Roxanne Fosch Files Collection

Chapter 14

I wasn"t surprised to discover Logan had found his car. In a way, I knew he would. And although I was glad he"d found me too, I was curious.

“How did you know where to find me?”

“The internet.”

I stared at him for a moment, then comprehension dawned. “What, I"m on f*******:?”

“That"s not where I saw you, but I bet you"re there too,” he said, a mischievous half smile playing on his lips.

“Well?” I prompted when he didn"t elaborate.

“You"re all over YouTube.” He gave me a sideways glance, then focused back on the road. “Considering who you punched, you"re probably breaking news,” he chuckled. “Entertainment Tonight, too.”

Entertainment TonightI just watched him blankly. He went on, “You know, you practically pulverized the bones and cartilage of his nose? Last I checked, he was still in surgery. I say he got lucky. Did you know you can kill someone with only a nose punch? You gotta angle the hook,” He gestured in an upward motion with his right hand, the heel of his palm angling forward. “So when you punch, you send broken bones to the brain…” He gave me a brief glance, caught my blank stare.

“And you have no idea who you punched, do you?”

I shook my head.

“His name is P.J. Tyler. He"s Hollywood"s new hotshot. Women, media, agents, fans,” he waved a few fingers over the steering to include them all, “they all flock to him wherever he goes. That"s probably how they caught the whole thing on video. Someone was already recording when he approached you.”

He chuckled again, no doubt remembering the scene. “Don"t worry about it. He"ll live, and I"m sure he deserved it. Besides, some representative of MGM"s PR department already gave a speech about your apprehension. And the fact Mr. Drammen"s honchos surrounded and escorted you out of there in handcuffs gave the speech some credibility.” He waved his arm in dismissal and fell silent.

God, I hadn"t even considered charges being pressed. Or even that the punch caused so much damage. But again, I thought it was one of the security dudes who caught me and not a normal guest of the casino. At the time, I didn"t consider how much damage a punch from me could cause, just that I got caught and had to get free.

Of all the guests at the casino, I had to punch the most illustrious, the most prominent, the one most watched.

And now what? Was I, on top of everything else, a fugitive of the law?

A Hollywood hotshot. I swallowed hard, closed my eyes and leaned my head back.

Logan"s hand fell over my knee and squeezed. “Hey, don"t worry about it.”

I nodded, not bothering to open my eyes. I couldn"t shake the feeling that my life was going to Hell in a hand basket.

We left Las Vegas without another word. Logan kept a close watch on the rearview mirror. He was expecting trouble. He didn"t say anything about me leaving him back in the hotel and I didn"t apologize. Like I said, he had an agenda, and I wanted no part in it. Sure, he helped me a few times and maybe I wished him no harm, but I was not going to be his next paycheck, no matter what—or who—he crossed for me.

“Where do you want to go?” he asked, breaking the quiet.

“Excuse me?”

He looked at me, his face grim. “I imagine if I take you to whatever designation you have in mind, you won"t be so hell-bent in ditching me whenever. Plus, there"s a chance once you scratch out whatever chore you have on your list, I"ll have a better chance keeping you around.”

“Whatever gave you that idea?”

He shrugged, just a lift of his right shoulder, “I want something from you. In return, I"ll reward you handsomely for your troubles. And, I"ll personally deliver you safely to whatever place you want to go.”

I was silent for a moment, wondering what he could possibly want from someone like me. What was with these people? First Remo Drammen, now him?

When my silence stretched too long, he gave me a cursory look. “You know, I thought after all these… incidents,” he said, wry amusement on his lips, “you shoulda figured I don"t work for the Society.”

Yeah, I figured as much. I played along. “You don"t?”

“No.”

“Then who do you work for?”

“No one.”

“Then why…” I gestured with my hand, making a wide motion to encompass everything that happened.

“I want something from you.”

I waited for him to go on.

“And that is?”

He stared straight ahead at the road, clearly choosing his words.

“The Society kidn*pped a friend of mine a couple of weeks ago. It is my understanding that you escaped the place and are familiar with the grounds and security system. I will deliver you safely to wherever you want to go in exchange for your help getting my friend back—”

“No.” No way was I having anything to do with that place again. Not voluntarily. I shuddered at the idea.

He slowed down and parked the car at the shoulder and turned to give me his full attention. I wondered if it also served to emphasize that if I wasn"t helping, then there was no need for me to go on with him. I looked around at the endless road and desert ahead. Even if he left me stranded in the middle of nowhere, he"d never be able to dissuade me.

I set my chin and stared back at him.

“No?”

“No.”

“You don"t even know what I want you to do or how much I"m willing to pay you for your assistance…” At the shake of my head, he trailed off, narrowing his eyes at me. “I don"t think you understand the full extent of your situation. I"ve heard the Society is so afraid of you they have been dispatching mercenaries left and right after you. They say you have stolen some dangerous information from their archives, and that you could use this knowledge to unbalance the power seat of the preternatural hierarchy.” He paused a second for effect. “If that rumor spreads further on to higher ears, the Society will be the least of your troubles.”

Well, I"ll be damned. I hadn"t seen that coming. But thief status aside, no way in hell was I going back to the PSS to help someone"s friend, not even for the balance of the entire world.

“If you help me, I can get you off every one"s radar. Plus, I guarantee to get you out of there safely.”

I shook my head again. “It doesn"t matter. My answer is no.” After a second I added, “If it were something else, perhaps I could help you. But this… going back there… I can"t.”

He stared at me for a long time, his grey eyes flat, almost cold. I stared back, not letting him intimidate me an inch. Was he going to tell me to get out now and finish my journey on my own? If he thought that making me walk the rest of the way to civilization was going to bend me, he was sorely wrong.

“Look, I"m sorry about your friend, but there"s nothing in this world you could offer me that would convince me to go back there.”

“You do realize,” he began slowly, “that I"m not the only one besides the Society capable to track you down? I can keep those people away, help you disappear after we"re done rescuing my friend.”

It would be wonderful to have someone protecting me, sharing my burden for once. Helping me to disappear, to find a place where I could pursue my life, not afraid every time I have to turn a corner. If it had been anything else he was asking, I"d have jumped at the offer.

“Yeah, I figured it out,”

“You know they won"t stop coming after you? I can help you disappear, provide you with a different ID, a job, a home somewhere no one would be able to find you.”

My anger bubbled at his careless words. “Look, I"m not going back to the PSS even if they hire every single assassin in the United States to come after me. I"d rather be free and fighting for my life than be stuck in a cage and helpless.”

He stared at me for a long time, then pursed his lips and looked away. I could tell he hadn"t expected me to resist his offer. Well, he was in for a shock, because there was nothing he could offer me, nothing in the whole world that would entice me enough to make me go back of my own free will to the PSS.

I turned my head and watched the desert, waiting for Logan to either tell me to get out or start the car.

When he spoke again, his grey eyes had darkened with determination. “Very well, don"t come with me. How well can you describe the Society"s grounds? Can you draw a map of the place?”

“I know as much as a prisoner was allowed to see. I was there for a while.” I rubbed the palms of my hand on my pants. “If it"s a place I"ve been taken before, I can give you the smallest detail—down to a c***k on the tile. A chipped corner"s edge. I can even tell you locations of restricted areas, some of which I know what are used for.”

He inclined his head in agreement, but I could tell he was far from satisfied by settling for less. “Then draw me a map. What about surveillance?”

“There are cameras and sensors everywhere, along with guards, like the ones from the motel.” I forced my fidgety hand still. I knew with certainty if Logan tried to rescue his friend, he"d never be able to leave. Provided he wasn"t killed during the attempt.

“Draw me the map, include as many details as you can remember. Can you do that?” At my nod of agreement he started the car and began driving again. “How did you escape?” he asked a long time later.

I turned from the endless desert outside to look at him.

“I behaved.”

If I hadn"t, they would never have agreed to the session. In exchange for driving lessons, I had to consent and cooperate with Dr. Maxwell and any new horrible experimentation, give away a piece of myself, my ability. If it was something they deemed worthy, I got a session. If not, just an afternoon outside—chaperoned by a few Elite guards.

I didn"t tell Logan that, or that I had been taking lessons for a long time before the opportunity to escape presented itself. Or how a whole contingency of the PSS"s Elite Team followed me around. In the end, I had killed two guards. I"d also left two other guards, along with Dr. Maxwell, unconscious in the woods, hit with their own brand of tranquilizers. I"d dumped both escort vehicles into the Sound, as well as all their communication devices to give myself a head start.

Logan gave me a quizzical look. “You behaved, that"s it?”

“Yeah,” I said with a shrug.

Sometimes, I"d lay awake at night and think back on that day, wondering if someone had helped me go. Not that it had been easy, mind you; just that some of the most important elements of that day should never have happened.

Throughout my captivity, there"d been a sympathetic guard or two who helped me once or twice, although any interference on their part came indirectly, so if anything went wrong the blame would fall on me.

“So where do you want to go?”

“Sacramento.”

While I had been pacing in Remo Drammen"s penthouse, I reached the conclusion that if I wanted answers to my questions, I had to stop meandering in an aimless hoop and find out who, or what, I really was. Once I got that puzzle piece fitted, I"d have a clearer view of what awaited me ahead.

To do that, I needed to find the only person who could provide me with the answers.

“What"s in Sacramento?” Logan asked with a curious look.

“My mother.”