A very big thanks for all the reviews! They definitely inspire me!
Extra special thanks to Alaidh, the world's best beta, for all the time she spent on this chapter!
Chapter 12
"Dayum girl, that sure was a hot run." Original Cindy looked at Max in surprise.
"Yeah, well I'm tryin' to bolt outta here early," Max answered absently, reading the address on the next package Normal had thrown at her as soon as she'd ridden in the doors of Jam Pony.
OC raised one eyebrow.
"That would be the 'I'm home early honey but I'm not checkin' up on you' visit?"
Max gave her a look. "I don't call Logan 'honey'," wrinkling her nose at the thought.
"Give it time, sugah," OC murmured under her breath.
Max was ready to rise to the bait but the voice of the news reporter broke through her thoughts.
"Police are baffled by the find of another severed arm in the South Market district. No details have been released as yet but it appears the body itself is still missing. A man tried to ..."
Max stared at the screen intently for a moment, no longer listening.
She'd been edgy all day. She had had a strange elusive feeling from very early on that she'd missed something important that she should have seen – the thought made her feel almost guilty. Wasn't she trained to be observant?
"So, is Original Cindy gonna have ta book a time to get her homegirl's attention today?"
Max turned around suddenly at her words.
"Sorry, OC. Guess I've got something on my mind," Max murmured vaguely.
"Maybe you should make that someone."
Max looked up, suddenly decisive. "I gotta go."
"Max!"
"It's important OC." Max's large brown eyes pleaded silently.
Original Cindy took one look at those expressive eyes and sighed resignedly, "Okay. You know Original Cindy always got her homegirl's back."
Max smiled her thanks. "You know I'll return the favour."
"Damn straight, you will," she called as Max turned to leave.
Now what excuse hasn't Normal heard, she pondered quickly, cause Original Cindy's gonna have to come up with one reeel quick.
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Logan checked his watch yet again as he waited by the front door of his apartment for Genevieve and Monique. They'd have to be reasonably fast if they were going to have enough time to look before the store he had in mind closed for the evening.
"We're here," Genevieve called to him as she came around the corner from the kitchen, Monique in tow, jackets on and hair brushed. Logan had suggested the jackets, while Genevieve had insisted on brushing both her own and Monique's hair. She also insisted they go to the bathroom and wash up.
Just like a girl, thought Logan impatiently. Well, maybe not every girl.
"Let's go, then," he said thankfully when they finally appeared in their pristine condition, thanks to Genevieve. Logan had to admit they both looked kind of cute as they went down in the elevator.
Logan pushed his way through the doorway and out onto the pavement; Genevieve and Monique followed close behind.
He'd left the kitchen in its diabolical state, hoping vaguely that they'd be back before Max returned – after all, he didn't want her to think that Eyes Only couldn't handle two children for the day.
The sidewalk was reasonably congested with people – all apparently enjoying the warmth of the early spring sun - as well as the inevitable garbage and safety fences covering the numerous potholes that had been there months, even years. All this considering that Logan's neighbourhood was the up- market end of town.
Genevieve now walked a little in front of Logan, tightly holding Monique's hand. The younger child had an alarming tendency to be distracted by anything that took her interest and would start to wander off accordingly, which made Logan, as it would anyone completely inexperienced in the ways of children - particularly wilful three year olds - feel decidedly uneasy.
It didn't help that he doubted his ability to be fast enough to grab her – the badly maintained sidewalks were difficult enough to navigate as it was without the added problem of chasing a small child. He placed a lot of confidence in Genevieve but it went against the grain to have to rely on a child for another child's safety.
"Where're we going?" Genevieve asked Logan as they stopped at a curb to wait for the green light.
"Red means stop!" Monique interrupted importantly
"There's a department store a few blocks up," Logan told her.
"I went in one of those in New York one time," Genevieve said with a touch of excitement.
"Oooh, 'Genewieve', it's green," Monique announced happily now, jumping up and down.
Logan was pondering the fact that it was one of the first snippets of information that Genevieve had volunteered about herself when, without warning, Monique became captivated by a small dog that someone walking the other way had on a leash. She turned excitedly, pulling away from Genevieve's hand, and ran full pelt back the way they'd come.
Logan swung around immediately, calling, "Monique!" only to look up in thanks as he saw that she'd run almost directly into the legs of a man in a suit who must have been walking a short way behind them.
Genevieve ran back and grabbed her sister's hand, scolding her for pulling away like that.
"She sure is fast," the man said as Logan wheeled up to them, the former still not relinquishing his hold on Monique's hand even though Genevieve now held the other one.
"Sure is," Logan responded evenly, putting his uneasiness down to the fact that his worries about the child's speed had been well founded.
"Maybe the streets are a bit dangerous for a little one this quick," the other man continued, his eyes resting briefly on the wheelchair. Something made Logan look at him more closely. Had he imagined the slight edge to the man's voice, and if so, was it intended as a threat or a warning?
"Her sister's a lot quicker," Logan responded with a slight edge to his own words, having understood the part that had been discreetly left unsaid.
The dark haired man looked at Logan for a second, then let go of Monique's hand, ruffling her hair as he did so, which made the child look up at him with an annoyed look and, to Logan's surprise, shake off Genevieve's hand as well to run over to him, hiding her face in his long legs.
The dark haired man moved off without another word, this time crossing the street and heading in the opposite direction, much to Logan's relief, who now turned his attention to the blonde head on his knee.
"Monique. You're gonna have to hold Genevieve's hand," he told her, going for what he hoped was the 'friendly but firm' tone as he put a hand to her head, unconsciously doing what Monique had taken exception to but a minute ago.
When the child neither answered nor moved, Logan began to wonder if she intended to stay in this position for hours. He looked around hopefully for Genevieve but found her gazing intently into the closest shop window. Logan had no way of knowing that hot tears were now welling up in Monique's eyes and spilling onto his leg.
"Monique," he tried again, veering somewhere between a pleading tone and a stern one.
This time the trembling shoulders gave her away, making Logan send up a quick desperate prayer that she wasn't going to throw a tantrum in the street as she had about the DVDs.
Unexpectedly, a voice just behind Logan said, "Hey kids. So, you're all out enjoying the sunshine?"
"Max!" said both Genevieve and Monique excitedly when they heard her voice, the tears vanishing as quickly as they'd come.
Logan leant back and looked up at Max, giving her a wry grin as the two girls threw their arms around her, almost knocking her bike out of her hands with their enthusiasm. "You timed it well," he said, then added a touch suspiciously, "Normal let you out early or something?"
"Or something," Max shrugged with the hint of a challenge in her dark eyes before padlocking her bike to a nearby post.
"Well, thank heavens for 'something'," Logan smiled with relief, surprising Max with the welcoming look he gave her.
"Max, Logan's taking us to the department store!" Genevieve told her, grabbing Monique's hand back again. "And he promised to take us to the toys and let us pick something we wanted!"
"Max come, too?" asked Monique hopefully.
"Am I invited?" she asked Logan a touch coyly.
Logan considered her for a moment before finally saying, "I think I may have room for you in my entourage."
"Logan, can you buy something for Max as well?" Genevieve asked, having decided that it didn't seem fair for her and Monique to get something and not Max.
"Max can have anything she'd like from me," Logan said warmly, then felt himself reddening slightly as he realized what he'd just said
Intuitively he knew that Max had come back on his behalf and, to his surprise, he felt a rush of warmth towards her for her thoughtfulness, rather than bristling with prickly outrage that she had doubted his capabilities.
Max didn't seem to mind, though, as he found her somewhat provocative gaze resting on him.
"Wow, I've been tryin' ta get that promise outta you since we met," she couldn't resist, having noted his discomfort and dazzling him with one of her smiles.
Logan felt like he was getting a bit out of his depth at this point and quickly backed away. "We'd er, better get goin' if we wanna make it before closing time," he said, refusing to look at her as he quickly swung back around to continue their walk, therefore missing the thoughtful look on Max's face as she watched him for a moment.
He pushed along in silence for a while, listening to Max chatting with the kids while he concentrated on avoiding the various holes and rubble and anything else that was a charming feature of post-Pulse Seattle. The thought came to him that this was probably not what Bling had in mind when he told him to rest his shoulder.
"Whoa Logan, hold up," Max called to him suddenly. "Monique's getting tired."
"Well, it's only another block," Logan told her a little breathlessly as he took a break himself, relaxing against the back of his chair.
"We at the 'partment store?" Monique asked hopefully.
"Sorry, sweetie, just a little way ta go. You want Max to carry you?"
Monique nodded and put her arms up to be lifted but no sooner was she in Max's arms than she reached out her hands wordlessly to Logan, almost skydiving onto his lap as her body leaned forward in an arc towards him.
Max threw Logan an amused smile, now juggling the weight of the child. "Hey, this morning I was their best friend – just what'd you do to them while I was gone?"
"Well, I did let Monique jump on my bed," admitted Logan, "and I don't wanna brag but ..." he finished by tapping the wheels pointedly on either side.
"Obviously a big hit with the girls," Max laughed. "So, you gonna take her?"
"Just set her down on my lap," Logan told her.
Monique's face broke into a beaming smile when she realized she was going to get her way.
Max carefully put her down on Logan's legs, wondering as she did where the thought had come from that she wouldn't mind sitting on his knee herself and hoping that Logan would put her heightened colour down to her bent position.
Monique edged her way back until she was snug against his chest, then turned to Genevieve and Max and gave them a big wave.
"Go, Logan," she ordered him peremptorily.
"All she needs is a whip," he murmured to Genevieve and Max with a wry smile.
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Logan had hoped Genevieve wouldn't be disappointed in the department store. He knew from experience that it wasn't nearly as impressive as the ones that still existed in New York.
It was now ten years since the Pulse had hit and most of the suburban malls still lay as empty wastelands. Initially they'd closed because there had been no utilities to serve them but by the time some semblance of power had returned, many of them had been looted and vandalized and there'd been no credit facilities, no electronic banking, no ATMs and on top of that, very few people who had any money to spend. It was hard to go to a bank and withdraw money when they no longer had any record that your account ever existed. The country had been in chaos – and to Logan's disgust, it still hadn't recovered.
Now department stores were strictly for the privileged few who had somehow managed to keep their heads above water long enough to eventually take advantage of the situation, men like the 'Jonas Cales' of this world.
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It wasn't a huge toy department, not like the ones Logan could remember from his childhood, anyway, when entire huge stores sold nothing but toys, but Genevieve and Monique certainly looked about them as if they were in the biggest toy store in the world.
Monique was so entranced that she sat passively on Logan's lap as he wheeled about, while Genevieve kept saying, "Wow," at the various displays, each one invitingly set out to attract a child's attention.
"Can I touch?" she asked breathlessly, looking at the shelves neatly set out, perhaps not with an abundance of toys but certainly with an abundance of quality.
Logan grinned, remembering the havoc he had wrought on many a toy store. "Sure."
Here were many of the brand name toys that the rest of the world still enjoyed en masse but which were now only available to the favoured few in post Pulse America.
Even Max was amazed at the selection, both on the shelves and behind the glass cases where the more expensive items were kept safe from prying and thieving fingers.
"You have all this stuff when you were a kid?" asked Max in some amazement and as he nodded his assent she raised her brows a little. He really had been a spoiled rich kid.
Genevieve had wandered off to look at an ornate collection of music boxes, while Max followed Logan, with Monique still sitting quietly on his knee, to an elaborate collection of trains underneath a glass case. Max noticed dryly that none of it was priced. She supposed if you had to ask what the price was, you couldn't afford it.
"Trains," Monique called out excitedly, pointing to the demonstration one that was chuffing around a track complete with stations, signals, tunnels and all other types of railway paraphernalia. She added her own little 'chuff chuff' noises as she bounced a little on Logan's knees.
Logan stared at it intently.
"My dad had one of these – huge set, took up a whole room," he told Max. She could see he was briefly remembering a different afternoon to the one he was experiencing now.
"Wow."
"A lot of it had been his dad's as well. He liked to run it Sunday afternoons."
"Must've been fun," Max murmured, leaning over the case and watching his profile, wondering for the hundredth time what type of a child and teenager he must have been. Logan was incredibly guarded when it came to his own life. Everything she had learnt about him so far had only been gathered by the few morsels he dropped here and there. She remembered her surprise when she'd found out by accident that he'd been married only because she'd heard the message Val was leaving him on his answering machine. Of course, seeing him squirm with embarrassment had made the whole thing worthwhile.
"Not really," admitted Logan, looking disarmingly guilty and wrinkling his nose a little at the memory. "Truth is all I wanted to do was play computer games."
"So what else has changed?" she murmured provokingly.
Logan gave her a quelling look, then his eyes became more reflective as he said, "Mom was always a bit disappointed that I wasn't more interested in it," leaving Max with the impression that perhaps what his mother had thought meant more to him.
"So what happened to it?"
Logan shrugged a little dismissively. "Pulled apart, then languished in a cupboard for some years before Mom eventually gave up on me and gave it to Bennet and his brothers. Maybe that's why Uncle Jonas doesn't like me," he added lightly as a sudden afterthought. "You know, all that breaking with tradition stuff, oldest son to oldest son, blah, blah, blah."
"Jonas doesn't like you because the man's a jerk," Max told him bluntly, wondering if Logan had one of his weird notions that he should feel guilty about his failure to be the perfect son.
"I'd better go see where Genevieve is," Max said, suddenly looking around.
Logan thoughtfully turned his attention back to the trains, one arm hooked around Monique, lost for the moment somewhere between boyhood and manhood, when he heard Genevieve calling his name.
"Hey, Max just went looking for you," he smiled turning his head around.
Genevieve nodded then pointed towards her sister. "Logan, Monique wants to get down. She's kicking you - she always does that when she wants to get down."
"Oh," he said lightly, noticing that Genevieve seemed to be looking at him a bit strangely as he removed his hand from the child and let her slip off his knee.
"Now don't you wander off," he warned her, remembering how difficult she'd been to control in the early stages of their walk.
"We'd better follow her," he grinned at Genevieve. "So, you see anything you like?"
"Everything!" answered Genevieve enthusiastically, following Monique who made her way immediately to the doll section.
At first the small child was reluctant to touch but once Logan told her she could there was no stopping her, making Logan have second thoughts about the wisdom of bringing a three year old to a toy store and now more glad than ever that Max had turned up – the child may never want to leave.
"These are the most beautiful dolls I've ever seen," Genevieve was marvelling when Max returned. In her hand she held a soft-bodied baby doll that was so cleverly made it flopped in a relaxed way just like a real baby. There were two types to choose from, one of which had blonde hair and an exquisitely smocked pink dress, tights on her legs, and pale pink baby shoes made of leather. The face was adorable, the shape of the hands perfect – in short, Genevieve had never seen a more beautiful doll. Monique was holding the same type of doll, but hers had dark hair and her dress and accessories were a soft mint green.
Max would never have called herself a 'girly girl' but even she was impressed.
Genevieve looked shyly at Logan. "Do you think...?" she began hesitatingly. "They are very expensive," she added a little worriedly.
Logan was just glad they'd finally made a decision. "If that's what you're happy with..." he agreed, unlocking his brakes to signify a done deal and they could now leave.
"You sure you want a doll?" Max asked the older girl, wondering if perhaps she would have preferred one of the music boxes she had been so taken with earlier.
"Well, I know I'm getting a little bit old for dolls but I've never seen anything like this one. I'd like to keep her and maybe one day have a doll collection," then she added thoughtfully, "and this way Monique and I have something we can play with together."
"Sounds like a plan to me," Logan assented, keen to leave now that a decision had been made.
"Logan, we really need to get the girls some pyjamas, a change of clothes and underthings." This time Max spoke a little hesitantly – for all her earlier joking, she never asked Logan for anything unless he agreed to let her pay it back but, even though this was for the girls, she still felt a twinge of awkwardness.
Logan looked at his watch. "We don't have much time before the store closes."
"Why don't you take Genevieve with you and pay for the dolls and I'll take Monique with me and grab some clothes for them," Max suggested. "I can meet you at the front entrance."
Logan pulled his wallet from his jacket pocket, then peeled off some bills and gave them to Max. "Will that be enough?" he asked, appreciating her wisdom in the way she'd divided the kids leaving him with Genevieve.
"More than enough. I'll meet you outside soon," Max smiled, grabbing Monique's hand determinedly. The little thing wasn't happy to be parted from her doll but after some explaining, she seemed to finally understand that once they were out of the store, Max would give it back to her.
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It didn't take long for Logan to pay for the dolls.
The woman at the counter put each one in a large bag and even managed to talk Logan into buying some accessories for them such as blankets and a feeding set for each one.
Genevieve's smile couldn't have been any wider by the time they'd paid for it all.
Impulsively she threw her arms around Logan's neck. "Thanks, Logan. Wow, this is really something! I've never had anything like this - ever!" She still sounded as though she couldn't believe it.
Logan felt a little embarrassed. He didn't feel that spending his money on them, when he had an over abundance of it anyway, was deserving of her praise but he was glad she was happy.
"Can you carry all that stuff?" he smiled at her, knowing intuitively that she would have no intention of giving up her spoils.
Predictably she nodded her head.
Logan checked his watch as they rode the elevator down to ground level. It was only a few minutes before closing time. They shouldn't have long to wait for Max.
It was noticeably cooler and darker as they headed outside, making Logan glad that he'd insisted the girls bring their jackets.
With a smile, he noticed Genevieve peeping in her bag every few minutes as if she couldn't believe what was in there.
"We'd better wait here, out of the way," Logan told her, motioning with his head towards the store window. Once there he set his brakes and took his gloves out of his pocket.
As he put them on he glanced up to see Genevieve watching him and gave her a quick grin.
"How come you didn't know Monique was kicking you?" she asked suddenly, as though the question had been on her mind for some minutes.
Logan was a bit surprised by his own lack of embarrassment as he admitted to her, "Because I couldn't feel it."
"Cool," the child answered, impressed.
Logan looked at her with a quizzical expression. It wasn't the response he'd expected but he was quickly learning to expect that lately.
"There was this kid at my last school who kept kicking me," she explained, her face growing more and more incensed as she told him. "Every day he did the same thing - I had these gi-normous bruises all up my legs!"
"Didn't you tell your teacher?"
"Nah. She wouldn't do anything," she answered dismissively.
Not wanting to break her bubble too much, Logan reminded her a touch wryly, "No feeling, no walking."
The thought brought her up short. "That's not so cool," she admitted, then barely pausing a beat, added with the mercurial optimism of a child, "Still, a wheelchair must be heaps o' fun."
Logan smiled a little at her innocence. What child hadn't at some time or other thought a wheelchair would be a fun toy. Keeping his mouth shut, he didn't tell her just how quickly he had found the novelty wore off or how many unpleasant side issues there were that had to be dealt with on a daily basis.
"Do you still get bruises?" Genevieve was asking with great interest now. Once she'd tested the water and found out he didn't bite, with the natural curiosity of a child she now wanted to know 'everything' about everything.
Logan was beginning to wonder how big a hole he had dug for himself, reflecting a little curiously that no one had ever asked him these questions before. He was just wondering why they weren't as difficult to answer as he had half expected them to be when he happened to look across the road and instinctively froze.
The man wore the same suit that still looked far too small for him and his face looked even uglier to Logan than he had remembered when the man had cornered him in the market three days ago. It was George, the goon from the market who'd snatched the envelope from Logan's knee – unmistakeably so. He was standing across the road but obviously intent on watching Logan.
Logan felt a sudden leaden feeling in the pit of his stomach as he stole a quick glance at Genevieve, who was beginning to get the first inkling that there was something wrong when Logan hadn't replied. Looking quickly at him she'd seen his eyes behind his glasses suddenly narrow, his hands going instinctively to his brakes.
"Is there something wrong, Logan?" she asked hesitantly.
Logan's thoughts were racing. Quickly looking towards the door of the department store he grimaced when there was still no sign of Max, even though the store was now officially closed. A doorman stood on duty to ensure that no one tried to enter. Logan wondered briefly about spinning some tale about a missing child to get back inside when the man himself went inside and, to Logan's disquiet, bolted the glass doors.
Logan shot another look across the street. 'George' was still there but Logan was beginning to feel horribly exposed as he looked around and realized that he and Genevieve were now the only ones waiting on this side of the street for the whole block. Once the store had closed, it was as if everybody had simply disappeared.
This was not good.
He could feel an avalanche of hot coals being poured onto his head – courtesy of his own conscience. What were you thinking bringing the girls out when you knew there was the possibility of trouble?
It was doing absolutely nothing in helping him formulate a plan.
He looked towards the door again, vainly hoping that Max would appear, but there was still no sign of her.
"Logan?" Genevieve was beginning to sound worried.
"Grab your bags," Logan told her tensely. "I think we may have to play a little game of hide and seek," he told her with a touch of a smile, trying to sound a little more light-hearted than he felt.
With big eyes, the child obediently picked up her treasures and waited for Logan to tell her what to do as she watched him take his phone out.
Hoping that it would send an alarm to Max, he rang her pager, then put his phone back in his pocket, all the while carefully watching the traffic that went by and the man in the suit across the way, who was presently still staring across at them. It bothered Logan that he was doing it far less surreptitiously than he had been a few minutes ago.
"Okay, Genevieve," Logan murmured, his teeth gripping his bottom lip as he waited tensely, "when I say 'go' I want you to head down that alley next to us. There's a man across the way who might want to cause ...a little trouble," he finished vaguely.
"What should I do then?"
"I want you to run as fast as you can and when you get down to the end, go into one of the shops if they're open or find a good place to hide outside. But you have to be quick. You won't have much time."
"I don't wanna leave you," she said at once, scared both for herself and for him.
"Listen, Max or I will come and get you. I promise."
"Logan ..."
At that moment, two huge trucks rumbled slowly by. Logan grabbed her hand and gave it a shake and yelled, "Run!" at her.
Not knowing what else to do, she did as she was told, gripping tightly to her bags and heading down the small road as fast as she could, her eyes wildly searching for a good place to hide.
That done, Logan had to decide what to do next. His first thought had been to give Genevieve as much of a head start as he could. He just wished he knew for sure if George was after him or the children. How could he be sure of anything? Nothing had made sense the last few days.
He forced his mind into some semblance of calm, his hands poised on the wheels of his chair, gripping tightly. Logan shot a look around again hopefully – okay, he told himself, no good wishing for Max to magically appear. Let's just do it.
Making up his mind, he headed in the direction Genevieve had run just as the end of the second truck finished lumbering by. He couldn't leave the child to fend for herself if by chance George went after her and not him.
Logan gave a quick glance across the road. He didn't need X5 eyesight to see that George was unhappy about the present developments. He now stood at the curb, his eyes boring into Logan as he waited for a break in the traffic so he could cross the road.
Pushing himself as fast as he could, Logan headed down the narrow street, keeping to the edge of the road as there was no sidewalk.
Squinting ahead, he looked vainly for Genevieve. "Thank God," he murmured gratefully when he could see no sign of her.
The right hand side of the road simply bordered the wall of the department store they'd just spent such a pleasant time in. The left side seemed to be a few ramshackle stores and a closed coffee shop. Nothing looked particularly open this time of night.
Logan pushed on, wondering how far he'd get before George caught up to him, thinking it was a pity it was so damned hard to hide a bulky thing like a wheelchair with him in it when he suddenly stopped, his own short breaths sounding unnaturally loud in the stillness of the early evening.
Just a few hundred yards away he could hear the intermittent sound of traffic, revving engines, the odd distant car horn and, somewhere nearer at hand, perhaps above him in one of the buildings, a heavy bass line thumped to the latest tune.
He closed his eyes for a second as the inevitability of his situation hit him, then swung slowly around.
As he'd expected, George was now approaching him, gun at the ready, only a matter of ten yards away. Either the man was an Olympic runner or I'm just slow, Logan thought dryly. He'd hoped he would have had a little more time, a few more seconds to think, a few more seconds to prepare himself. Max, where are you?
Twisting a little, he looked towards the second man, dressed in a suit, who now purposefully blocked off the other end of the street. It was this man that Logan had seen a few seconds ago, the 'decider' in Logan's decision to give up the race.
Well, I might as well get my breath, Logan sighed resignedly, noticing that his mouth seemed to have suddenly become very dry.
He'd stopped outside the closed coffee shop. It was hard to tell if it was closed permanently or closed for the night because there was the inevitable pile of cardboard boxes and other trash out in front of it.
"Well, George. It's certainly a surprise to see you in these parts," Logan drawled calmly, keeping his back to the coffee shop so that he could see in both directions.
George said nothing.
Logan looked up at him, watching the gun he held in his hand warily and keeping his own hands in clear view by resting them on his wheels. He didn't want George to get the wrong idea.
Finally George stopped about five feet away. His face impassive, and ugly, thought Logan.
Logan swung a quick glance the other direction. It filled him with no confidence at all to see that the second man appeared to have disappeared.
"Where's ze girl?" asked George in a slightly clipped, unmistakably foreign accent.
The question caught Logan by surprise. He'd convinced himself that this was all about Martin and Emma Belding's vanishing act.
Something of his unease must have shown in his face because George came forward another few steps, now within arms length of Logan. He wondered wildly if it would do any good to lunge out and try to grab the gun but the thought of landing flat on his face didn't inspire him. The chair wasn't great as far as a fast getaway went but it was definitely preferable to his only alternative without it.
"Ze girl" George repeated.
"You asked that already," Logan reminded him, resisting the urge to wheel back as George took another step towards him. He wasn't a tall man but at close quarters he was more than threatening enough for Logan's peace of mind.
"Ze gun does a lot of damage zis close," George told him. "But perhaps you know zis already ... yes?"
This time Logan stiffened instinctively. "Oh yeah, I know 'zis'," he acknowledged, his eyes hard.
"Give me ze girl, and you are free to go," the muscle bound man said reasonably.
"It's a generous offer," Logan agreed, "but ..." and he made a face as if considering the matter, "I don't think so."
For a man with so many muscles bunched under the one suit, it certainly didn't seem to affect his speed or freedom of movement, Logan thought wryly as his head snapped back a little from the stinging backhand.
It was precisely at this moment that it appeared to Logan as if someone had hit the fast forward button.
Logan looked up from the blow, his senses spinning a little from the force of it and the fact that it was in the same spot as his bruise from two days ago. The first thing he saw was the blur of colour beside him and he realized that Genevieve had run out from her hiding place, which had apparently been amongst the discarded coffee shop boxes, crying and saying, "No, no."
George now looked at her with a wolf-like stare, then slowly began to bring his gun up.
Barely having time to register the ramifications of all this, something made Logan dart a look around for the second man who'd entered the alley. To his horror he saw a man, he now recognized as the man whom Monique had run into, lifting a gun with the obvious intention of firing it.
"Oh, God," Logan ground out, desperately throwing himself sideways at Genevieve and bringing them both to the ground as the sound of two quick reports shattered the air.
Running footsteps came closer. Logan faced the inevitable and lifted himself onto his elbows, then quickly put a hand on Genevieve's head, saying quickly, "Don't look. Close your eyes."
George had been ugly in life – in death he was even more so. The staring startled eyes added a grotesqueness that had not been there whilst the man still breathed.
Logan looked away from the face with distaste, then braced himself for whatever was about to happen as he looked at the pair of highly polished black shoes that came into his range of vision.
He was about to look up at the face of the man in front of him, which wasn't easy from his sprawled position on the roadway, when a black shadow came out of nowhere. Logan looked up just in time to see the owner of the black polished shoes collapse to the ground, only to be dragged up one more time by Max, who delivered a jaw breaking right hook that ensured he went down and would be down for a considerable time.
Max stepped forward, surveying the scene – her gaze sweeping both of them. Logan met her eyes as he shifted on his elbows uncomfortably while Genevieve obediently kept her head down.
"Keep your head down, Genevieve," she said calmly as she stripped George of his jacket and covered his face and the tell tale red stain on his left breast.
"There, you can hop up now," she said, getting down on her haunches to stroke the girl's hair. Genevieve knelt up and clung to Max, burying her face in Max's shoulder.
"You okay?" she asked Logan with raised brows as he lowered his head for the moment.
"Ground's kinda hard," he hinted, then looked around suddenly. "Where's Monique?"
"She's cool. I left her with the store security guard. Figured you were in some kinda trouble when I got your page."
Max gently pulled Genevieve away from her and helped her up. "I gotta help Logan. Why don't you grab your bags?"
At the thought of her doll, the child brightened the tiniest bit and nodded, turning to retrieve them.
"Not quite what I had in mind when you suggested a shopping trip," Max remarked to Logan as she righted his chair and brought it over for him.
He looked a little pale. I guess being shot at has that kind of affect on most people, she thought dryly.
"You okay to do this?" she asked, hiding her concern.
"Sure," grunted Logan as he turned over in readiness to haul himself into the chair. "Why don't you check who our friends are," he suggested, pausing a moment to gather his strength.
Max took the hint and turned away, checking through George's pockets first. Nothing.
The second man, who she had brought to the ground, still hadn't moved. She quickly checked his pulse and found it steady and strong. "Well, this guy's gonna live to fight another day," she told Logan without looking around.
Next she attacked the man's pockets.
He wasn't nearly as secretive as the dead man had been. In fact, anything but.
"Look at this," she said to Logan, coming to stand in front of him, a small black folder about the size of a credit card in her hand.
She waited for him to put his feet on the footrest, then handed it over.
Logan recognized it at once.
"Max, you knocked out an FBI agent," he said quietly.
TBC