently about you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
He let out a huff. “Trust me, it will.”
“Logan, please, tell me what you think happened to Peyton.”
He shifted in his seat and his eyes scanned every inch of me. The slow motion of his stare made my heart race even faster. He opened his mouth and it was as if a chill cascaded around us in the confined space. His tone was distant, direct, matter-of-fact. “It’s not what I think. It’s what happened.”
For as strong as I was, for as courageous as I wanted to be, I was suddenly very afraid. I pressed my lips together and stared out of the glass to wait for what came next.
It wasn’t what I expected.
His hand was on me.
Fingertips softly searching to lock between mine.
That scared me even more.
Ready to burst, I turned toward him. “Just tell me.”
Those hazel pools looked murky as they flashed at me one more time before he looked away and finally, he began to speak. “When I fifteen,” he started, “I met this girl. Her name was Emily.”