Landlocked, page 12
Logan held up his hands. “I had nothing to do with the explosion.”
“Whatever. Don’t matter now, do it?”
Logan turned around slowly to talk to the man. Convincing Roy he didn’t want to be a killer was Logan’s only hope. “Listen, whatever you feel about me—and I get that you hate me, a lot of people do—but there’s a big difference between wanting a man dead and doing the deed. Right now you haven’t spilled any blood. But let me tell you, son, no matter how justified you are in taking a life, it will haunt you for the rest of yours.”
“Aw, Captain Loco Logan’s concerned about how well I’ll sleep at night.”
“Go ahead and laugh at me, but killing someone ain’t a joke.”
Roy grabbed him by the collar, hissing in Logan’s ear. “I’ll tell you a little secret. The day Jonas left, I followed him and cut his throat about a mile out of town. And he weren’t my first neither so you don’t worry none about me pulling the trigger.”
Well, there went that strategy, but Logan knew he had to keep Roy talking. “What kept you from sealing the deal with Kathryn then? You knew Jonas was out of the way.”
“Who says I ain’t had her?” the other man asked with a sneer.
Leveling his gaze at Roy, Logan replied, “How you gonna bullshit a bullshitter? I know you were never with her.”
With a shove, Roy released Logan. “Who knew she’d hold out hope for five fucking years? But she’s loyal like that. And I could wait. Had her all to myself, didn’t I? Little by little I got her to let me in, made her see everything I could offer her.”
“But she wasn’t loyal to you like that, was she? She took up with me right quick.”
Agony shot through Logan’s temple. Roy had him by the hair, the gun in Logan’s face. “I blame you for that. But that’s easy enough to fix.”
Wrangling out of Roy’s grip, Logan pushed the man away. “And you think she’s just gonna run back into your arms? She’s not stupid. She knows you turned me in.”
“Now you listen here.” Roy tightened his grip on the gun. “She’s my woman. Mine. She’ll forget about you once I get your stink off her.”
“When? Five more years from now?”
“Shut up and walk!” Roy snarled.
“Why? Just kill me here.”
“I don’t need no trouble with your friends. Let’s go.”
“No, if you’re going to kill me, do it now. You said it yourself—you done it before so shut up and do it.”
Sheer hate twisting his features, Roy took aim. Instead of giving in to the panic inherent in being in the sights of a gun, Logan took a calming breath, assessing the situation in a split second. He knocked the gun back, smashed the smaller man in the face with it, then kicked Roy in the knee. A few shots rang out, bullets whizzing through the night air as Roy crumpled to the ground. Logan stepped on the Tec-9, booting it out of reach—his larger size an advantage just as it had been the last time he’d fought Roy. And this time, Kate wasn’t here to plead for the scumbag’s life.
Ignoring the pain in his head, Logan fell on Roy, embracing the murderous rage. Punches thrown wild, he pummeled the smaller man—bone crunching against bone, blood spatter flying wild—until Roy ceased to struggle. Or move at all.
Chapter Thirteen
The scene warmed Logan’s heart. Sampson’s huge family gathered together for supper, children and grandchildren filling every open lap. Marcus and Kathryn smiled at him from an oversized chair in the living room. It was the happiest he’d felt in a long time…maybe ever. Logan fetched their plates and settled onto the floor next to them.
They ate and laughed, Kathryn’s face relaxed as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Logan had never seen her like this—all aglow and giddy, but if he had anything to say about it, she would stay this happy for the rest of her life.
As she settled Marcus in for the night, Logan thought about the conversation they’d had when he’d first returned from the Resistance base camp. She’d wept when she found out Jonas was indeed dead, angry with herself that she’d almost taken up with the man who’d murdered him.
“You couldn’t have known.” Logan smoothed her hair, cupping one hand under her jaw. “Roy won’t be harming anyone ever again.”
Somehow Logan had found the strength to rein in his temper. He’d beaten Roy unconscious but then handed him over to the Resistance troops. Not an act of kindness by a long shot—the soldiers would bleed Roy for information and then he’d mysteriously come up missing. At least the blood wasn’t on Logan’s hands. That son of a bitch Roy had made his bed, now he could lie in it.
Hands clean and mind at ease, Logan could feel the ghosts of the past losing their grip on him. He was free to set a course for the future. A future he’d once thought he didn’t deserve. A future with Kate and Marcus.
Kathryn slipped into the guest bedroom to find Logan half undressed, lying on top of the sheets, leafing through the book she’d brought with her. He still had a bandage around his ribs, some bruising from the most recent bombing, but to her, he couldn’t have looked better.
Ruffling his hair, she sat next to him. “You have to stop getting yourself concussed. It can’t be good for your brain.”
He smiled up at her, putting the book aside. “At least I don’t keep injuring something I use.”
“Ain’t that the truth?” She ran a hand over his already stiffening cock.
“C’mere, you.” Pulling her to him, he gave her a soft kiss.
“Are you in shape for this?”
Wrapping his arms around her, he replied, “I don’t care if I am or not.”
“I’ll take it easy with you then.” She pushed him back onto the bed.
“Usually I’d object, but tonight, I think that’s wise.”
She kissed his new bruise gently and worked her way down to the waistband of his underwear. Peeling the garment off one leg at a time, she exposed his rigid cock.
“Mmm, I think someone’s happy to see me.” She ran her tongue over the head.
Logan sucked in a sharp breath. Spreading her legs, she hiked up her skirt and climbed onto his lap all in one fluid motion. Handfuls of her blouse clenched in his fists, he pulled her into a fiery kiss. His tongue moved over hers, exploring her mouth. Adrenaline coursed through her the way it always did when he touched her, setting her whole body on fire. She moved to slip him inside her, but he wrapped his arms around her, rolling her beneath him.
“I thought you needed to take it easy.” She chuckled, laughter fading on her lips when she saw the look in his eyes. “Brett, what is it?”
He captured her gaze, his eyes glittering as if he might break down and cry. But he didn’t. Instead, he said, “I’m not a monster and I’m sorry I scared you that night…”
“You didn’t scare me—”
“I did, but I can control my temper. I can, and I’d never turn it on you or Marcus.”
“I know that.” She touched his face with the back of her hand.
“Well, I didn’t, not until the last time I fought Roy. I’m not a monster—I’m not my dad.”
Kissing his brow, she gave him a gentle smile, but Logan’s expression didn’t lighten.
Shaking his head, he went on, “At one point, when the bombs went off, I thought I was going to die. And I was okay with that except I-I realized I’ve never told you how I feel about you.”
Her fingers threaded in his hair, she replied, “I know how you feel about me. You were going to turn yourself in to keep me safe. I get that.”
“It’s not enough that you ‘get’ it. I couldn’t deal with the thought of dying without saying…I love you, Kate.”
Her throat tight, tears stinging her eyes, she murmured, “I love you too, Brett.”
Lips to hers, clearly he’d decided enough said. He slid a hand between her thighs, teasing her open with gentle pressure. As he slipped his cock inside her, she threw her arms around his neck, bridging the distance between their mouths. Waves of pleasure rippled through her.
Holding her knees apart, he slid himself into her up to the base of his shaft, then out to the very tip. Logan continued to rise and fall, thrusting in time with some unheard beat. Capturing a nipple in his mouth, he rolled it between his teeth, dialing up the heat and tension between her legs.
Kathryn gasped, hooking a leg over his arm to open herself wider. Juices wet her thighs the deeper Logan plunged. With each forward stroke, he rubbed his pelvis to her clit. Her body shook, but she wasn’t ready to climax yet. She craved more of him, to be joined with him like this as long as they could hold out.
“Roll over, I want to be on top,” she told him. With a grin on his face, Logan acquiesced.
Lowering herself onto his cock, she took his full length inside. For a few moments, she sat still, enjoying the heat and the feeling of being filled. He groaned, squirming beneath her.
“I can’t take it, Kate,” he panted.
A wicked smile on her lips, she started to ride him—very small movements at first, just rocking him against her inner walls, her clit pressed to the base of his shaft. As her sheath grew tighter, muscles contracting on their own, she picked up the pace. Her ass grinding against his hips, she kept most of him inside her. Pushing forward, she rode him harder, the bite of pain adding to her excitement.
Logan bucked beneath her, hands on her hips, watching her every move. Her fingers on her nipples, she toyed with them, pinching and tugging until finally she crested the peak of sensation. Wild spasms tore through her. She braced herself, one hand pushing at his chest, and bit her lip to keep from calling out. Only a few seconds behind her, he arched his back, burying himself in her. Hot cum spilled from her slit, leaking down her thighs.
She collapsed forward, her torso flat against his, her cheek against the soft patch of hair on his chest. For what seemed like ages, they breathed together—Logan still inside her, one hand stroking her unruly locks. Only once a cool draft passed over her, giving her goose bumps, did she dismount, snuggling up beside him.
“Say it again,” she whispered. “I like hearing you say it.”
“I love you, Kate.”
A shiver passed through her at the sound of the words in his baritone voice. With a kiss, she replied, “I love you too.”
Tracing his tattoos with one finger, she giggled. “You’re getting Blanca’s name removed when we get back to civilization.”
“I promise. I’m sure she’ll be glad to be rid of me.
“Now for the really important question—” He pulled her closer to him, nuzzling her mouth and jawline. In a dusky tone, he asked, “Where’s my hat?”
Kathryn shook with laughter and pointed to the dresser.
* * * * *
Sampson woke them before dawn. With the few things they’d decided to take with them in a duffel bag, Kate and Marcus followed Logan. The trip down to the shore proved uneventful as planned.
Jacques met them in a small motorized boat and ferried them to the ship. As soon as Logan boarded his ship a sense of peace settled over him. His boots struck the teak of the deck on The Yellow Rose with a comfortable cadence. It was time for Logan to introduce his old baby to his new one. “Kate—The Yellow Rose. Rose, this is Kate.”
“She’s beautiful.” Kathryn ran a hand over the polished railings and gleaming brass fixtures.
“First Mate DuBois, get Kate and Marcus settled below deck.” Logan kissed Kate’s cheek. “I’ll be down in a few minutes. Gotta do my rounds first.”
“They don’t respect what you don’t inspect,” said Marcus.
“Exactly.” Logan nodded, patting the boy on the shoulder. He watched them disappear into the belly of the ship. “Now let’s see what you dogs been doing to my boat.”
Hands on his hips, gun belt slung low, the smell of gasoline and salt water in his nostrils, Captain Brett Logan, Jr. broke out in a grin from ear to ear.
* * * * *
On the fifth day of their journey, Logan pulled the night shift. He’d had a bad feeling since shoving off, the same unease echoed in the expression of his first mate. Reports had come in from various sources around the Gulf that Reformer boats were stopping random vessels, including fishing and commercial ships.
Before he went abovedeck, Logan had kissed Kate good night and shown her the secret panel along one side of his cabin.
“If the alarm sounds, you hide in here with Marcus.”
“Is everything okay?” she’d asked, her brow furrowed.
“Of course. But just in case.”
When the searchlight blazed into the pilothouse, Logan steeled himself for the confrontation. Checking the magazine on his .45 and sliding one bullet into the chamber, he readied himself to tell the same tale he always offered patrols—he and his crew ran a simple fishing vessel in the Gulf and they were returning to Port Galveston. Logan flipped the switches, alerting the crew that they would soon be boarded.
Please remember what to do, Kate, he prayed as if he could will her into the hiding place with his thoughts.
“Heave to and prepare to be boarded,” a heavily accented voice ordered Logan to cut the engine and drop anchor.
His crew had already begun to gather on deck. Logan settled his hat on his head and slipped on a wool coat, taking his time to join them. Best to appear relaxed and maybe a little befuddled by the intrusion.
A swarthy young man with curly black hair led the group of three sailors who climbed onto Logan’s ship.
“Good evening, Ensign,” Logan addressed the young man. “How can my crew and I help you?”
“Is this everyone on the ship?” asked the ensign.
Making a quick visual inspection, Logan indicated that it was.
“Permits and papers, please.” The ensign held out a hand as his men patted down Logan’s crew.
Logan handed over his fishing permit, travel documents and various other licenses.
The ensign leafed through the papers. “Do you have a weapon, Captain?”
Drawing back his peacoat, Logan exposed his sidearm. “I do.”
“Please surrender your pistol.”
Easing the gun from its holster, Logan placed it on the deck.
In a guttural language, the ensign read from Logan’s documents into a walkie talkie. When a reply came over the radio, the young man’s expression hardened. He barked at his men, who promptly surrounded Logan, their automatic weapons pointed at him.
“Something wrong?” Logan asked, hands held up in surrender.
“On the ground, hands behind your head,” said the ensign.
“What am I being arrested for?”
“On the ground, hands behind your head.” The young man’s face reddened.
Logan’s mind ran at a mile a minute, but he struggled to remain calm. The Reformers must’ve sworn out a warrant on him. He was pretty sure he could grab his pistol and drop the ensign before the kid knew what had happened, but that would give the other sailors the perfect excuse to riddle Logan with bullets. Not that they needed one.
If he had to, he’d go peacefully with the ensign…but only if he had to. Studying the hint of fear in the young man’s expression, Logan asked, “You in charge of that vessel, Ensign?”
“I don’t see how that’s relevant. On the ground, hands behind your head. I’m not going to ask you to comply again.”
“I fully intend to surrender, but only to another commanding officer.” Logan cast a glance at his crew. “Allow me that much dignity. One sailor to another?”
Holding his breath, Logan watched the ensign chew over the decision. Finally the young man spoke into his radio again. Logan exhaled, thankful his stall tactic had worked, but now what? He surveyed his crew, looking for options, but came up with none. Unless a small miracle occurred, Logan would have to turn himself over to the ensign’s commanding officer.
From the Reformer ship, a small Zodiac carried a large older man, one with a thick mustache and an unmistakable scar over his left eye. Relief washed over Logan. His minor miracle came in the form of Captain Drago, a man with morals as flexible as Logan’s. Drago could be bought off, Logan had done it before.
Boarding The Rose, Drago shook his head, his lips pursed in annoyance. “Captain Logan. You are a pain in my ass.”
“My apologies, Captain, but as you see, I’m in a bit of a bind.”
Drago motioned for his men to lower their weapons. “Yes, it seems you are. We’re supposed to detain you and hand you over to our army.”
“I hear ya. You’ve got your orders.” Logan nodded. “But what good would that do either of us?”
Arching an eyebrow, Drago drew closer to Logan. “What good would it do me to let you go?”
With a smile, Logan motioned to the stern. “Why don’t we adjourn to the pilothouse and discuss this over a drink like civilized men?”
Drago muttered something to his men and then followed Logan to the back of the ship.
Over some of Logan’s finest tequila reposado, the two men negotiated a deal they could both live with—ten thousand in Reformer coin to log this stop as that of a routine fishing vessel.
“How much more to make that warrant disappear?” asked Logan.
The man gave a tobacco-stained grin and held up nine fingers. “Republic credits. They spend better in Mexico.”
Logan laughed and peeled off several more bills from his stash. Nearly twenty grand all said and done. A small price to pay for freedom and peace of mind. Drago punched a few buttons on his satellite comm-link and held the screen up for Logan’s inspection. Search results for Logan, Brett, Jr.—null.
“I’m in your debt, I won’t forget that.” Logan clapped the man on his shoulder.
“Neither will I.” Drago downed his drink.
Logan escorted him to the deck where Drago gave the order for his men to return to their ship.
When the Reformer sailors and their captain had left, Logan returned his .45 to its proper place—his right hip. Tipping his hat to Jacques, he relinquished control of his ship to his first mate.
