Fighting Fate (Granton University #1)(91)

Chapter Thirty-Four


PAIGE ESCAPED THROUGH THE BATHROOM.

After she, and Tess, and Bailey called every possible place Logan might be with no answer from any of them, she went into the bathroom, telling her friends, she needed a moment alone. But as soon as she closed the door to her room, she opened the door to theirs.

She unlatched all the locks with trembling fingers, trying to be as quick and silent as possible so her suitemates wouldn’t hear. And finally, she was in the hallway, free to find Logan. A few doors opened, big round, scared eyes peeking out, asking her what was going on. But she didn’t pause as she rushed for the exit at the end of the hall. She took the stairs two and a time and pushed her way outside within seconds.

The world was eerily quiet, the campus lawns totally deserted. In the distance, she saw the news helicopter hovering over the food court district and headed that way.

She raced down the street, keeping close to the bushes and trees for cover. When she neared the west end of campus, her breathing escalated.

Scared to death, she plowed forward anyway, more afraid she’d never see Logan again than actually encountering a madman with a huge gun.

Reaching out to touch the solid surface of Jamison Hall, the arts department building, she slowed her pace with growing hesitance, not sure how to creep up to The Squeeze without crossing an open, exposed street.

She heard a gunshot in the distance, and her heart shuddered in her chest. She couldn’t tell how far away the sound was—two blocks? Three?—or how close it was to the juice bar, but she prayed Logan hadn’t been—

An arm shot out from the thin alley between Jamison Hall and McCuffrey, the science center, as she began to dart across it. When it wrapped around her waist, she started to scream but a hand clapped over her mouth, muffling the sound. Her assailant dragged her backward into the alley and pressed her against the cold bricks of Jamison Hall.

She began to struggle until his face appeared before her, his azure blue eyes bright with shock and anger.

“What’re you doing?” he hissed.

“Oh my God!” She leaped at him, beyond relieved to see him, and wrapped her arms tight around his neck, squeezing with a force that made him stumble against her. With the solid warmth of his body reassuring her, she shuddered. “Oh my God. I was so worried. When I got the text alert, I thought you were there…getting your phone. I had to know…make sure you were okay.”

Adrenaline made her breaths come in sharp, painful wheezes. It was possible she was even hyperventilating. She wasn’t sure. It was hard to think. All she knew was that Logan hadn’t been hurt.

That was all that mattered.

Petting his hair, she kept touching him, stroking the skin on the back of his neck, so very, very grateful. Another shot rang out, echoing eerily down the alley. They were coming more sporadically now. Probably fewer people to shoot at. Hopefully.

Logan jerked in her embrace and pulled back to send her an incredulous stare. “Are you completely insane? How could you run toward a terrorist killing random people just to make sure I was okay?”

Paige could only stare at him, her mind a scattered mess. She held her breath, trying to control her rickety gasps for air. “What’re you doing here?” she was finally able to ask, glancing around the deserted alley.

It was quiet now. Too quiet.

Like death.

Logan shook his head and sent her a look as if he couldn’t believe she even had to ask. “Don’t you know? I showed up at your room but Tess and Bailey said you’d gone looking for me, so I raced toward a freaking terrorist shooting random people to make sure you were okay.”

A laugh blurted form Paige’s lungs. “God, I love you.” The words tumbled out before she’d even planned what to say. But she didn’t regret them in the least. She wanted him to know before—

Well, before anything else might happen.

His eyes flared with surprise. Then he lunged toward her and held her hard. The hug was comforting and warm. She felt safe and happier than she could remember being in a long time. Logan was holding her. Logan was alive. He dipped his face and kissed her hard, his mouth frantic as it clung to hers.

Another gunshot—too close for comfort—broke them apart.

“We need to get out of here.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her tight behind him. Bending his knees into a slight crouch, he inched them cautiously toward the opening of the alley as he ran his free hand along the wall and used it like some kind of guide.

Closing her eyes briefly, Paige leaned in to him so she could inhale his scent from his shirt. Still relieved he hadn’t been at work and wasn’t the blob she’d seen lying in the middle of the street on TV, she whispered, “Do you know who the shooter is?”

“No.”

“How are we going to get back to Grammar Hall?”

“No idea,” he murmured only to stop dead in his tracks, making her bump into him.

Paige looked up over his shoulder to see what had stalled him. A shadowed figure blocked their escape, and he had a nasty-looking semi-automatic rifle hooked over his shoulder with a sling.

“Logan!” She hissed and instinctively tried to move around him, worried how much more exposed he was than she. But he became like steel, nearly crushing her fingers as he refused to let her wiggle out from behind him.

“Who’s down here?” a shockingly familiar voice called. “More sheep? Baa.”