Page 29 of Logan

I’d also never known they had been operating for so long. Based on Clay’s description, they’d probably been targeting kids for decades. Long enough for them to give themselves a title, as if they were a legitimate organization.

In their twisted minds, they probably were.

Breathing deeply and biting the inside of my cheek, I controlled my reaction so I didn’t startle Clay. He likely didn’t realize the importance of what he’d revealed. He didn’t need that added stress on top of everything. Investigating criminals was my responsibility and I would handle it.

Clay’s eyes were drooping. Although he was trying to stay awake, after his emotional outburst, he no longer had the energy to continue that fight and was quickly succumbing to sleep.

After wishing him a good night, I stood to leave, already reaching into my pocket to grab my phone so I could pass on the information I’d just learned.

Before I could make it even a foot from the bed, something tugged on my sleeve. I looked down to find Clay nervously glancing at me from the corner of his eye, like he couldn’t bear to stare straight at me.

“Could you… could you stay?”

“Stay?” I eyed the empty side of his bed. “Is that a good idea?”

“I just?—”

His expression suddenly smoothed out, like someone had ironed all the emotion out of his skin leaving nothing but blank thoughtlessness behind. “Never mind. It’s stupid. You’ll be more comfortable in your own bed.”

At the sight of that blank look on his face, all my doubts vanished. Without another word, I turned off the room lights and slipped under the covers beside him. The bed was big enough that we didn’t have to touch so long as we each kept to our side, so I moved the pillow as close to the edge as I could without falling off.

At first, Clay didn’t even acknowledge me, and I was content to be ignored the rest of the night. However, after a few minutes, tentative fingers gripped onto my shirt.

“Thanks.”

That was all he said, though it was already more than I expected. There were plenty of phone calls I would need to make in the morning. I should at least call Roland, as he had worked the “Bell ringer” case with me and would be able to get started investigating the new information immediately, and it would probably be a good idea to tell Sebastian as well, since he was pursuing a similar case.

For tonight, however, I was happy to play the role of guard dog.

CHAPTER 12

Clay

Logan’srandom selection of music had landed us on a selection of eighties music. The morning of the sixth day of our trip was spent rocking out to songs fromMadonna,Guns N’ Roses, andDuran Duran. Logan never asked why I curated the music before listening to it, but I could tell he knew the reason.

“Angel” was an unfortunately common word that popped up in many lyrics. Like walking through a field laced with hidden landmines. If I didn’t already know the song, I could be enjoying myself one minute, then trip right into an explosion of unwanted memories.

I used to love Christmas as a kid, but now the season put me into a constant state of anxiety due to all the angel imagery.

Michael Jackson’s songBeat Ithad just ended, with Logan and I singing along out of turn, when we passed a sign that said, “Welcome to Maryland.” Since my breakdown a few days ago, I’d stopped paying attention to the miles passing by and just enjoyed my time with Logan. It had been so long since I actuallyfelt safe with someone that nothing else seemed to matter. I’d nearly forgotten the reason we were driving to Maryland in the first place.

There was only about two hundred miles between us and our destination.

Two hundred miles until I saw my brother again.

Panic surged hot in my gut, and I could taste the pancakes I’d had for breakfast coming back up again.

“Pull over.”

I had no idea what my face looked like, but it must have been dramatic. Logan didn’t even wait to find a rest stop, and just pulled immediately over to the side of the freeway.

I stumbled out of the door before the car had even been put in park and ran to the side of the road to throw up over the concrete barrier.

My throat burned with bile, and my eyes were watering so badly that the world looked blurry around me. Through it all, Logan’s hand trailed over my back, soothing my fevered skin even through my clothes.

“Sorry,” I croaked as I stood back up. By now, I wasn’t even surprised when Logan’s only response was to hand me a tissue to wipe my mouth and a bottle of water.

We stood there for about fifteen minutes by the side of the road, waiting for me to compose myself. Part of me wanted to immediately get back in the car and finish the trip while another part of me wanted to run in the other direction away from this whole crazy idea before I could get hurt again.

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