Never Look Back (Redemption Hills 3)
He bent over and vomited on the ground. It splashed on the pavement, mixed with the rain, and Logan thought he would faint.
His hand was curled around the necklace, his other around the gun.
What had he done?
What had he done?
Disoriented, he raked his arm over his face to clear some of the derangement that muddled his mind. He struggled to get it together.
To breathe.
With a shaky hand, he leaned down and set the gun on the ground before he dug his phone out of his pocket.
He had six missed calls from Nathan and a couple messages.
Dread sank all the way to the bone.
He squeezed his eyes shut to try to clear his vision, and he could barely fill his hemorrhaging lungs when he tapped into his messages.
He put it to his ear and forced himself to listen. That dread turned to alarm when Nathan’s panicked voice came through. “Logan, answer your fucking phone. I need you. Juna showed here.”
The words were haggard, coming between juts of his breaths.
“That job Trent is supposed to do tonight is a fucking trap. Juna and Dad set him up. He’s going to kill Trent, Logan…fuck…”
There was fumbling on the other end of the line.
“Juna said she couldn’t go through with it, so she came here to stop him, but he hasn’t been here since this morning and now he’s not answering his phone. We have to stop him. Warn him.”
Terror caught Logan by the throat. Frantic, he tossed the gun into the dumpster, then he stumbled out from his hiding place, mumbling, “No, oh god, no.”
He pushed out onto the street as the next message came through.
“Fuck, Logan. Answer.” Nathan choked a pained sound. “I’m going by myself. God, I hope you’re okay. I’m freaking the fuck out. I love you. I love you.”
The line went dead.
Frantic, Logan dialed Nathan. He was going to promise him he was coming, all while the reality of what he’d done chased him through the rain-drenched night.
His call went to Nathan’s voicemail.
“Shit,” he whimpered, trying to focus as he dialed Trent, and he shouted into the messages when he didn’t answer, “It’s a trap. Fuck, Trent.”
He realized he’d cried it.
Begged it.
He stumbled, dialed Jud.
Nothing.
Nothing.
He ordered a car that was two minutes away then stuffed the necklace into his pocket. His limbs were shaking out of control when he slipped into the backseat of the car as a rash of chills washed over him.
He looked down through the dim light to the blood that he didn’t realize covered his jeans and his hands.
Just like Nathan had promised it would.