Chapter 13
891 Words
After I exerted enough of the restless energy coursing through me by pacing, I sat to rest and think. I scoped the entire penthouse—a state of art and luxury—and, aside from cutting a pillow case to ribbons and bandaging my hand, found nothing to be used to my advantage. Shifting my hand to talons only caused excruciating pain. The blisters didn"t heal like the gash on the palm of my left hand did.
There wasn"t even a basic first-aid kit in the entire place. In fact, the entire place felt unoccupied. There was one lonely suit—white—hanging in the closet, still carrying the designer tag.
Nothing else. Nothing in the bathroom but complimentary accessories. Nothing personal.
* * *
I jolted, fully awake and alert at the sound of soft tapping on glass.
Shit, how could I fall asleep?
Stupid.
I searched for the source, but there was nothing. Outside, morning was in full swing.
All three doors were open, and when the tapping came again, I followed the sound to the master bedroom, where the tapping came from behind the drapes.
Tap tap tap.
I hesitated. Was Remo Drammen behind the curtain? Or maybe a hellhound? Or a daemon, or something just as nasty?
Tap tap tap.
Ah, but wasn"t I that curious cat?
I approached the window cautiously, grabbed the curtain and yanked, belatedly realizing I should have grabbed something for a weapon.
A gasp escaped my lips when I saw the figure plastered to the glass.
“My God,” I hurried forward and fumbled with the latches on the window. How?
His lips were moving, but I couldn"t hear him.
He tapped again to get my attention, and mouthed for me to move back.
When I did, I saw the rope he was dangling from. I backed up until the back of my knees hit the edge of the bed.
Logan kicked the window with one sturdy boot, breaking the glass. Warm air rushed inside, along with the sound of distant traffic. Then he kicked it again and again, widening the gap until it was wide enough for him to get in, and no jagged edges remained.
He dropped lightly to the floor, smashing glass under his boots, giving a cursory look around, sniffing and listening. Once he deemed the room safe enough, he focused his grey eyes on me.
He took in my blood stained, rumpled clothes before fixing his intense gaze on my bandaged hand.
“You alright?”
I nodded, and after one more look around, he beckoned me forward. “We have to go now. Before someone comes to check on you.”
“Why? Why are you helping me?”
There was a small hesitation before he said, “Let"s get out of here first. We"ll talk once we get somewhere safer.”
To my horror, I discovered there was no rope for me, not that I knew how to climb, just a belt-like contraption hooked to a similar one around his waist.
He hooked me to him, instructed me to hold on tight, and gave me a devilish smile.
“Whatever happens, don"t look down,” he said and pushed us off the window.
I admit, a tiny squeal escaped my lips at the first instance of airborne sensation. And, of course, when I looked down at the miniature life below … let"s just say it wasn"t one of the brightest moments of my life.
Logan began pulling us upward, and, unable to help myself, I closed my arms around his neck in a death-like grip and shut my eyes tight.
For the first time in a long time, I prayed. I prayed that the rope was strong enough for both our weights. I prayed that Remo didn"t choose that instance to come back. I prayed that no one down on the street spotted us and reported it to the security team inside.
By the time Logan tumbled us onto the roof, he was breathing hard, his exhales harsh and labored. “I guess I need more exercise,” he panted.
No longer in immediate danger of falling to my death, I became self-consciously aware of how close we were, and was glad he couldn"t see me blushing.
“You can let go now,” he choked out, and my eyes flew open.
I released the grip around his neck and backed away. Or tried to. We were still hooked together.
He chuckled at the mortification that crossed my face and, just as efficiently as before, unhooked us from each other and then himself from all the hoops and the rope.
It was windy up here, the gusts tossing his dark brown hair all around, revealing reddish streaks in between.
I was glad he had found me again. No matter his motive, between him and Remo, I"d choose him. A million times over.
He looked at me sideways, no doubt sensing my gaze on him.
“We should go. If someone realizes you"re gone before we clear the building, we"ll never get out of here.” he undid the last loop and threw the rope aside.
I didn"t argue. I wanted to get away from there and put a lot of distance between me and Remo Drammen, and whatever business he wanted me for.
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