the adjoining chair that was next to her,
confident that she wasn’t going to run from the room -- yet. If
there was anything he knew about civilians, it was that they craved
help -- no matter how much their mind might tell them otherwise.
Claire was in trouble, and she wouldn’t have given in that little
piece of information if she wasn’t somehow desperate for
help.
He tried a more gentle attack. “Claire, you
know I was in the marines.”
She nodded, even though it hadn’t been a
question. She wouldn’t meet his eyes, but the more time wore on,
the more her shoulders curled. And the more she caved.
“And you know I can get you better
protection...”
She stiffened, then her body shuddered. She
raised a hand to her face, trying to wipe at her eyes. “I just need
to know who you’re running from, and then I can help you. You’d be
safe here. Don’t you miss feeling safe?” he asked quietly,
appealing to her sense of vulnerability. It had been a tactic that
he’d used to many times with children who refused to leave cages
he’d found them in, for fear of getting beat to death by their
abuser.
Right now, it felt like he was doing the exact
same thing but with Claire.
Her hands weren’t clenched so tight in her lap
now. “I would be putting everyone else in danger
though...”
“My men know how to take care of themselves.
You don’t deal with roudy bulls without learning a couple of
things,” he said lightly.
“I don’t know...” She worried her lip, rubbing
her face with her hands. He took hold of her wrist, gently this
time.
“Feel how stressed you are? Scared? I can take
care of that,” he promised. “I just need to know who you’re running
from.”
Claire swallowed. Her head fell back. The light
from the ceiling reflected off of her damp cheeks, and then, with a
weak voice, “I can’t just start in the middle.”
“Then explain from the beginning,” he coaxed,
taking her hand and running his thumb over the soft
skin.
She was silent, didn’t speak for so long that
Logan would have thought she’d forgotten what to say. But then she
said, “My dad is one of the Senators of Iowa. Their cutting chairs,
and...and that means the Senators of that state have to go through
a re-election, and one of them is getting cut and...” She paused,
catching her rambling.
“Well, the other three chairs are a kick-in. No
one wants to vote them out. But it’s between my dad
and...”
“And Joey Smith,” he finished, having heard
about it on the news. Not enough to remember anything more from it,
he wasn’t even from Iowa but -- “Senator Campbell. His daughter
died in a car accident...”
Claire swallowed thickly, looking pained. “That
was me.”
He nodded, slowly understanding. “So I’m
guessing that Smith is after you.”
Claire looked away from him. “He thinks that if
he can kill me, then my father will be too devastated to continue
the election and will drop out, making him default on the remaining
chair.”
“But I thought you ‘died in a car accident’,”
he pointed out.
“Daddy warned me that Joey might find out I’m
not really dead. He wouldn’t do the dirty work by himself, though.
The election is too important for him to leave Iowa for... He’d
send someone after me.”
Logan nodded, knowing exactly what she was
saying and that she was right. Bluntly, he would hire someone to
kill Claire should they ever find out she was really
alive.
He knew what his men were capable, what they
had done together in the past, and he knew that something like this
was no threat at all. He could have them out here in less than a
day and Claire could stay with him -- it would be ten times easier
to keep her safe than following her everywhere -- even though he
was willing to do so.
“If I can promise your safety, will
you stay here? Running won’t keep you safe. If they find out you’re
alive, they can track you so quickly that you’d be dead the second
they did. If you’re with
confident that she wasn’t going to run from the room -- yet. If
there was anything he knew about civilians, it was that they craved
help -- no matter how much their mind might tell them otherwise.
Claire was in trouble, and she wouldn’t have given in that little
piece of information if she wasn’t somehow desperate for
help.
He tried a more gentle attack. “Claire, you
know I was in the marines.”
She nodded, even though it hadn’t been a
question. She wouldn’t meet his eyes, but the more time wore on,
the more her shoulders curled. And the more she caved.
“And you know I can get you better
protection...”
She stiffened, then her body shuddered. She
raised a hand to her face, trying to wipe at her eyes. “I just need
to know who you’re running from, and then I can help you. You’d be
safe here. Don’t you miss feeling safe?” he asked quietly,
appealing to her sense of vulnerability. It had been a tactic that
he’d used to many times with children who refused to leave cages
he’d found them in, for fear of getting beat to death by their
abuser.
Right now, it felt like he was doing the exact
same thing but with Claire.
Her hands weren’t clenched so tight in her lap
now. “I would be putting everyone else in danger
though...”
“My men know how to take care of themselves.
You don’t deal with roudy bulls without learning a couple of
things,” he said lightly.
“I don’t know...” She worried her lip, rubbing
her face with her hands. He took hold of her wrist, gently this
time.
“Feel how stressed you are? Scared? I can take
care of that,” he promised. “I just need to know who you’re running
from.”
Claire swallowed. Her head fell back. The light
from the ceiling reflected off of her damp cheeks, and then, with a
weak voice, “I can’t just start in the middle.”
“Then explain from the beginning,” he coaxed,
taking her hand and running his thumb over the soft
skin.
She was silent, didn’t speak for so long that
Logan would have thought she’d forgotten what to say. But then she
said, “My dad is one of the Senators of Iowa. Their cutting chairs,
and...and that means the Senators of that state have to go through
a re-election, and one of them is getting cut and...” She paused,
catching her rambling.
“Well, the other three chairs are a kick-in. No
one wants to vote them out. But it’s between my dad
and...”
“And Joey Smith,” he finished, having heard
about it on the news. Not enough to remember anything more from it,
he wasn’t even from Iowa but -- “Senator Campbell. His daughter
died in a car accident...”
Claire swallowed thickly, looking pained. “That
was me.”
He nodded, slowly understanding. “So I’m
guessing that Smith is after you.”
Claire looked away from him. “He thinks that if
he can kill me, then my father will be too devastated to continue
the election and will drop out, making him default on the remaining
chair.”
“But I thought you ‘died in a car accident’,”
he pointed out.
“Daddy warned me that Joey might find out I’m
not really dead. He wouldn’t do the dirty work by himself, though.
The election is too important for him to leave Iowa for... He’d
send someone after me.”
Logan nodded, knowing exactly what she was
saying and that she was right. Bluntly, he would hire someone to
kill Claire should they ever find out she was really
alive.
He knew what his men were capable, what they
had done together in the past, and he knew that something like this
was no threat at all. He could have them out here in less than a
day and Claire could stay with him -- it would be ten times easier
to keep her safe than following her everywhere -- even though he
was willing to do so.
“If I can promise your safety, will
you stay here? Running won’t keep you safe. If they find out you’re
alive, they can track you so quickly that you’d be dead the second
they did. If you’re with
Similar Books
