Page 203 of Keeping Kasey
And with that, I don’t care about anything Leon has to say. Nothing is keeping me from Kasey now.
No one stops me when I rush to her side, kneeling on the floor and hovering over her, with no clue how I can possibly help. The pill bottle in my pocket seems pitiful compared to the damage that’s been done.
“Ready the cars,” Leon barks to his men, then looks down on me with gross satisfaction as he says, “I do hope you survive this. As I said, I’m curious to see what it is you will do next.”
With that, Leon Diaz and his soldiers leave the cabin. They pile into the three white trucks, but not before slashing the tires on the sedan. It’s to ensure we can’t stop him from poaching the traitors, but leaving us stranded in this weather is effectively a death sentence.
Tears spring to my eyes for the first time since I can remember. As I cradle Kasey’s bruised cheek in my palm, I hope beyond reason that, somehow, I can get us out of this.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Kasey
I cling to sleep with bloody knuckles.
A persistent stinging calls me toward consciousness, but every time I wander close, excruciating pain reverberates through me and I rush back to the darkness.
I wish it would stop completely. I just want to sleep.
Mutterings and short gasps are barely registered by my brain, and that’s fine by me. I don’t try to make out the shaky, pleading words. If I do, it’ll only drag me closer to the pain I’m so desperately trying to flee.
Despite my efforts, the soft rumbling of an apology seeps through my consciousness just before a sudden burn jolts up my shoulder.
My eyes pop open, and a cry breaks past my cracked and bloody lips. Agony explodes through every inch of my body, but I still bring my hands up to protect my face as I frantically search for Rex’s mangy features.
Tears fill my eyes the second they lock on Logan’s.
“You’re okay, beautiful. Everything is okay,” he says, and steady hands coax my arms down.
He came.
My throat is bone-dry, but I force the raspy words out. “What are you doing here?”
Logan kneels beside the couch—his expression a mix of concern, fear, and affection—and I notice for the first time the absence of Leon Diaz and his men.
“I thought we deserved a weekend away,” he says with a weak smile and a gesture around the cabin. “What do you think?”
Wind howls from the violent storm outside, shaking the small house, and even without hearing what I’ve missed, our dire situation isn’t lost on me.
Still, even if only to see his smile grow, I play along.
“Wow,” I say with a shaky breath that causes a deep ache in my ribs. “You really splurged on the place.”
“Costs approximately your salary, so it’s the most expensive vacation we’ll ever take.”
“You can top it,” I assure him. “I’ve always wanted a private island.”
Logan leans in close, and I suspect the only reason he doesn’t rest his forehead on mine is because it, too, is covered in bruises.
“If you want an island, I will buy you an island.”
It’s the husky desperation in his tone that sends my heart plummeting to the pit of my stomach.
“Here,” he says, digging into his pocket and pulling out a pill bottle. He pours four into his hand and holds them out to me. “It’s not much, but it’ll help.”
He places the pills in my mouth and lifts a glass of water to my lips. I swallow the pills and chug the entire glass.
I clear my throat and ask again, “What are you doing here?”
