The intruder pushed him from behind and Logan fell flat on his face—his eyes still seeking relief from the spray.
“What the fuck do you want, man?”
Was this the same person who’d broken into her store the other night? He blindly turned around hoping to see the intruder. He tried opening his eyes, squinting into the still dark room and could only barely make out a dark figure. What dim moonlight there was, shone through the open door but only darkened the man’s appearance, making any type of facial recognition impossible.
“How do I get in the safe?” the man demanded.
Logan knew how to get in the safe. He didn’t know if Gabriella actually knew he knew the code, but he’d watched her lock it and unlock it so many times, he couldn’t help but know it.
“I don’t know. This isn’t even my business.”
“Tell me!” the man demanded again.
Logan considered his options. He could tell the intruder he knew the code and be able to get up and maybe take him by surprise. But then what? Even if he was able to get the upper hand, its not like anyone knew they were in here rolling around in the dark. Gabriella. She would be here any minute and would get caught up in this lunatic’s plan. Shit. His eyes were much better, still watery, but at least he was able to keep them open. The fire extinguisher had made a mess of her back room. The powder was everywhere.
Logan stalled. “I don’t know the code. I don’t even work here. I came to meet a friend.” Shit, make something up. And fast. “I came to meet a friend but once I got here, she cancelled. Honest, I don’t know the code.”
Was the man holding a gun? Shit no, it was a butcher knife. Desperation rose in Logan’s throat as he considered his options. Would this guy really try to stab him to death? And Gabriella was going to show up at any given moment and the chances of this psycho hurting her were pretty good.
Think, Logan.
He nonchalantly surveyed his surroundings, looking for a weapon—any weapon, he could use on the guy and gain the upper hand. Was that a paintbrush? Fuck, what the fuck could he do with a paintbrush? His mind continued to race as he considered the possibilities and options he had available to him. The sad truth was he didn’t have a whole lot to work with. There wasn’t anything in his immediate vicinity he could latch onto. And making any sudden movements would only create more trouble.
“I’m in no mood for games, man. Give me the code and I will get outta here. Hurry up! Get up!” He kicked Logan in the leg. “Come on, let’s go.”
Gabriella pulled into the alley wondering how Logan could have possibly gotten into Lolita before she’d gotten there. And why hadn’t he turned any lights on? “Logan, you can’t surprise me, I already know you’re here.”
She grabbed her purse and headed for the back door but the second she got within earshot she could hear men’s voices. One of the men was yelling. “I’m in no mood for games, man. Give me the code and I will get outta here. Hurry up! Get up!”
Gabriella gasped, how could this be happening again? She slid back against the outside wall, opened her purse, grabbed her phone and dialed 9-1-1 and, leaving the phone on, she pressed the volume down—just in case—and shoved it back into her purse. Then as quietly as she could, she unzipped the secret compartment inside her purse and grabbed her gun.
What was she going to do? She couldn’t kill the guy. She kept the safety on because she had a bullet in the chamber. Despite what some people’s opinions were about carrying a weapon around with a bullet in the chamber, she did. She didn’t have children in her life and because it was her safety, she kept it in there at the ready. She couldn’t possibly use the gun on this man though. But she had to help Logan! With her nerves bundled in tight knots, she quickly glanced around the doorjamb into her store.
What she saw frightened her. White powder covered the floor. The man was standing, his back to her and she could barley make out Logan in the dark, lying on the ground. The man was holding a knife. Oh gosh. It could be worse, it could be a gun. Was Logan hurt badly? The next thing she knew, she was creeping up behind the man and was bringing her gun down on top of the man’s head. The sickening crack of his skull forced her to hold back the bile rising in her throat. The man slumped to the ground. His knife clattered to the floor. Turning the light switch on, she rushed to Logan, who was already getting into a standing position. “Are you okay? Logan, he could have killed you! Oh my gosh, Logan, is he dead?”
She was trembling uncontrollably, and Logan’s hands steadied her grip and pulled the gun out of her hands. Checking the safety, he set it on the counter next to her sink and turned back toward her.
Logan checked the man’s pulse. “No, he’s alive. You pistol-whipped him pretty good, huh? He was trying to rob you, Gabriella.”
Her breaths were coming out short. “I think I’m having a heart attack, Logan. What happened to you?”
“He blasted me with your fire extinguisher. And kicked me a few times but I can handle it.”
“I am so sorry you got involved in this. The police are on their way. At least, I hope.” She remembered her phone and pulled it from her purse. The line was dead. She dialed 9-1-1 again and was connected to a dispatcher. Relaying the situation, the dispatcher confirmed police were on their way. She watched Logan hover over the intruder.
