LOGAN

Everything around me feels empty. The car. My head. My heart. I couldn't force Maisy to stay even though everything inside me wanted to. The last time she left because she was running away from something. This time, despite what I wanted to believe, she left because she wanted to.

I had to accept that.

My timing with Maisy was always off, and now that chapter of my life was closed for good. I push off the steering wheel, my body flooding with hurt and anger. I can't believe I let myself get snared up in her shit again. It was like this girl was designed solely to breeze into my life and leave a path of destruction behind her.

And I willingly get caught up in the chaos each and every time.

I stare over at the open garage and picture Maisy inside. Any minute now she'll be pulling out and driving out of my life for good. It's probably for the best. Maybe she was right. Maybe I don't know who she is anymore. Maybe I never did. But I still don't think I can handle sitting here and watching her leave.

I go to turn on the ignition and happen to see Maisy's phone laying there in the console between the seats. My heart sinks and I stop what I'm doing. Why did she have to leave it behind? One goodbye was already painful enough, now I was going to have to endure another. I turn off the engine and pick up the phone, begrudgingly climbing out of the car. The last thing I want to do is go through this all over again.

I slam my door shut behind me and walk towards the garage, knowing that I'm going to look like a total tool showing up with her phone in my hand, but what else am I supposed to do. I stomp up the gravel yard and head towards the open garage door. I have no idea what I'm going to say, and the thought of having to do it all in front of Mel, the owner, doesn't make me feel any better. Despite being my father's direct competition, they were friends and I knew whatever happened between Maisy and me would go right back to my dad.

I step into the dim garage, inhaling the familiar smell of motor oil and scanning the stations either for Mel or Maisy. A country song is blasting out of the radio behind me, and I reach over and turn the volume down. "Mel?" I call out. No one answers so I move further back in the garage.

"Maisy?" I try again, but it's still eerily silent in here. I keep going. I know there is a door that leads to the back; maybe they're out there with Maisy's car.

As soon as I step around the hood on an old minivan I see Mel on the floor. Adrenaline courses through me and my eyes dart around, taking in the blood, his cold body, and Maisy's bag spilled out around him. I bend down and check his pulse, keeping one eye peeled, but he's already cold.

A car door slams and I whip my head in the direction of the sound before charging towards the back exit. I dodge half built engines and workbenches stacked with tools, grabbing a tire iron resting up against a spare wheel and stepping outside in time to see a big guy in a dark suit getting into a black sedan. He starts the engine and pulls out of the lot.

Maisy.

I dig my cell phone out of my pocket, speed dialing my friend on the force while racing back to my car. Robby picks up right when I start the engine and I manage to give him the details of what's just happened while peeling out onto the street. When I turn the corner I spot the black sedan and despite what Robby is telling me, I continue to follow it.

"Logan, what are you doing? This guy most likely killed Mel!"

"I'm not letting her out of my sight," I tell him, thinking only of Maisy while I tail the sedan up Claremont and across the bridge towards the docks. A million scenarios run through my mind. I imagine her tied up in the trunk, bleeding out in the backseat, or even dead back at the garage, tucked away in some corner that I missed. I have no idea what I'm doing, but my gut tells me that Maisy's in that car and I know she needs me.

The car slows down and comes to a stop in front of a nondescript warehouse. I give Robby the address and hang up on him before he can offer any more advice that I'm not going to follow. I pull up across the street and watch as the big guy from Mel's gets out of the driver's side. He walks around the back of the sedan, tossing the keys in his hand and then stopping in front of the trunk. My stomach drops.

The passenger door opens and another guy gets out. I didn't notice him before, but he's tall, wiry, and impeccably dressed. They pop the trunk and bend over it, struggling with something inside and my hand tightens around the tire iron. The big guy straightens up and a stream of chocolate brown hair cascades over his arm.

I'm already opening the door, focusing on nothing but her.

The wiry guy holds the warehouse door open while the big guy carries Maisy in his arms. I'm just crossing the street as the door closes. I have no idea what Maisy's gotten herself into, but it's bad. I search around the side of the building until I find another door. I know the police are on their way but considering what those guys did to Mel, I don't have time to waste waiting. The slashed tires, Maisy's behavior, the kidnapping, they've been after Maisy for a while, and now they finally have her and I have no idea what that means.

I let out a quick sigh of relief when I find the other door unlocked and slowly pull it back, having no idea what I'm about to walk into. My hand flexes around the tire iron and I adjust my grip, on alert. Edging my way into a dark hallway, I try not to breath in the fishy aroma that permeates the air. The walls are concrete and I don't hear a sound, but I keep walking forward. Maisy is in here somewhere and despite what she seems to think, she needs me.

A movement up ahead catches my attention, and in the darkness I can barely make out an opening in front of me. I slide my back up against one of the walls and step quietly, straining my ears as murmured voices echo off the concrete and grow clearer as I get closer.

"Don't touch her you fucking pervert," someone says in a thick accent. "You heard what he said."

"Pero has visto las tetas?"

My body tenses and I suck in my breath. I try to talk myself out of doing something irrational, but if he mentions Maisy's tits one more time, I'm not sure if I'll be able to control myself. I feel the weight of the tire iron in my hand and lift it to my chest. My heart is pumping as a million different scenarios run through my mind. I need a plan.

"Go out to the car and get the rope." The other man says something in response but I can't make it out. "Because you were the one who left it pendejo!" the first man drawls, making it obvious who's calling the shots.

This is it. I hear the squeak of the metal door being forced open and the vibrating bang of it slamming shut. This is my chance. Without taking too much time to overthink it, I slip out of the shadows and around the corner. I step into a large open room with metal machinery and quickly duck behind it.

The tall, skinny guy is just a few feet away with his back turned to me, and Maisy is sprawled out on top of a metal table in front of him. She's unconscious and covered in blood. Panic sets in. I know I need to act fast, use the element of surprise and attack while his back is turned to me, so I take in a deep breath and say a quick prayer before slowly easing myself out of my hiding space and stealthily darting across the room.

I don't make a sound and he never sees me coming. I raise the tire iron and bring it down on the back of his head with a sickening thud and his body goes limp. He collapses into a heap in front of me and I drop the tire iron on top of his body and step over him to get to Maisy.

She unconscious but her chest is moving. Relieved doesn't even come close to describing how I feel as I check her, lifting her shirt and running my hands over her body, searching for any signs of damage, but despite the blood on her, she seems to be fine. I release some of the fear that I was holding onto and bend over and scoop her up into my arms. I wasn't sure what got Maisy into this mess, but I sure as hell was going to get her out of it.

I hold her lifeless body against me and head back towards the door I came through, knowing I don't have much time. I glance down at Maisy. Her eyes are closed and her head bobs against my chest as I carry her across the room. They must've drugged her or something. We're just about at the opening I came through when the metal door behind me groans open. I don't stop. I can't now.

"Sonnabitch!"

The word pierces me just seconds before a loud crack tears through the room and a flaming, white heat spreads down my right side. Every muscle in me goes dead and I almost drop Maisy but I somehow manage to keep going, holding her to me with my one good arm as another shot rings out. The skin on my arm tears open as the bullet grazes me and I lose control. My legs give out and I fall to my knees, carefully cradling Maisy with the arm that's still working. I hear sirens out in the distance but worry it's too late. All I can do now is protect Maisy, buy her some time. I just wish it was more. Everything around me blurs and another gunshot is fired just as I collapse on top of her.

All I think of as I lose conscious is just one thing.

I lost her again.