Part 42 (1/2)

”Okay.”

Following his directions, she helped him break up the camp, then watched as he stowed his gear and boxes of plants in the back of the vehicle.

It was big. Bigger than the car parked at the house where they'd gotten into trouble.

”This is a... car?”

”You can call it a car. Technically, it's an SUV.”

”SUV,” she repeated.

”A sports utility vehicle.”

She nodded as if she knew what he was talking about. ”It's... nice.”

He laughed. ”Macho guys like them.”

When he opened the door, she leaned into the interior, struck by the rich leather and what looked like wood. But when she touched it, the feel was all wrong.

Uncertainly, she climbed into the seat, still intrigued by the interior.

While Logan went to the back to stow some more gear, she ran her hands along the surface in front of her. There was a seam in the leather, telling her there might be a compartment hidden from view. The a.s.sumption was confirmed as her fingers. .h.i.t a latch.

When she applied pressure, a little horizontal door fell open toward her knees. And one of those weapons-a gun-was practically lying in her lap.

As she stared at it, her throat clenched. She'd seen the man at the convenience store use the weapon, and she'd been awestruck. Now here was one of the things right in front of her.

Mesmerized, she reached for the gun, then lifted it up. It felt cool to the touch. And when she took it in her hand, it was alien and strange and heavier than she expected. Yet she wanted to know how it worked.

She turned it in her hand, trying to remember how the thug had held it: with the barrel part facing away from him. There was a metal ring at the bottom side, and a little lever in the middle of that. She slipped her finger into the ring just as Logan opened the door on the other side of the car.

When he saw the gun was pointed toward him, he froze. ”Aim that away from me, then take your finger out of the trigger guard,” he said in a low, quiet voice. ”If you don't want me to end up with a hole in the middle of my stomach.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

RINNA STARED AT Logan, trying to take in what he'd just said.

”I'd rather not end up dead. So point that away from me, and get your finger out of the trigger guard.”

Her finger went suddenly stiff.

”How?” she wheezed.

Carefully she did as he asked and laid the gun back in the compartment.

Then she began to shake.

Logan breathed out a little sigh. ”Thank you.”