He tried to forget the way Maddie had pressed against him, the feel of her hands at his back.
He tried to pretend like every single thing in his life wasn’t changing. But Logan was smarter than anyone knew. Which meant that Logan knew that nothing in his life was ever going to be the same again.
“We have a gun,” he whispered.
“Calm down, city boy. We have a flare gun, in case you didn’t notice.”
Logan hadn’t noticed, but he wasn’t as disappointed as he should have been. Right then, the gun part was the only part that mattered.
But Maddie wasn’t so sure. “This means one shot. One shot means we have to be smart about it.”
“Maddie—”
“Listen to me, Logan. Listen now. You have to do what I tell you. When I say something you can’t ask what. You can’t ask why. You can’t argue. And for the love of all that is holy, you cannot try some stupid macho move that is only going to get us both killed. Okay? You have to listen to me.”
“Okay,” he said, partly to make her stop talking. Stefan was close, and even though it was dark and the sleet was falling harder, it was so quiet out there that even a whisper seemed to echo for an hour.
“No. Logan, listen to me. You have to do exactly what I say exactly when I say it. Promise me.”
“I promise,” he said, and she nodded like maybe—just maybe—she might be in the mood to believe him.
She put her head down and kept trudging through the storm, and for a moment Logan thought that maybe everything was going to be okay, but then Maddie stumbled to a stop. When she spun, there was terror in her eyes.
“No!” she screamed.
Behind them, Stefan kept walking. He nudged her forward. “We do not stop here.”
But Maddie was shaking her head, shouting, “I know where you’re taking us.”
“You know what I need you to know.”
“I know that map is about twenty years out of date.” She pointed at the folded pieces of plastic-covered paper sticking out from the pocket of his pack.
“Walk,” he ordered.
“No.”
“Mad—” Logan tried, but she pulled away from him and kept glaring up at Stefan, a look of rage—or maybe fear—in her eyes.
“If you think we’re going to cross it, you’re crazy. Or you have a death wish. Or both.”
“Mad?” Logan had no idea what she was talking about, but Maddie was too frantic to fill him in.
“You’re crazy!” she shouted. “We should go to Black Bear Bridge. I mean, it’s not a bridge made of black bears, don’t worry. But it’s about twenty years newer and a hundred times safer—and if you haven’t already noticed, we’re not exactly dealing with ideal conditions here.”
“What are you talking about?” Logan snapped. He was hungry and he was cold and frustration was coming off of him in waves.
But Maddie kept her gaze locked on Stefan. “Look, I know you don’t care about me. And you probably don’t even care about yourself. I get that. But you care about him.” She pointed at Logan. “And he’s not going to do you any good if he’s at the bottom of a hundred-foot ravine, smashed into about a million little icy pieces.” That part at least seemed to hit its mark. “I don’t want to die. And you need him alive. So please. Let’s just go to Black Bear Bridge.”
Logan watched Stefan consider this. “How far is this Black Bear Bridge?” the Russian asked.
“It’s not too far.”
“How far?” Stefan snapped.
Maddie couldn’t meet his gaze. “It’s only a half day’s walk.”
“A half day’s walk?” Stefan asked. “Under good conditions?”
Maddie had to nod.
“We go my way,” Stefan said, and pushed forward.
“Let her go back,” Logan was still pleading with Stefan ten minutes later. “It’ll take her a day to walk back to her cabin, and you and I will be long gone by then, won’t we? I mean, that’s why we can’t go to this other bridge, right? Because we’re on a deadline here? Then let her go. You don’t need her.”
“Yes. I do.”
Some faces just weren’t supposed to smile. Stefan’s was one of them, Maddie decided. Because when he grinned at Logan’s words, it had an eerie effect, like he was ten moves away from checkmate and he was the only one who could see it. It made Maddie’s heart pound harder, her hands want to shake. She wanted to reach for her own rock and take her chances, but that wasn’t the smart play.
And they were currently in the middle of almost twenty million acres of wilderness with heavy precipitation and falling temperatures and absolutely no help on the way.
They didn’t have time for stupid.
But that didn’t wipe the smile from Stefan’s face. It didn’t dampen the fire that was burning inside of Logan.
“What’s so funny?” Logan snapped. “Just let her go!”
It might have been sweet. Or heroic. Or even romantic—if Stefan hadn’t taken a few more steps and then turned on them. The hill was tall and steep. Landslides and glaciers had scraped away huge chunks where no trees grew and the snow and the rain didn’t stick. A river ran beneath them, curving through the forest like a snake. Freezing rain kept falling and the water down below was from the melting glaciers, which meant even in the middle of summer it was cold.
In good conditions, with the right gear, a person could climb down there. Maybe wade across if he had a death wish. But that would take time … and time was one of many things they didn’t have.
And that’s what brought them here—to a tenuous lifeline that ran between this hill and the next. Even in the darkness and the sleet it practically glowed, probably because it was covered with ice and looked like something that a Disney princess might have summoned and built with her two hands. In the remaining traces of light it practically glistened, shining like crystals. But Maddie knew what lay underneath.
Ropes ran across the gorge. Wooden planks had once been placed at regular intervals, spanning the two hundred feet of the bridge. But there had been too much rain, too much snow. Too many hot summer days and strong mountain winds in the twenty or so years since anyone stopped caring. No one ever came here. No one who did come here would forget that there was another, safer bridge not too terribly far away.
No one would be stupid enough to cross.
“I need your girlfriend, President’s Son,” Stefan said. “I need her to go across that bridge and show us how safe it is.”
Safe wasn’t a word that had been used to describe it in over a decade. Maybe longer. Long before she and her father had moved to Alaska. She had heard about this bridge, about how the parks department meant to come tear it down every summer, but with cutbacks and budget freezes it got delayed every year. Besides, it’s not like anyone ever came here. It’s not like anyone would ever be stupid enough—desperate enough—to try to cross it.
“She’s not going across that,” Logan said. He positioned his large body in between Maddie and Stefan.
“Logan?” Maddie’s voice was smaller than it should have been.
“She’s not doing it! She’s not some kind of puppet. She’s—”
“Logan?” Maddie tried again, but he was staring daggers into Stefan.
“We need you alive,” Stefan reminded Logan. “So the girl can go or the girl can die here.”
Stefan pulled his gun from his waistband and pointed it in Maddie’s direction, but Logan was already shielding her.
Like he cared.
He just hadn’t cared enough to write.
“Move,” Stefan ordered.
“Logan?”
“You’re not going to hurt her!” Logan shouted.
But Maddie just threw up her hands. “Boys!”
Logan seemed to remember exactly who was behind him. That she was a real person with a voice and opinions. She wasn’t some ideal.
“Logan, listen to me.” She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close. Luckily Stefan had never retied her hands
, so she was able to wrap her arms around him, feel him one more time.
“I’ll be okay,” she said.
“No, Mad. You can’t do this.”
But that was exactly the wrong thing to say because she pulled back. She actually cocked an eyebrow. “Watch me.”
Logan wasn’t willing to let her go. He took her arm. “No, Mad. I’m not going to let you.”
“You’re not letting me,” she said, but when Logan dragged her closer she didn’t fight. She didn’t squirm or scream or push him away. No. That might have tipped Stefan off to exactly how formidable she was.
Yes. Exactly. That had to be why Maddie didn’t resist at all when Logan pulled her body right up against his and said, “I’m not going to lose you again.”
He even sounded like he meant it.
He looked into her eyes. “That’s not a bridge, Mad Dog. It’s suicide.”
“Do you trust me?” Maddie asked.
“Hurry up!” Stefan yelled.
“Logan, do you trust me?” she asked again, urgent now. Time was running out. In a lot of ways.
And Logan nodded.
So Maddie went up on her tiptoes and pressed a warm kiss to Logan’s cold cheek.
Then she whispered in his ear, “Step exactly where I step. And be ready.”
She could see the question in his eyes: Ready for what? But he was at least smart enough not to say it aloud. Instead, he seemed to hold his breath.
And watch.
The ground at the mouth of the bridge was flat and wide and, by that point, covered with at least an inch of ice and snow. It actually crunched beneath Maddie’s feet, tiny ice pellets grinding into almost nothing, pressing hard against the ground and getting slicker with every moment. Surely that was why she took a huge step, an awkward lunging jump that seemed to bypass as much of that space in front of the bridge as possible. But she was steady and sure on her feet as she eased toward the posts that stuck up from the ground. She reached out for them and pulled, relieved when they didn’t wiggle. Then she gave one last look back.
“Logan?”
“You don’t have to do it, Mad Dog,” he said again, but she shook her head.
“Did you get my letters?” Maybe she was a fool for stepping out onto that bridge, but she couldn’t do it without knowing. Once and for all.
He shook his head. “What letters?”
And then it was Maddie’s turn to smile, but it was one without joy.
“I’ll see you on the other side,” she said.
When Maddie took a step, the first board was so slick that she actually skidded. There wasn’t any traction, and Maddie had to grip the braces at the mouth of the bridge to steady herself. She almost fell to her knees.
“Maddie!” Logan yelled and lunged forward, but she looked back and shook him off.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Just … exactly.” She mouthed the last word and stared into his eyes, willing him to hear her, see her. Believe her, knowing that for the first time in her life someone needed to follow in her footsteps.
When she was steady on her feet again, she tried the next board. And the next.
The third one creaked, but it seemed steady enough, so Maddie risked shifting her weight, only to have it splinter beneath her. But her hold on the rope handles held.
The old rope was freezing. As she moved her hand, ice slid off of the coarse bristles and bit into her cold skin. She was like a tiny, one-woman snowplow, clearing the way.
One step. Then another. Some of the boards were missing. Others hung at odd angles, and with the ice she didn’t trust herself not to slip and fall. Only once did she have to jump, but Maddie was part goat, her father always said, and she landed lightly on the other side.
She risked a glance back at Logan.
“It’s solid,” she yelled. She might have even meant it.
But Logan was shaking his head. “Maddie, come back.”
“Keep going!” Stefan shouted. His gun was out and pointed at Logan’s back.
“Logan, come on,” Maddie called to him.
“Mad—”
“Logan, you have to trust me. Please.”
Maybe it was the please that did it. But he took one last look at Stefan, then moved toward the bridge.
Dear Logan,
Forgive me for not writing for several days. You see, I’ve been extremely busy with my new, oh-so-exciting life. See?
Things to do in Alaska:
-chop wood
-catch fish
-clean fish
-haul wood
-catch some more fish
-try not to get eaten, smashed, burned, poisoned, or just, in general, die
Seriously, trying not to die in Alaska is kind of a full-time job.
Maddie
Logan stared at where Maddie stood, in the center of a bridge that looked like it should have already fallen based on the weight of the snow and the ice alone. Much less with Maddie’s weight. Much less with his.
“Logan, it’s okay!” she called to him. “Just do what I said.”
He heard her words again: From this moment on, step exactly where I step.
There were things the Secret Service agents had to teach him, back when he was a kid and his dad was just a candidate—back when no one assumed they knew him. Back when Maddie really did.
The first lesson they teach a protectee is that, if an agent says duck, you duck. If an agent says run, you run. You don’t stop for questions. You never, ever say What? Because in the time it takes you to stop and say that single word, a sniper can strike from a thousand yards away. It’s the protectee’s job to follow directions and then get out of the way and let the professionals do their jobs.
Maybe it was that training coming back to him. Or maybe it was the look in Maddie’s eyes when she asked Logan to trust her. Logan swore right then that he never wanted to disappoint Maddie ever again. He owed her that much at least. He was going to mirror her movements exactly, even if he was at least fifty pounds heavier than she was. In the part of his brain that was always thinking, analyzing, calculating, Logan knew that just because a board was strong enough to hold her there was no guarantee that it would be strong enough to hold him. But it was as good a place as any to start.
He inched toward the bridge and paused to look down at the icy ground in front of him. It had been blowing and swirling all day and something like a drift covered the mouth of the bridge. But it wasn’t so deep he had to wade.
“Remember! Be careful,” she shouted. And something in Logan knew—just knew—that it was the remember that mattered.
Be ready, she’d said.
But ready for what?
There was only one way to find out.
Logan’s footprints dwarfed Maddie’s as he stepped into her tracks and moved slowly toward the bridge.
He could still feel Stefan behind him, on Logan’s right, where he had an angle on both of his captives. He kept the gun trained on Logan as he matched Maddie’s big step onto the mouth of the bridge, mirroring her in every way. But his hands were still cuffed in front of him, and he could only hang on to one side.
When he slipped on a slick board it was harder than it should have been to catch himself. His body kept twisting at the waist to grip the rope handles and he couldn’t get centered.
When Logan slipped again, he risked a glance at Stefan, a smirk. “Bet you’re wishing you hadn’t thrown away that handcuff key about now, aren’t you?” he asked.
“Walk!” Stefan ordered, and Logan forced himself to turn around.
Maddie was still inching closer to the other side, but she turned to him and nodded slowly, the universal signal for it’s time.
So, slowly, Logan reached into his pocket for the key Stefan had thrown away that morning. In the darkness, Stefan couldn’t see well enough to know what Logan was doing when he unhooked the left wrist cuff but kept his hands together.
With a glance back, he could see that Stefan had put away his gun and was ap
proaching the bridge himself.
Maybe it was because he was coming from a slightly different angle. Maybe it was because he didn’t think he had to listen to a teenage girl. Or maybe it was common sense for him to step right up to the edge, to the place where bridge met land. To the place where the snow was a little bit thicker.
To the place that Maddie—and then Logan—had jumped right over.
Stefan stepped into the deep snow and immediately his foot disappeared.
For a moment nothing happened.
And then Logan heard the snap.
The yell.
A moment later Stefan was falling over and digging at the snow and ice, pulling at his leg. But it wasn’t just his leg.
Something clung to Stefan’s dark jeans, like an animal that had locked its jaws around his calf and was hanging on for dear life. But it wasn’t an animal, Logan realized.
No. In that moment Stefan was the animal, as he pried the metal jaws apart and pulled his leg free of the trap.
“Logan, run!” Maddie yelled, and Logan realized that she’d already made it to the far side of the bridge.
This was her plan.
This was their chance.
But Stefan had already pried the trap off his leg and tossed it into the abyss below. Hate and rage radiated from him.
They didn’t have a moment to lose.
Stefan must have been so angry that he ignored Maddie’s footsteps and started to run. As soon as his big foot landed on the first rung of the bridge, the board snapped. The bridge jerked beneath Logan’s feet as Stefan grabbed at the ropes and lunged forward. The next board snapped, too, and Logan knew it was no accident.
He thought about the small knife that Stefan had taken from Maddie, and just like that he knew. Maddie had come here. Maddie had done this.
He had to get to Maddie.
Now.
Stefan’s strong arm was wrapped around the icy ropes of the bridge. His good leg dangled down between the broken slats. There was too much pressure on the leg that had been in the trap. When he screamed, it sounded like a bear had been caught in Maddie’s trap instead of a man.
And Logan didn’t dare stick around to see if his bite was as bad as his growl.