Free Logan by Melissa Foster

thought about the questions he’d asked when he’d seen the scars. How did you get these scars? They look fairly recent. And her ridiculous answers. Car accident, a few months ago. She’d been shocked when he didn’t press her for more information, and now she wondered if he’d mentioned the scars to Logan.
    She couldn’t worry about that. Not now. She had bigger things on her mind. With a deep inhalation, she focused on cleaning up the apartment.
    An hour later, with the bed freshly made and a to-go cup in hand, Stella walked out of her apartment and locked the door behind her.
    “Good morning, Stormy,” Mrs. Fairly called from the balcony above Stella’s door. She was a stout, kind woman in her late sixties who always greeted Stella with a smile. After spending so much time avoiding friendships, Stella found Mrs. Fairly to be a bright light in her otherwise lonely days.
    “Good morning. It looks like another beautiful day.” Stella hoped she hadn’t heard her and Logan last night. She’d hated lying to her about her name, and she didn’t want to keep piling lies on top of that one, but if she asked about Logan, Stella would have to make something up. Having hot, loud sex was one thing, but admitting it to her sweet landlord was another.
    “Yes, it does, and it looks like your handsome gentleman suitor is back.” She gazed over the railing of the balcony and pointed toward the street.
    The hair on the back of Stella’s neck rose. Her mind raced back to the calendar. She had three more days! Ice ran through her veins as she turned, looking past the crooked metal fencing to the black car parked out by the curb.
    No, no, no. Please God . I have three more days . She whipped around and looked up at Mrs. Fairly, her heart shattering in her chest. If Kutcher saw Mrs. Fairly, he could hurt her, too.
    “Mrs. Fairly, you should go inside.” Fear strangled her words, and she wondered if Mrs. Fairly could hear her.
    She heard footsteps behind her. She was not going down without a fight. No fucking way had she survived this long only to be killed in front of her sweet landlord in this rundown neighborhood. With trembling hands, she gripped her keys in her palm, the longest sticking out between her knuckles. It wasn’t much, but it was all she had. She clenched her eyes shut and spun around as she swung her arm back, ready to strike, and prayed that her brain wouldn’t go blank the way it had behind the bar.
    “Whoa!”
    A strong hand gripped her wrist as her knee came up and clipped him in the groin. Her eyes flew open as Logan doubled over in pain.
    “Oh no. Logan!”
    “Stormy? Why?” Mrs. Fairly peered down at her in horror.
    “I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else. Oh God. I’m sorry.” Fear made her shake as she apologized to Logan repeatedly and tried to reassure Mrs. Fairly.
    “He’s teaching me self-defense. It’s all in fun,” she said to Mrs. Fairly, hoping she’d buy the explanation.
    Logan grimaced as he waved to Mrs. Fairly.
    Mrs. Fairly shook her head. “You kids have strange ways of having fun.”
    After Mrs. Fairly went inside, Logan turned pained eyes toward Stormy. “Why didn’t you do that to the attacker last night?”
    “I don’t…I…” Tears stung her eyes as she tried to pull herself together.
    The muscle in Logan’s jaw bunched. He drew her into his strong arms and held her tight.
    “It’s okay. You did good,” he assured her through his obvious discomfort.
    “Good? I probably broke something down there .”
    “Well, there is one way to find out.”
    She couldn’t help but smile at the tease. “What are you doing here? I thought you were Kutcher.” She cringed. She didn’t mean to say his name, and by the way Logan’s hand had stilled on her back, she knew he didn’t miss a beat.
    Still a little shaky, she pushed from his arms and tried to distract him from what she’d said. “Why are you here? You scared the crap out of me.”
    “I came to take you to