Page 8 of The Boys Club


  He moved back toward the door to leave, but paused next to Lester. If they had a potential leak, Logan couldn’t leave Sara alone with anyone for long. He needed to limit access to her, just as he told Schaffer he would. There had been something on Langston’s face during the press conference, something in his eyes. A nonchalance that almost translated into disconnecting himself from the situation. He didn’t care that Sara was missing or if she ever returned. Why would he? He had already planned on having her killed. He was probably hoping some kidnappers had saved him the trouble and wouldn’t demand a hefty ransom that he’d have to pay for show.

  Logan’s other thought troubled him much more. Langston might have been disinterested because he already knew Sara’s location. He had a mole inside The Boys Club, someone who would reveal her location once they had a chance, giving him access to both Sara and Logan.

  No matter what the case, Logan had to be the primary face Sara saw. The one she spoke with and confided in, once she believed them about the hit.

  “Les,” Logan said, “do me a favor. When Charlie relieves you for your sleep shift, bring a mattress from one of the other rooms and put it on the floor right here, next to the door.”

  “You sleeping in here?”

  Logan twisted his head and glanced at the sleeping girl he had sworn to protect. “Yes, I am.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Logan tucked his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling through the dark. He’d been awake most of the night, which allowed him to react when Sara stirred in the early hours. Before she regained consciousness, he administered the sedative in her arm, putting her right back into a deep sleep.

  Despite staying the night in Sara’s room and keeping the others away, Sara’s safety still concerned him. Not knowing the identity of the mole rendered him incompetent to protect her. Once she woke, he might be able to learn more about the leak and find out if she was setting him up. Watching her throughout the night, he grew more convinced she knew nothing about her father’s activities, but he wouldn’t know for sure until they swept her for bugs.

  The door opened and Logan sat up. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but he recognized Charlie’s hushed voice. “You hungry?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” Logan said. “What time is it?”

  “Just after five.”

  “Where are Jack and Les?”

  “They went out for a morning run.”

  Logan rolled off the mattress and followed Charlie out of the room.

  “Sara’s going to be starving when she wakes up this afternoon,” Charlie said, as they walked to the kitchen. “I’ll make sure to have some food ready for her.”

  “Good idea.” Logan looked at the spread of food Charlie prepared for breakfast. Scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, and pancakes were laid out across the breakfast bar like a buffet. He loaded up a plate, filled a mug with coffee, and went to the kitchen table.

  Charlie sat in a chair across from him with his own plate of food. “You look exhausted. Did you sleep at all?”

  “Not much.”

  “I’m not trying to question your judgment, but why are you staying in her room? I thought we were taking shifts watching her?”

  Had the question come from anyone else, Logan would have thought it was a clue that the person was the leak. Charlie’s soft demeanor, however, told Logan that his question was more curiosity than anything. He’d been up half the night bouncing around the idea of getting Charlie’s help with the leak. Normally he would have gone with Jack, but his gut said that Charlie was the man for the job.

  Instead of answering Charlie’s question, he said, “I need your help later with Sara.”

  “I’m already talking to her about her father and the hit.”

  “No, not that.” Logan took a small sip of coffee. “We need to check her for bugs or wires.”

  “Why do we have to do that?”

  “Schaffer and I think there’s a leak.”

  Charlie’s eyes widened. “A leak? How is that possible?”

  “I don’t know, but we received too much intel on this job. My last job didn’t go so well, either. I think that Sara is either here because Langston sent her to infiltrate us or someone wants her out in the open to kill her and get to me at the same time.”

  “I couldn’t imagine anyone helping Langston. There’s not one person working with us that would want to help him get to you. Everyone knows what happened with Karen. Who in the hell could be involved in that?”

  “I don’t want to think about it either, but it’s a strong possibility. Don’t say anything to the others. The only reason I told you is I know you’re not him and you can help me calm Sara down enough to check her.”

  Charlie picked up a slice of toast and tore off the crust. “She’s not going to be very cooperative if you’re manually checking her for bugs.”

  Logan had thought about that most of the night, too. “I know, but we have to do it, as much as I don’t want to. It’s bad enough we kidnapped her.”

  “You’re right, though. We can’t take a chance in case she’s wired. We should have searched her already.”

  “Not while she’s sleeping,” Logan said, “and not against her will, if we can help it. I don’t want to upset her more than we already have.”

  “I am not looking forward to this afternoon,” Charlie said, stuffing half the piece of toast in his mouth.

  “You and me both.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sara groaned as she woke, having been in the middle of a nightmare. She reached out to the other side of the bed, but didn’t find Stephen next to her. Her stomach growled like a fierce lion, and she hoped Stephen had the cook prepare breakfast. She couldn’t remember ever being so hungry. Wondering where Stephen had gone, she tentatively opened her eyes and looked around her bedroom.

  Except it wasn’t her bedroom.

  She shot up in bed and clutched a blanket to her chest. After scanning the unfamiliar room, she lowered the blanket away from her body and saw she still had on the same dress she wore to the wedding planner’s office, minus her high heels. Memories trickled in: being picked up by the attractive driver, joking around with Mary, an accident, a man with a blurry face drugging her while the driver watched.

  “Where the hell am I?” she whispered into the empty room. Her chest heaved with frantic breaths and she coaxed herself to calm down. She had to think clearly if she hoped to get away.

  Climbing out of bed, she first noticed the boarded up window. The only furniture in the room consisted of two mattresses and the box spring under her mattress. There seemed to be nothing she could use in the room as a weapon against whoever took her. She tried the doorknob on the only door in the room, but the lock held it shut.

  In the bathroom, she realized that all potential weapons had been removed as well. She turned her attention to the mirror. She looked like hell, but she didn’t care much about her appearance. On the sink counter, a bath towel and wash cloth called to her. She shut the bathroom door, careful not to make a sound. Picking up the bath towel, she arranged it so the material was doubled in half, and held it over the mirror. She took a deep breath and smashed her fist into the mirror. The sound of a slight crack came from behind the towel. She turned her body and used her elbow to finish the job.

  Once the mirror broke, she brought the towel down perpendicular to the mirror, curving it up to catch the broken glass. She sifted through the shards, careful not to cut herself, and found one that would work. With the washcloth, she lifted the jagged shard and enclosed her hand around it. Opening her hand, she was happy to see that the glass had not cut her through the thick cotton.

  Sara left the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She didn’t want her assailant to see the broken mirror and know she had a weapon before she had a chance to use it. She climbed back into bed and covered herself up with the blanket, concealing the glass.

  Not a minute later, the door to her room creaked open. Sara lay very st
ill in bed, keeping her breathing deep to feign sleep. Footsteps neared her bed and her heart raced out of control. Someone bent over her and she lashed out with the shard of glass. Her arm caught on the corner of the comforter, but she managed to cut into a forearm.

  The man, who she recognized through the shadows as the driver, stepped back and she jumped out of bed, holding the glass with both hands like a sword. “Stay away from me,” she said.

  He held up both hands in a surrender stance, blood dripping down his arm and onto the floor. “Sara, put it down. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  She let out an exasperated laugh. “I am not putting it down. You’re going to show me how to get out of here and let me go.”

  The man watched her for a moment and then turned his head toward the open door. “Charlie! Get in here!” Looking back at Sara, he said, “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you leave. It’s for your own safety that you stay here with us.”

  She flinched. What did that mean? He was the one holding her hostage, him and someone named Charlie. If anything, her safety depended on her escaping.

  “I’m getting out of here right now!” She jabbed the glass toward him as a threat.

  A smaller man, presumably Charlie, walked in and flipped on the overhead light. After assessing the situation, he said, “Oh, Sara, you have to put that down. This won’t help you at all.”

  Her eyes darted back and forth between the two men. “I’m not putting anything down until I get out of here.”

  Charlie took several steps forward and she swung the shard at him. Before she could react, the driver raced to her and scooped her up from behind, lifting her inches off the ground. He applied pressure to her wrist and palm, until it became too much. The piece of glass and washcloth tumbled out of her hand. Not knowing what else to do, she flailed in his arms, kicking her heels at his legs while she screamed for help.

  “Get the syringes.” The driver struggled to get the words out, as she continued fighting as hard as she could. “We have to put her out again.”

  “Not yet,” Charlie said. “Sara, calm down. I don’t want to drug you, but I will have to if you don’t calm down.”

  Sara slowed her pointless resistance. The man that held her was much too large to defeat and fighting only left her exhausted.

  “That’s better,” Charlie said. “Logan’s going to set you down now. I want you to sit still on the bed while I explain some things to you.”

  The driver, Logan, lowered her to the floor, next to the bed. He removed his arms from around her and helped her sit down on the mattress.

  “Thank you, Logan. Can you bring me a chair?”

  Logan left the room and Charlie turned toward her. “Sara, there’s a lot of things we need to talk about and most of it will be very difficult for you to hear. But you have to start out by trusting us.”

  Sara rubbed at her damp eyes, but couldn’t stop the tears from tumbling down her cheeks. “You kidnapped me. Why would I trust you?”

  “Because you don’t want to die. You have a lot of fight in you, which tells me you want to live. We also don’t want you to die, nor do we want to hurt you. We kidnapped you to save your life.”

  Logan came back into the room with a chair and set it down so it faced her. Charlie thanked him again and sat down.

  “Can you tell him to go away?” Sara asked Charlie. Logan’s ability to handle her so easily frightened her. She didn’t want him to do that again if she did or said something wrong

  Charlie shook his head. “Logan is in charge and he’s going to have to stay.”

  Sara glanced at Logan, who leaned against the wall behind Charlie with his arms crossed. The idea that he was in charge surprised her. She had thought of him as the muscle and Charlie the brain.

  “Sara,” Logan said, “no one here is going to hurt you, least of all me. But I need you to listen to what Charlie has to say.”

  She turned her eyes back to Charlie. Though Logan’s calm voice assured her, he had still been the one to kidnap her and Mary. The thought of her friend made Sara worry for her safety. “Where’s Mary?”

  “Mary’s fine,” Charlie said with a warm smile. “She’s with another team and she will be returned to her home in a couple days.”

  “Team? How many others are here besides you two?”

  “There are four of us total and we’re all dedicated to keeping you safe.”

  Sara’s face scrunched up at his words and the tears came again. “I don’t understand what you mean. You kidnapped me. How is that keeping me safe?” Another thought rushed into her head. “What day is it?”

  “It’s Saturday,” Logan said.

  “Saturday?” Sara drew in shallow breaths and her mind raced. “I’m supposed to get married today!”

  “Your wedding was scheduled to start about a half hour ago,” Charlie said. “It was put on hold due to your disappearance.”

  She couldn’t control her rapid breathing, as she thought about the wedding being placed on hold, wondering what Stephen and her father must be going through with her kidnapping. Did they know she had been kidnapped or did they think she had run out on the wedding? She hoped these men had already made a ransom demand and the money would change hands soon. If not, surely Stephen and her father were searching for her and would find her very soon.

  “It’s a good thing that you missed your wedding,” Logan said. “You don’t want to marry Stephen Mathers. Trust me.”

  “What Logan is saying,” Charlie said, “is that marrying Mathers isn’t the right thing for you to do.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said between shallow breaths. “You kidnapped me to stop me from marrying Stephen?”

  “No, Sara.” Charlie placed his hand on her arm. “You need to slow down your breathing, please.”

  Sara’s chest tightened and she tried to take more breaths to get oxygen into her lungs. She lifted her hand to her chest and closed her eyes, but only heard the familiar wheezing that came with an asthma attack.

  “Logan,” Charlie said.

  Sara looked at Logan, who left the room without a word.

  Charlie brought his chair closer to the bed and took her arms. “Slow your breathing, Sara. Try to calm down.”

  Sara watched his dark eyes and listened to his words, but couldn’t stop gasping for air. She felt as if she were drowning as her airways constricted. “I need… I need…”

  “I know,” Charlie said. “Logan’s getting it.”

  A moment later, Logan came back into the room with a nebulizer and a small bag. He handed the nebulizer to Charlie, who prepared a treatment. Logan dumped out the bag next to her on the bed. Several inhalers fell onto the blanket and Sara quickly sorted through them until she found a rescue inhaler. She struggled with getting the cap off, and Logan took it from her hands to help. He handed it back to her and she took two puffs.

  Her breathing calmed down just enough for a bit of air to flow through her lungs. Charlie turned on the nebulizer and handed her the mouthpiece. She wrapped her lips around it and breathed in as much of the medication as she could. She coughed several times with the first few inhales, but her breathing improved. After a minute, she was able to take deeper breaths, allowing the medication to open her airways.

  Logan, whose eyes had never left her, turned to Charlie and lifted his arm. Blood had dried on his arm, dripping down from where she cut him. “I’m going to clean this up. I’ll be right back.”

  Sara turned her head and watched him walk into her bathroom. He stood in front of the sink, and his blue eyes caught hers in the broken mirror. She spun back around to face Charlie, almost embarrassed that Logan caught her watching him, the same way she had in the car yesterday. As she stared into Charlie’s caring eyes, considering their words that they were saving her life by taking her, she realized these were no ordinary kidnappers.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Logan stood over the sink, washing the dried blood from the still stinging wound. Sara was barely 5’2, bu
t she had a hell of a swing and had cut him almost to the point that he needed stitches again. He hadn’t prepared for her tenacity and needed exercise more caution with her until she accepted the situation. She seemed to be coming to terms, he thought when he caught her watching him. Maybe she understood that they would not hurt her.

  Her asthma attack had terrified him. Though Allie explained Sara’s asthma to them, when the attack happened Logan had sudden flashes of her not being able to breathe and passing out, possibly dying. As she got her breathing under control, Logan realized he had been holding his own breath. She was the key to bringing Hugh Langston to his knees. Logan couldn’t let anything happen to her.

  Logan surveyed the damage to the mirror. He’d have to get it cleaned up before they left her alone again. With the nebulizer still running, he left the room and went into the bathroom next to the guest room. He took a first aid kit out from under the sink, applied an ointment to the wound, and wrapped his arm in gauze. He then headed into the kitchen for a broom and trash bag.

  After he cleaned up the broken glass and removed the rest of the glass from the mirror, he threw away the bag and retrieved a cold bottled water from the refrigerator. When he returned to the room, Sara handed Charlie the mouthpiece and turned off the nebulizer. Logan offered her the water, and she thanked him. She took several small sips before replacing the cap.

  Logan watched her for a few moments before saying, “Charlie, we need to…” He gestured with his eyes to Sara.

  Charlie nodded and turned to her. Removing the pulse oximeter from her finger, he said, “Sara, before we explain why you’re here, we need to take care of something. You’re not going to like it, but it’s for your own safety, I promise.”

  Fear flashed on her face and her chest heaved with deep breaths.

  “Just stay calm, we’re not going to hurt you,” Charlie said. “But we do need to check you for wires. We’ll also need you to change into another pair of clothes and we will have to burn what you’re wearing now, just to be safe.”