Mr. Dangerously Sexy. Stefanie London

her teeth, she ended the call and slid into the driver’s seat. This weekend was going to be a freaking nightmare.

      On the bright side, at least now she could count on Logan being at the retreat on time. A wicked smile curved on her lips. If he wanted to play protector all weekend, then she’d give him something productive to do. He hated spreadsheets with a passion, so she’d hand him some of the biannual forecasts to read. That should keep him busy.

      She turned the engine over and flicked on her headlights. The sun had dropped significantly since she’d arrived at the gas station. It would be pitch-black soon, and the cottage would be dark. Secluded.

      What if Logan and Rhys were right? A shiver raced the length of her spine.

      “There’s no stalker, just like there’s no bogeyman,” she reminded herself. “There’s no zombies, no killer llamas, no Freddy Krueger and no...whatever the hell that thing was in Donnie Darko.”

      But the words didn’t comfort her. A tiny seed of fear had been planted by the email, and now it was flourishing under Logan’s paranoia. She tapped the lock button and with a click, all four doors secured her inside. Shaking her head, she cursed herself for letting Logan get to her.

      As she pulled onto the empty road leading toward the cottage, her lights swept across the horizon. Tall trees rushed past her windows in a blur of deep green. Growing up, the cottage had been her happy place—a haven where she’d spent time with her father and did all the things his busy schedule ordinarily excluded. Like fishing, inspecting butterflies and making homemade pizza.

      Lights flashed in her rearview mirror as a car drove up behind her, pulling her out of her memories. The high beams shone in her eyes, blurring her vision.

      “Inconsiderate moron,” she grumbled under her breath as she adjusted the mirror to redirect the glare.

      The car behind her was close. Too close. Like one sneeze away from a rear-ender close.

      “What the hell?” Addison glanced at her speedometer and confirmed that she was indeed driving at the limit. “Give a girl some space, would you? Jerk.”

      With one lane of traffic in each direction, she couldn’t pull over to let the impatient person pass. But no cars appeared to be coming the other way, so why didn’t they simply overtake her? She pressed the accelerator down to put some space between them, but the other driver ate up the distance in seconds. The vehicle looked high, maybe a truck of some kind. But the lights were so blindingly bright that she couldn’t make out any specific details like color or model.

      “Go around,” she said, motioning with her hand for the driver to pass her.

      She reached for her phone and hit redial on Logan’s number. If he wasn’t too far behind—as he’d said—then maybe he could get the plate number.

      “Miss me already?” Logan’s voice sounded far away on her phone’s tiny speakers.

      “Have you passed the gas station yet? There’s this idiot tailgating me and I’m hoping you can get his plates.” She pressed harder on the accelerator and glanced anxiously as the needle on the speedometer climbed higher. “He’s making me nervous.”

      “I should be caught up to you soon, but I haven’t passed the gas station yet. Drive carefully, okay?”

      At that moment the truck pulled out beside her. “All good, looks like he’s going to overtake me. About freaking time.” She sighed. “No need to—”

      A loud crunch cut her off and her car swerved violently. The gut-wrenching sound of metal on metal filled her ears and she had to yank the steering wheel to right the car. Her head snapped to the side in time to see the other vehicle coming back for seconds. She screamed. But it didn’t make a lick of difference. Seconds later, her Audi hit dirt on the side of the road.

      “Logan!” she cried out.

      Another sickening crunch boomed and the car shook with impact. Then her headlights bounced around in front of her and she was flying over the gravel.

      * * *

      “ADDISON!” LOGAN YELLED through his phone, but the sound of squealing tires drowned him out. Her frightened scream cut into him. “Hang in there, Addi! I’m right behind you.”

      Except he wasn’t. The road was dark and long and he wasn’t exactly sure how much distance was between them.

      “Logan, please—” Addison’s terrified voice was cut short when the call died.

      “Fuck!” he roared and planted his foot down on the accelerator.

      The sides of the road weren’t well illuminated and he still hadn’t found the gas station. This was the usual route she took to the cottage—they’d driven it many times together. He was sure of it. But what if she’d gone another way tonight? What if she’d tried to find a shortcut or avoid the toll roads?

      What if, what if, what if...

      If something happened to her... God help him. He’d tear down every building in the state until he figured out who’d done this to her.

      His car shot through the darkness, well over the limit. It didn’t matter; nothing mattered except finding her. He eased off the gas as he rounded a corner.

      “Come on, come on, come on,” he chanted.

      His eyes scanned the next stretch of road. Then a faint glow grew in the distance. Signs displaying the price per gallon appeared as he approached and he checked the name. Yes, this was it. The gas station she’d mentioned earlier. She shouldn’t be too much farther along this road.

      Pushing his car as hard as it would go, he reached for the glove compartment and flipped it open. His SIG P226 sat where he’d placed it earlier, the last resort he hoped never to need. But if anyone had brought harm to Addison, he wouldn’t hesitate to use it.

      The gas station whizzed past and darkness stretched out before him. Flicking on his high beams, he scanned the side of the road on both sides. Nothing.

      “Come on, dammit.” He slammed the steering wheel with the heel of his hand, tension tightening the muscles in his shoulders and arms. Making him ache. The blood drained from his knuckles, leaving them white.

      His headlights brushed over the empty road and the trees. At a curve ahead, a glint of something red caught his attention. The dot grew bigger. A truck.

      Easing off the accelerator, his eyes scanned the area and sure enough, a trail of skid marks exited the road not too far up. He frantically searched for Addison’s silver Audi, his heart in his mouth.

      Her sporty little car wouldn’t have been able to stand up to this much bigger vehicle. What if she’d...?

      “Stop that right fucking now,” he said to himself as he pulled over to the side of the road, a few feet behind the truck.

      Freaking out wouldn’t help anyone. If there was one thing he’d learned in his years of dealing with dangerous situations, it was that you had to stay cool, calm and collected. In control. No matter what horrors you might see.

      He forced down the wash of dark worries and killed the engine. His fingers wrapped around his gun. The cold, hard steel of his SIG reassured him, helped him to slip into work mode. He knew the grip, knew the weight, knew how it would behave. And he let the familiarity soothe him.

      Taking a deep breath, he flipped the safety off.

      The night air was still around him when he stepped out of his car, as though the weather sensed that something was about to go down. Not even a breeze whispered past. Moving quietly, he peered farther down the side of the road. That’s when he saw Addison’s car.

      The silver Audi was covered in brutal scratches. The metal of the back door had been pushed in. Her taillight was shattered. Thankfully, it appeared that she hadn’t hit any of the trees that peppered the area. But the light from the road didn’t extend far down the dip, and he couldn’t see