balcony door shutting. I sit up in bed and draw the covers to my chest as I look around. I rub my eyes with my hands trying to focus through the darkness of the room. Logan has turned off all of the lights, and it’s pitch black. I reach over to find the sheets on his side still vacant and cool to the touch. I don’t know how long it’s been since I got up to check on him earlier, but I’m guessing I’ve been dozing in and out for at least an hour or so.
I sit up and let the covers fall, then stand on my unsteady legs, and make my way to the balcony doors. As I reach the door I see a blur of movement to my left. I plant my forehead against the glass door for a better view, but all I’m able to make out is Logan’s form as he leaps from the rooftop to an old oak tree branch. I go to crack the door but he lands in a crouch and swivels on the balls of his feet, his eyes taking in everything around him.
I don’t know why but I move to the side and hide behind the drapes that have been drawn aside. After a minute of standing as still as a statue, and wondering what the hell I’m hiding for, I finally gain the courage to look back outside. Logan is nowhere to be seen. I open the door and step out onto the balcony and lean over the railing to get a better look. Nothing.
What in the hell could he possibly be doing at this hour? The cool breeze causes goose bumps to rise on my flesh so I step back inside and shut the door behind me. My bladder chooses this exact moment to remind me that I have zero tolerance for long periods between bathroom breaks. I walk hurriedly to the bathroom and tend to my needs and then wash my hands.
As I’m turning to walk back to the bedroom I notice Logan’s laptop still sitting on the bathroom floor. The screensaver is flashing across the screen from where his session has timed out.
I don’t know what comes over me, but I can’t resist the temptation to snoop. With his abrupt departure in the middle of the night, and a conveniently open laptop…who the hell could pass this up? Certainly not this girl! I squat down, then take a seat and pull it onto my lap. When I touch the mouse pad it automatically opens up to his email account. There aren’t any new messages but the cursor is still flashing on the one he opened last.
Hmmm…should I, or shouldn’t I? That is the million dollar question. My hands shake as my nerves take over, and I cautiously look out into the room to make sure he isn’t coming back. Before my opportunity runs out I quickly click on the most current email. It opens up instantly.
Subject: Orders
Attack on homefront. Secure package immediately and bring to the compound. The time is now.
What the heck is that supposed to mean? What package? Attack on homefront? What in the world is he involved in—better yet, what have I gotten myself involved in? I look down to see another email, this one a few months old, and quickly move the cursor over it and click.
Subject: Urgent
Your information was accurate. We have located the girl. Come at once.
I’ve never been one to assume anything; but everything about our chance meeting, the rendezvous at the club, and now this. My stomach rolls as anxiety begins to settle in my gut like soured milk. Nausea makes my mouth water, and my already shot nerves cause my head to spin. I go back to the main screen and set the laptop back where I found it.
As I stand, my legs tremble a little, and I’m forced to grab the doorjamb to steady myself. Question after question runs through my mind. My thoughts grow louder and louder, but the all consuming thought that makes my heart stutter, and my chest ache with pain is… why ?
He’s secretive, obviously leads another life I’m completely unaware of, and he’s lied to me. The betrayal hurts like nothing else. What is Logan Thatcher hiding and how does it involve me?
I make my way back to the bed and crawl under the covers. As I lie there and stare at the ceiling, I begin to wonder if
I sit up and let the covers fall, then stand on my unsteady legs, and make my way to the balcony doors. As I reach the door I see a blur of movement to my left. I plant my forehead against the glass door for a better view, but all I’m able to make out is Logan’s form as he leaps from the rooftop to an old oak tree branch. I go to crack the door but he lands in a crouch and swivels on the balls of his feet, his eyes taking in everything around him.
I don’t know why but I move to the side and hide behind the drapes that have been drawn aside. After a minute of standing as still as a statue, and wondering what the hell I’m hiding for, I finally gain the courage to look back outside. Logan is nowhere to be seen. I open the door and step out onto the balcony and lean over the railing to get a better look. Nothing.
What in the hell could he possibly be doing at this hour? The cool breeze causes goose bumps to rise on my flesh so I step back inside and shut the door behind me. My bladder chooses this exact moment to remind me that I have zero tolerance for long periods between bathroom breaks. I walk hurriedly to the bathroom and tend to my needs and then wash my hands.
As I’m turning to walk back to the bedroom I notice Logan’s laptop still sitting on the bathroom floor. The screensaver is flashing across the screen from where his session has timed out.
I don’t know what comes over me, but I can’t resist the temptation to snoop. With his abrupt departure in the middle of the night, and a conveniently open laptop…who the hell could pass this up? Certainly not this girl! I squat down, then take a seat and pull it onto my lap. When I touch the mouse pad it automatically opens up to his email account. There aren’t any new messages but the cursor is still flashing on the one he opened last.
Hmmm…should I, or shouldn’t I? That is the million dollar question. My hands shake as my nerves take over, and I cautiously look out into the room to make sure he isn’t coming back. Before my opportunity runs out I quickly click on the most current email. It opens up instantly.
Subject: Orders
Attack on homefront. Secure package immediately and bring to the compound. The time is now.
What the heck is that supposed to mean? What package? Attack on homefront? What in the world is he involved in—better yet, what have I gotten myself involved in? I look down to see another email, this one a few months old, and quickly move the cursor over it and click.
Subject: Urgent
Your information was accurate. We have located the girl. Come at once.
I’ve never been one to assume anything; but everything about our chance meeting, the rendezvous at the club, and now this. My stomach rolls as anxiety begins to settle in my gut like soured milk. Nausea makes my mouth water, and my already shot nerves cause my head to spin. I go back to the main screen and set the laptop back where I found it.
As I stand, my legs tremble a little, and I’m forced to grab the doorjamb to steady myself. Question after question runs through my mind. My thoughts grow louder and louder, but the all consuming thought that makes my heart stutter, and my chest ache with pain is… why ?
He’s secretive, obviously leads another life I’m completely unaware of, and he’s lied to me. The betrayal hurts like nothing else. What is Logan Thatcher hiding and how does it involve me?
I make my way back to the bed and crawl under the covers. As I lie there and stare at the ceiling, I begin to wonder if
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