And that’s when I see him.
Logan.
He’s leaning against the brick wall of the building, one shoulder pressed into it, arms crossed loosely over his chest. There’s something in his expression—something that resembles heartbreak, or pain, or both—etched across his face.
“Hey,” he says, offering a sad smile.
“Hi,” I reply, hesitant, my eyes darting back toward the door, making sure no one else is watching us.
“He’s still at the table,” Logan says quietly, reading my fear.
“Oh.” I nod. “Okay.” The word comes out barely above a whisper.
He takes a step toward me, and I flinch on instinct. My body reacts before my brain can stop it.
He immediately stops, his eyes widening. “Tessa.” There’s agony in his voice—raw and unfiltered. “You know I would never hurt you.”
No, I don’t know that, I think. I don’t know anything. So I don’t answer.
Logan stays where he is, rooted to the spot as if he’s reading my mind. “You don’t know that,” he says quietly, shaking his head. His lips pull into a frown. “How could you? I’m sure he’s told you so many things that turned out to be lies. I know you probably feel like you can’t trust anybody, but I’m telling you—you can trust me. I will never…” His voice catches. “I will never hurt you. I’m just asking you to trust me.”
I scoff, the sound bitter even to my own ears. “I can’t trust you, Logan. I can’t trust anybody. If you knew me—if you really knew anything about me—you would see that.”
“I get it,” he says, his voice steady. “But I’m begging you to trust me tonight because I’m getting you out of here.”
“What?” My voice jumps an octave as I take a step back. “What do you mean?”
“I need you to come with me,” he says. “I’m taking you away from here, away from him, so he can’t hurt you.”
“I-I-I—” I stutter, my voice turning shrill, panic clawing up my throat. “I can’t go with you. First of all, I barely know you, Logan. And second of all, he will find me. No matter where I go, he will find me.”
“He won’t,” Logan says firmly, taking another careful step forward. “I can keep you safe.”
My lip quivers as a tear slides down my cheek, hot and unwelcome. “No one can keep me safe. You don’t get it. I will never be safe.”
He slowly inches toward me and gently takes my hands in his. His palms are warm, steady, and nothing like Preston’s grip—no pressure, no demand, just an offer.
I want to flinch. To recoil. My body isn’t used to kind touch.
But even as I tell him I can’t trust him, something in me feels like I can.
The emotion in Logan’s voice is thick, urgent. “Please understand, Tessa, that I can’t leave you here. I can’t walk away knowing he’s going to hurt you because of me. Don’t you understand that I can’t do that?” His grip tightens just slightly—not possessive, not demanding—steady. Grounding. “I completely understand your hesitation. I do. But I have everything set up.”
He exhales, like he’s been holding this in for too long. “I spoke with Layla earlier. I have some of my friends in the shopright now making sure he doesn’t say or do anything to her. And if he does, they’ll handle it.”
My breath catches. Layla knew. She’s been helping him.
“Meanwhile,” he continues, softer now, “I need to get you away from him. We’ll come up with a plan. I have resources. I have ways to keep you safe. You don’t have to settle for this life.”
His eyes hold mine, unwavering, pleading. “Maybe I can’t get you to completely trust me. I know that takes time. But I am begging you to trust me enough to leave with me tonight. Now. Please.” His voice cracks, and I see unshed tears gathering in his eyes.
Save for a few conversations, a handful of get-to-know-you questions, and our daily meetings over cups of coffee, I don’t truly know Logan.
But I do know Preston.
And the fear of going home with him tonight outweighs the fear of the unknown. Because the truth is, there’s only so much I can take—and I don’t think I can take any more.
I nod. “Okay.”
