Seattle, Washington.
"I said, open this damn door now. And keep your hands on the wheel," the man hissed again.
Logan's mind raced. He didn't dare glance toward the backseat, which had grown oddly quiet. His own gun was so close, right the glove compartment, but Eva was close too. He had never been as aware of her presence as he was now. He reached down slowly and hit the button to unlock the doors.
The masked man swung himself up into the seat, keeping the muzzle of the gun trained on Logan.
"I said keep you hands on the wheel."
"Look, I have to use my hands to drive or we're not going anywhere," Logan replied steadily, as he pressed the lever to move the car forward with the flow of traffic.
"What do you want? If it's money, my wallet is right here…" Logan continued.
"Shut up. Just keep driving and I'll let you know if I want anything else from you." The man leaned over and pressed the muzzle of the gun against Logan's ribs.
The man was a squat man, who looked nearly wider than he was tall. Logan had caught a brief glimpse of the meaty fingers which held the gun. They also sported several gold rings, included one with a large yellowish stone. He occasionally barked orders at Logan to turn one way or another, slowly leading them down to the waterfront across the bridge. Logan managed one quick glance in the rearview mirror. The car seat was empty. In fact, the built-in car seat had been flipped up, out of sight. Eva was nowhere to be seen.
The next time he made a lane change, Logan turned his head away from the man and the gun.
He dared a whisper, "Eva, I know you can hear me."
Logan turned back towards the road. He drove on. At the next lane change, he tried again.
"When I stop and get out of the car, you've got to run away. You know what to do, okay, honey. I love you" Logan whispered.
They were winding their way down the curving, steep roads toward the waterfront. They had reached the recreational docks near the university. In summer, the area was filled with people renting boats and enjoying the hot Seattle sun. It was October now and the buildings stood closed and silent. The squat man motioned Logan to stop the car behind one of the boathouses.
"Get out of the car," the man grunted.
Logan reached behind the man for his chair and wheels, assembled it deliberately and lowered himself into the seat. If the man was surprised by the chair, he didn't show it.
"He must have been following me, "Logan thought. "For how long? Had he seen Eva? He couldn't have known she was in the car or he would have already said something."
The man followed him out the driver door, keeping the gun trained on him.
The masked man directed Logan to a rusted gate next to the building. His hand was on the latch, when he swore under his breath, "Hold on, I must have dropped the key in your car." He turned to head back towards the car.
At that moment, Logan grabbed the hand that held the gun, forcing it down. As the man backed away in surprise, Logan closed both hands over the man's gun hand, throwing his weight forward. He slid one arm down around the man's knees. Now they were both sliding to the ground. They hit the ground hard and Logan heaved himself forward, pulling himself up to the man's head. He had just wrapped him arms around the man's neck in a headlock when he heard the click of the gun and felt its bite against his chest. The squat man had pulled a small revolver out from some other pocket. Reluctantly, Logan released his grip. The man's mask had slid off and he yanked it back on. The man picked himself up off the ground, panting, and straightened up.
"You are going to pay for that," he spat out as he cuffed Logan hard with the butt of the gun and shoved his chair out of reach. He turned back toward the car once again. Keeping the gun leveled at Logan, he rummaged through the car and slammed the doors closed, including the passenger door, which he thought he must have left open the first time. Not finding what he was looking for, or anything else, for that matter, he returned to the gate, swearing under his breath. Logan breathed his own sigh of relief and silently wished Eva a quick getaway.
Logan's captor fished around in his pockets one more time and pulled out a key.
"Damn key was there all along," he muttered as he hobbled back to the gate. He shoved the muzzle of the gun roughly against Logan's shoulder.
"Wheelchair guy like you. I thought you were going to behave yourself. Maybe I should just make you get up and walk the rest of the way," the man growled.
"You'd be waiting a long time," Logan said quietly. When Logan remained sitting on the cold ground, the man reluctantly hooked the chair with his foot and pushed it toward Logan. Grudgingly, Logan heaved himself back into the chair and pushed through the gate.
The squat man shoved Logan the last few feet into a small office in the corner of the abandoned boathouse. The walls of the boathouse stretched up into the darkness and Logan could just make out the catwalks and sliding ladders that enabled the staff to reach boats suspended from the higher racks when the boathouse was full. The office served only to provide a little separation from the activity of the boathouse. Its walls only reached up about seven feet. The office had no ceiling, so that the catwalks and upper storage areas looked down into the office directly. The boathouse was shrouded in darkness.
"You're staying in here until the boss comes."
"Who's your boss and what does he want with me anyway?"
"I think you'll find out soon enough who he is. I have no idea what he wants with you. Although, so far, you're a lot more trouble than you're worth," he said.
"All I know is that the boss has more firepower lined up outside this building for you than I've seen in a long time. You must have really pissed him off."
Slapping some duct tape across Logan's mouth, the masked man tied Logan's hands roughly behind him. He tipped Logan out of the chair and shoved him up against one wall. He pushed the chair to the other side of the tiny room.
"That should keep you here for a while."
The concrete boathouse floor felt icy cold and solid under Logan's cheek. With his arms tied behind his back, there was no way that he could raise himself into a sitting position. His shoulder ached vaguely, where he had hit the ground earlier. The relief he had felt when he realized that Eva had escaped from the car had been short-lived. Max was going to kill him. He had just let their five year-old daughter walk away alone into the city.
He tried to force his mind back to his current situation, but his mind kept returning to Eva. If only he could have sent a message to Sebastian or Alec, but there had been no time. He could only hope that Eva was her mother's daughter.