Chasing Impossible (Pushing the Limits, #5)(93)

“I’m smelling setup.”

I roll my eyes. Who would have thought this would have been so complicated? I’m going to have to sell him on this and sell him big. “I’m Mozart’s daughter.”

Snapped head in my direction.

“See why I can’t just walk away now?”

I can see the thoughts turning in his brain like a hamster in a wheel. “If I arrest you, you’ll go to jail.”

“Juvie,” I correct. “I’m not stupid enough to carry enough to cause real problems for me, just enough to cause the problems I need. But I have some requests that are really demands. I can’t be given bail. I’ve got to stay in and then go straight to juvie.”

“You know how much to carry to get arrested, but not to cause you problems?”

“Arrests and possible punishment—occupational hazards. Always felt it was best to be informed. Like the more you know?”

He does that slow blink that most sane people always do with me. Pity I’m chatting with him so I can be arrested. Otherwise, I’d find this conversation a lot more amusing.

“If you’re serious, there are people who would love to talk with you. Give you protection in return for a sliver of the knowledge in your head.”

“No. I want out. I’ve got enough problems without skipping down the snitch road.”

“I promise protection. Just—”

“I’m seventeen,” I repeat and drop the cold, numb mask I mastered and permit him into the desperation ripping through me. “Pretend I’m one of your daughters out there racing up and down the slide. I’m asking for a way out. For a chance to live a normal life. Just for a few seconds, pretend I’m one of them.”

He’s wavering and he’s fighting to keep his emotions in check and explore the opportunity for his job.

“Please don’t use me. If you got into this to serve and protect, then protect me.”

“Daddy!” One of his little girls calls from the top of the playground. “I want to fly. Come catch me.”

I used to fly and my daddy used to catch me. Right now, I need this guy to catch me, too.

He looks at me, I look at him, he opens his mouth and he answers.





Logan

Abby opens the front door and immediately grabs the bag from my hands. “You got queso, right?”

“And tacos.”

“Wait right here. We need plates.” Abby called this afternoon and demanded dinner. Four tacos for her, queso with chips, brownies with frosting, told me to order for me, and to tip well.

I close the front door behind me and nod at Nate. “What are you doing here?”

“Peggy’s’s sick so I’m filling in.” Nate surveys me like he has something to say and when he inhales like he’s going to speak, Abby reappears.

“We’re eating upstairs,” she says and then jots up.

I’m still standing there holding drinks and Nate watches.

“What?” I ask.

He sighs. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

She’s leaving. Nate knows it and the punch is right to the gut. Denny got the IDs faster than he thought he would. I run up the stairs after Abby and as soon as I’m in, I slam the drinks on her dresser. “I thought you said your new IDs would take a few days.”

Abby squints at me like I’m speaking gibberish. “They will.”

“Then what’s Nate upset about?”

Abby rolls her eyes. “Really? For real? Can one of the guys in my life not be all emotional? I swear. Next you guys will start a quilting circle and will be selling at church bazaars. Grab those drinks and put them on the floor.”

It’s then that I have the same wake-up moment as I did last night in my kitchen. Abby’s lighting a candle and it’s not the only one burning. There are several. Not too many, just enough, and on the floor next to her bed is a picnic-style blanket.

“Soak it in, Logan. This is the most you’ll ever get out of me for romance.” She blows out the stick she had used to light the candle and I soak in the glorious sight.

Abby’s rocking it in a pair of tight jeans and a halter top I’ve never seen on her before. It’s dark purple, glitters in the dull candlelight, but hugs her right. Her dark chestnut hair falls over her shoulders and has this beautiful wave.

I step forward to touch the silky strands. Hell, I’m stepping forward to devour her body, but a door opening below causes me to remember my own surprise. “I’ll be right back.”

Her forehead furrows. “You’ll be right what?”

Even though my fingers twitch with the need to caress her body, I force myself back down the stairs and meet a confused Nate at the landing. “I’m assuming this is yours?”

My response is to take it from him and then dash back up the stairs. Abby raises an eyebrow when I enter, close the door, and put the massive covered object on the floor. “I bought you a present.”

Abby shines. “Really? Can I open it?”

“Yeah.”

Abby kneels on the floor, removes the blanket and she freezes. My heart stops as what’s frozen on her face is panic.

“It’s a bunny,” she says.

“It’s a bunny,” I repeat.