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  He exited the truck and bounded up the steps in search of the key he knew Carly usually hid on the porch. It wasn’t in any of the obvious places, so he dragged his fingers over the door frame. Bingo. He snatched it up, inserted it into the knob and let himself inside.

  Carly’s scent hit him so hard he staggered back a step. The house had apparently been closed up for a while, leaving her sweet essence to settle into the fabric.

  He inhaled deeply, drawing her into his lungs. His eyes rolled back in ecstasy, followed swiftly by pain. She wasn’t here. Her laughter had disappeared long ago as if she’d never existed. But she had, and she’d taken his soul with her.

  “Damn you, Carly.” His voice broke with the emotions choking him. He realized he’d been reduced to an obsessive lunatic with stalker tendencies, but he didn’t care. He was nothing without her, no matter what she thought.

  The look in her eyes, the touch of her hand, the way she’d come apart in his arms, he hadn’t imagined all that. No, she cared for him; he’d believe it until his dying breath.

  Logan moved about the house with determined steps, searching for clues as to Carly’s whereabouts. She’d changed her number weeks ago, and he couldn’t help but wonder if it had to do with the many messages he’d left her.

  Nothing made sense to him any longer. They hadn’t fought, or slowly grown apart over time; she’d given him her virginity and tossed him aside like yesterday’s garbage.

  He shook off his negative thoughts and moved down the hall to her bedroom. Her scent was strongest in there, alive, filling him with a euphoria he could drown in.

  Her bed taunted him, called to him, pulling at some invisible strings attached to his heart, tempting him forward. He stopped next to it, picked up her pillow and buried his face in it.

  Her flavor, the energy that made up Carly Bryson burned through his body like fire. With considerable effort he jerked back and returned it to its home. He wasn’t going to find anything at this rate, pining away over her like the love-sick fool that he was.

  Logan moved about the room, searching drawers, closets and under the bed. After coming up empty, he sifted through Cassandra’s things before striding off to the kitchen.

  He jerked the first drawer open that he came to. It was obviously a catch-all, similar to the one he had in his own home. There were receipts, a phonebook, and random pieces of paper scattered throughout the bottom, but nothing that told him where Carly or Cassandra had gone.

  The phonebook caught his attention and he fished it out. He opened the cover to the first page, and there, staring back at him was an address with the name, Aunt Frannie, above it. Logan ripped the page free and left the house, locking it behind him. He’d be willing to bet everything he owned, he’d find Cassie there.

  * * * *

  Carly’s aunt Frannie’s place was a blast from the past for Logan. The old, white farm house sat back away from the road nestled under dozens of oak trees. A bench swing hung from the porch, swaying in the breeze, much like the one his grandparents used to sit in while having their morning coffee.

  Cassandra’s car was parked in the drive next to Sarina’s and Logan pulled in behind them. They would no doubt be surprised to see him here, but he had questions only they could answer.

  He got out and approached the porch with no small amount of anxiety. Cassie met him at the door as if she’d known he would come. She stepped outside, closing the door softly behind her.

  “Frannie and Sarina are sleeping. We can talk out here.” She took a seat on one end of the swing, leaving room for him to join her.

  “You don’t seem surprised to see me here.” He sat next to her with his elbows on his knees.

  “I’m not. Although I’m not sure how you found me.”

  Logan glanced at her before returning his gaze to the ground between his boots. “I went in your house and found the address in the kitchen phonebook.”

  She jumped up and began to pace. “Shit. I have to go back. If you found me that easy, someone else—“

  “I took it with me.” He pulled the piece of paper from his pocket only to have her snatch it from his fingers.

  “Thank God.” She took up her previous seat and blew out a loud breath.

  “Why are you here, Cass? And don’t give me that bullshit about it being none of my business. Something stinks about this whole thing. First Carly runs off without a care for those who love her most, then you and Sarina? Talk to me, damn it.”

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about. Carly is gone, Logan. You need to accept that and let her go.”

  She jumped from the swing and marched toward the door. Logan’s next words stopped her in her tracks. “I love her, Cass. I’ve always loved her and I can’t go on without her.”

  Her shoulders sagged and she slowly turned to face him with tears swimming in her eyes. “I know you do. But please, I’m begging you; let this go…let her go. Please.”

  He stood and took a step toward her. “I can’t do that. I have to talk to her one more time-to tell her how much she means to me. I would die for her, Cassie, and I’ll fucking die without her.”

  Cassandra’s eyes slid shut, forcing her unshed tears to spill down her cheeks. “Forgive me, Carls.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Logan didn’t remember driving home. His brain was on information overload, but paled in comparison to the rage burning inside his chest. Carly was out there somewhere, running for her life, and she was carrying his child.

  A baby. His heart somersaulted with the knowledge. Pride filled him with the thought of their lovemaking creating a life.

  If anything happened to Carly, he’d kill his father with his bare hands. Alfred had gone too far to ensure his son would be elected, and Logan had no intension of running for office. His only regret was he that he didn’t make that clear long ago.

  He packed a bag equipped with clothes, money and his passport, just in case she’d left the country. He prayed she hadn’t as he snatched up the phone, dialing his mother, and ran out the door.

  She picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”

  “Mom, hey, it’s me. Is Dad around?” He jumped behind the wheel of his truck, and started the engine.

  “He’s out of town. I thought you knew that.” She sounded distracted, and Logan took a calming breath, praying for patience.

  “I’ve been busy. I need to know where he went, and when he left.”

  “Oh? What’s been keeping you so busy? Please tell me it’s a girl. You haven’t—“

  “Mom,” he interrupted.

  “Sorry, I get carried away sometimes.” She droned on about being forgetful and how she’d love for Logan to visit more often, until he was ready to rip his hair out by the roots.

  “I’ll stop in soon, I promise. Now tell me about Dad. I’m in a hurry.”

  “He left a couple of days ago.” She mumbled, already preoccupied with something else.

  “Do you know where he went?” Getting information from Melinda Sanders was equivalent to pulling teeth, he decided while gritting his own.

  “Somewhere in California. Let me think a minute.” She grew quiet for several seconds. He was just about to scream into the receiver when she continued. “Oh yes. Los Angeles. I wonder what he’s doing there. I can’t remember what business he had to attend to. But you know your father.”

  “Thanks, Mom. I love you.” He ended the call.

  * * * *

  Mark Gleeson was exactly as Logan predicted he would be. He’d gotten the man’s name from Cassie, and at this point was the only lead Logan had.

  “Can I help you?” Mark smiled, showing even white teeth.

  Countless bleach jobs, Logan surmised, studying the man in front of him. Logan had gone to the guy’s studio after checking the hotel only to find out what he already knew. Carly had checked out weeks before with no forwarding address.

  “I’m looking for Carly Bryson,” Logan responded.

  “Aren’t we all?
If you find the bitch, tell her she owes me thirty thousand dollars.”

  It took everything Logan had not to rip Gleeson’s throat out. If not for the fact of needing information more than the satisfaction of watching the man bleed out, the idiot would be dead by now.

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out his checkbook. After making it out for the amount of Carly’s debt, he ripped it free and handed it to the asshole. “She doesn’t owe you anything.”

  Mark accepted the payment with a grin. “She must have done something pretty bad. You’re the second person to come looking for her in the last couple of days.”

  Logan grabbed him by the collar and shoved him against the wall. “Wipe that look off your face and tell me what you know or I’ll remove your veneers one by one.”

  Fear poured off him in waves, disgusting in its cowardly stench. “She had this driver, or whatever, who never left her side. They seemed pretty tight far as I could tell.”

  Jealousy was swift. “I need a name.”

  “Ben, something or other.”

  Logan tightened his grip on Mark’s shirt.

  “Whatley. Ben Whatley,” he wheezed.

  “Who came here before me looking for her?”

  “Alfred Sanders.”

  “And what did you tell him?”

  “The same thing I told you. Only he wasn’t willing to pay anymore than he already had.”

  Logan let him go and spun on his heel. The pain of Alfred’s betrayal went bone deep. His father was solely responsible for everything Carly had been through. The one man in life Logan had always trusted had been manipulating him for years, threatening those he loved.

  He burst from Mark Gleeson’s studio, sucking in great gulps of the night air. His wolf howled in desperation, clawing just beneath the surface, fighting to be free. He needed to run before he gave into the urge and slaughtered Gleeson. But it wasn’t Mark who truly deserved to be on the receiving end of Logan’s claws, no, that privilege belonged to Alfred.

  It took enormous effort for Logan to calm down enough to hail a cab. His eyes were on fire and his hands had lengthened painfully. He slipped on his Ray-bans and climbed into the taxi’s back seat before rattling off the address of his hotel.

  “You okay, buddy?” The driver met his shaded gaze in the rearview mirror.

  “Just drive.” The deep timber of Logan’s voice ricocheted throughout the car in a guttural growl.

  “Sure thing.”

  The cab took off with a squeal, weaving in and out of traffic at a high rate of speed. The driver’s nervous energy filled the interior, feeding Logan’s beast. If he didn’t get control in the next few seconds, the cabbie would be delivering a full grown wolf to his destination. How the hell would he explain that away?

  Logan thought of Carly’s smiling face, the laughter, the hopes and dreams they’d shared over the years. A calming sensation trickled through him with the warmth of a noonday sun. She’d always had that affect on him.

  With a quick flick of his wrist, Logan opened the door before the taxi came to a full stop. He tossed a hundred dollar bill over the front seat, muttering a thank you before jumping out and entering his hotel.

  Logan had chosen to stay across the street from Alfred as opposed to masking his scent. His father could sniff out a grain of sand in coffee grounds if it had been touched previously.

  He ran up the stairs to his room and took a seat in front of the window facing his father’s hotel. With a touch of his finger, he flipped on the receiver to the bug planted in Alfred’s quarters. Money went a long way in manipulating loyalties. You taught me well, Father.

  Chapter Twenty One

  Carly stared at the plate of eggs in front of her in dread. Her mouth watered in hunger, but her stomach rebelled.

  “You must try to eat, Little One. Little Two needs the nourishment,” Ben encouraged from across the table.

  “Little Two?” You do realize that will stick with him for life.”

  Ben laughed. “Okay. Point taken. And are you so sure it’s a boy?”

  “I am. I have no idea how I know, I just do.”

  “You would be correct, Carly love. It’s a wee male you carry.”

  Carly’s chest constricted with emotion. Logan would never hold his son in his arms; never have the chance to be a father to him.

  “He’s a miracle, Ben. A precious gift from God that I will forever be grateful for.”

  “I still think you should tell Logan about the babe. He has a right to know.”

  “I can’t risk Alfred finding out. You know what he’ll do to my mother and Cassandra.”

  “There is one other alternative.” He watched her from beneath bushy eyebrows.

  “We are not killing Logan’s father, Ben. End of story.” Though it would solve everyone’s problems, the thought of taking Alfred’s life was wrong to her on so many levels.

  “Fine, but if he hurts you or the babe, all bets are off where I’m concerned. I’ll end his very existence and rid the world of his poison before he can bat an eye. Now eat. Your eggs are getting cold.”

  Carly picked up a piece of toast that rested on the side of her plate and took a small bite. She chewed with care, waiting on the inevitable gag reflex to kick in. When nothing happened, she swallowed and braved some eggs. It felt good to eat without being sick and hugging the toilet.

  “I’m going to check in with Cassandra,” Carly muttered, pushing away from the table.

  “Do you think that’s wise? Alfred is probably watching her and Sarina closely since you disappeared.”

  “But why? As long as I stay away from Logan, why would he harm them?”

  “I don’t know, but something feels off about this whole thing.”

  “Maybe because it’s fucked up,” Carly snapped, picking up her dishes to deposit in the sink.

  “Come now,” Ben soothed. “Don’t get worked up, you’ll make yourself sick again and you need to hold that food down as long as possible.”

  “I’m sorry, Ben. I have no right taking my frustrations out on you. Forgive me?”

  “There’s nothing to forgive.” He got up and wrapped her in a hug.

  Carly loved Ben. Though no one could ever replace her father, he sure made her feel cherished and safe. She thought back to the day they met. The constant jabs, insults and word sparring sessions had taken her mind off her dilemma. Which was what Ben had intended all long, she thought with a smile.

  She stepped out of his embrace and trailed off to her bedroom to call Cassandra. Carly needed to hear her voice, and find out how Sarina was doing. Maybe Cassie would have some gossip about Logan to share, although she doubted it. Cassandra never mentioned him for obvious reasons, and Carly never asked.

  The sound of her friend’s voice choked her up. It took her a second to speak. “Hey Cass.”

  “Thank God you called. I have been worried sick. Are you okay?”

  The frantic undertone in Cassandra’s voice made Carly’s stomach clench. She hated being the cause of so much distress.

  “I’m fine, really. How’s Mom?”

  “She’s shopping with Aunt Frannie, and staying busy. It’s been hard evading her questions, Carls. I won’t be able to hold her off much longer. She’s not an idiot. She knows there’s more to this than what I’ve told her.”

  Sarina had been informed that Carly had a stalker who’d threatened not only her life, but her mother’s and Cassie’s as well, and the two women needed to leave for a while until the police were able to catch the guy.

  “I know and I’m sorry, but we can’t tell her, Cass. You know what a hothead she is. She would confront Alfred and get us all killed.”

  “I’m telling you that I don’t think she’s buying the story, Carls. I can see the suspicion in her eyes when she looks at me. It may come down to having no choice but to give it to her straight. She’s smarter than you give her credit for.”

  “Just a bit longer, Cass. Please?”

  A click sounded in the
background only to be drowned out by Cassie’s gasp.

  Carly’s breath froze in her lungs. “Cassandra, are you there?”

  “Hello, Carly.” A man’s voice came over the line, confirming that Carly’s nightmare had come true.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

  “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?

  “You harm a hair on Cassandra’s head and I will—“

  “You aren’t in any position to make demands, Bitch. Now keep your mouth shut and do as I say. One wrong move on your part and your precious little friend will die a slow and painful death.”

  “Carly don’t—” The line went dead.

  The phone slipped from Carly’s numb fingers as Cassie’s plea was cut short by the dial tone.

  Ben came barreling into the room, coming up short when his gaze met Carly’s. “What’s wrong?”

  “We have to go home.”

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Logan paced the floor of his hotel room and listened to another conversation Alfred was currently engaged in. He’d sat through dozens of his father’s business calls, and worse, politics.

  He was just about to go over there and demand he take him to Carly when another call came in.

  Something in Alfred’s voice stopped him cold. “Is she injured?”

  Logan completely stilled, piecing together as much of the details as he could gather. He didn’t recognize the man his father spoke with, but it didn’t matter. They had Carly.

  The stranger’s next words sent Logan into a rage. “Not yet. Meet me at her place tomorrow at noon. And come alone or she dies.” The line went dead.

  An ear piercing howl nearly busted the bug’s receiver. Alfred’s display of emotion surprised Logan.

  A knock sounded on his father’s door, but Logan was no longer listening. He’d heard what he needed to hear. Carly was home and in the clutches of a madman.

  Logan threw his things into his bag, wondering about his father’s role in Carly’s dilemma. Obviously he wasn’t the main player in the game, but he was definitely involved somehow. Logan intended to find out.