Edge of Forever: Rockstar Romantic Suspense

by Cari Quinn

  “I’ll find Nichole’s parents.”

  “They’re in with Adam, sir.”

  Jacob nodded. “Thanks.” He turned his steady gray eyes on Logan. “Anything I can do?”

  “No, we’re just waiting.”

  Jacob clamped his hand on Logan’s shoulder. “Bella’s a fighter. Don’t count her out, son.”

  “No, sir.”

  “Good. I’ll check back in before I leave.”

  Logan swallowed back the emotions that kept rolling up like feedback in a loop. Each time it got louder. And if he didn’t get his shit under control, he was going to blow.

  As Jacob left, the rest of his band arrived. The concerned faces and hushed whispers between Zeke and Christian echoed in the hallway.

  “Is he okay?”

  “Is Bella okay?”

  “Do they know what happened?”

  Logan surged to his feet. Emerson tried to catch his arm, but he couldn’t be around all these people. Not now. Not and stay sane. He held up his hand and made a left, down another hallway.

  The lights were blinding and the staff were bustling between rooms. Under it all was the pervasive scent of medicine and steady compression of air machines harmonizing with different frequencies of monitors.

  It climbed into his head creating a playlist that he couldn’t change. He just needed quiet. Just for a minute.

  A door swung open and a woman in scrubs and full uniform of booties and mask stopped and stared. “You can’t be back here.”

  “I was looking for somewhere quiet.” He fisted his hands. “I just—”

  The woman sighed, then tipped her head as recognition lit her eyes. “Oh, boy.” She looked over her shoulder and seemed to be warring with herself over something then started stripping off her mask and gloves.

  Logan stood still as possible. No. This wasn’t happening. He couldn’t do the fan thing. He opened his mouth, but she shook her head.

  “Follow me.”

  Because he couldn’t wrap his brain around any decisions right at that second, he did just that. She took a left, then a right and finally they ended up back in the main waiting room.

  “Look, I appreciate the handholding here, but I needed to get away from those people.”

  “I know. Have a little faith.”

  He wasn’t sure that word was anywhere in his heart right now. But instead of the huge waiting area, she pushed him near the elevators and finally to a room marked with a symbol he vaguely recognized.

  “Okay. This should help.”

  The room was full of chairs in different sizes and a frosted glass panel etched with an intricate tree. He wasn’t exactly religious, but the calming quiet of the room washed over him.

  She put her hand over his arm. “I won’t let anyone disturb you, Mr. King.”

  The slice of kindness knocked the last of his resistance out from under him. He pressed a kiss on her forehead and swallowed back the sob soaking his lungs and chest.

  “I’ll let the nurse know you’re in here.”

  He dropped into the U-shaped chair, his fingers digging into the fabric as he lowered his head. The inoffensive beige carpeting blurred as the fear sideswiped him. He covered his mouth to block the sob, but it wouldn’t be contained.

  Nichole’s face, the horrifying angle of her shoulders under the bookcase, the breath-stealing fire. Glass and wood splintered as if a Grizzly Bear-sized five-year-old had thrown an epic tantrum.

  The counter-sized hole gaping out of her windows. Izzy crumpled and pinned under the one thing that may have saved her life.

  The relief that Izzy had been spared.

  Fear that fate was going to take her away anyway.

  He bowed his head and covered the back of his head with shaking fingers. He dug into his neck and shoulder muscles until the pain chased back the fear. Until he could breathe again.

  Until he could shore up his reserves again.

  He couldn’t lose her.

  He wouldn’t survive it.

  Three

  She hurt.

  Worse than when she’d broken her arm in tenth grade.

  Worse than the emergency appendectomy in college.

  God, she never thought anything could top that.

  But this did.

  Darkness frayed at the edges of the shrieking red pain.

  She welcomed it.

  She chased it.

  She curled it around her shoulders like a wool shawl.

  Let it take her.

  Four

  Logan escaped into the men’s room and dunked his head into the sink, letting icy water rush over his neck and face. He washed away the weakness and shame clawing at his brain.

  This wasn’t about him.

  He needed to get his shit together for her. She needed him to get through this.

  Because she was going to make it through surgery.

  He simply wouldn’t accept another option.

  A shower would have helped, but that would wait. He swiped away the worst of the leftover soot and blood that he’d missed on the first round. Some of it was his own. Glass shards were embedded in his collar and cuffs.

  Christ, it had been everywhere.

  He rolled his neck and took stock of his battle-worn face. At least he didn’t look like a lunatic anymore. And appearances were all he had right then.

  You can do this.

  You have to do this.

  He opened the door and Zeke pounced.

  “Lo, where the hell have you been?”

  “Just had to walk it off before I split someone’s lip.”

  Zeke shook his head. “As long as it wasn’t mine.”

  “It was a close thing.”

  His best friend flashed a dimpled smile. “Nah, you wouldn’t hit me. It’s like beating a puppy.”

  Because it was true, Logan gave him a halfhearted smile. “The nurse said she’d find me if there was any word.”

  “None so far. The woman behind the glass threatened to stick one of her pens in my hand—though I’m pretty sure she meant another place—if I didn’t stop asking her if she had any updates.”

  Logan sighed. He knew she hadn’t been in surgery that long. But the longer the surgery, the more he could feel the icy edges of panic trying to take hold. That meant complications. Complications meant that he could still lose her.

  No.

  Not going there.

  She was too strong to die. She was too stubborn to die.

  He tugged at his collar as they walked back to the waiting room. More people had shown up. “Hey, you think you could send someone down to the gift shop for a t-shirt? Mine is full of glass.”

  “Yeah, I’ll take care of it.”

  “Thanks, man.” Logan slapped Zeke’s arm as he moved into the crowd of people.

  Sam and Dee Valentine quickly stood. They both were bandaged and had matching red-rimmed eyes.

  “Hey. You guys okay?”

  Sam nodded. “Tried to help the firemen by soaking down the surrounding buildings. It’s been dry.”

  Logan closed his eyes. “Did anyone else get hurt?”

  “Three people got trampled from the crowds, and two firemen were killed. There might be more, but it’s just chaos.”

  Logan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Have you talked to Nic’s parents?”

  Dee curled her fingers around Sam’s forearm. “They’re not doing well.”

  He should go down to talk to them, but he had no idea what to say. I’m sorry my psycho ex-girlfriend blew up your daughter’s store.

  What in the fuck.

  “Any word on Adam?”

  Sam sighed. “Still hasn’t woken up. He got hit with the initial blast. They think it was his skull hitting pavement that did the most damage.”

  “Jesus.”

  Dee’s blue eyes were hollow and a little shell-shocked. “How’s Bella?”

  “Still in surgery. They haven’t told me anything.”

  Sam hugged Dee tighter. “We’re
praying for her. Anything you need, just let us know. Food—whatever.”

  “I…” Logan cleared his throat. “I don’t even know what to say.”

  “There’s nothing to say. The firemen controlled the flames enough that no other businesses were harmed, and that’s what matters.”

  “Small victories.”

  Sam lightly slapped Logan’s arm. “They’re all we can concentrate on.”

  “Thanks for coming up to check on her. I’ll check in when I know something.”

  “Good. Thanks.” Dee stepped into Logan’s space and wrapped her arms around his middle. “You take care of our girl for us.”

  He dropped a kiss on top of her head. “I will.” He spotted Marcus Roth over her head. “Excuse me?”

  They both nodded and waved as they headed down the hall.

  “Marcus. Give me something, man.”

  “Sarah tried to check herself out of her damn room. She’s ready to come up here and guard over Bella’s freaking surgical room, for God’s sake.”

  “You didn’t let her, right?”

  “In theory, I’m her boss. I’m not sure she’s aware of the whole boss/employee relationship.”

  “In other words, she’ll be up here as soon as humanly possible?”

  Marcus snorted. “She’s not human.”

  “She’s all right?”

  “Banged up. Busted rib and concussion. All things considered, she’s not doing too badly. What’s the deal with Bella?”

  “Still in surgery.” He was getting damn tired of saying that.

  “I figured as much. I talked to the police, so that’s one less thing for you to deal with. I explained our situation so far. They want us to go in and talk to them as soon as possible.”

  “I need guards on her door, Marcus. There’s no way that explosion at Between the Lines was an accident.”

  “So far, they’re saying it is.”

  “What?”

  Marcus nodded. “They’re saying faulty wiring - old brownstone yada yada.”

  “You know that’s not it. I know Izzy. That place was up to code or better. She’d never chance it with her inventory.”

  “I know that. But it’s still an old building. Even if she was up to code, something could have gone wrong.”

  “You know that’s bullshit.”

  “Logan.” Marcus lowered his voice.

  “It was her. You fucking know it was her.”

  “I have nothing to go on. She was very spectacularly in a different part of the country.”

  Logan frowned. “What does that mean?”

  “She was at some premiere with that hockey player. And it was a media circus. She was at the bloody center of it.”

  Logan’s eyebrow winged up. He didn’t know Marcus had an accent. “Do I even want to know?”

  “Her alibi is airtight. The premiere was in London.”

  “She never gets her hands dirty.”

  Zeke came over to stand by him. “Easy, tiger. You’re starting to attract attention. And not just the Nosy Nellys in the room. The staff too.”

  Logan’s hands shook at his sides. “I know it was her. This is exactly what she said she’d do. A lot more goddamn extreme than I ever thought she would do, but it’s her.”

  Marcus held up a hand. “I’m not saying it’s not. What I’m saying is I don’t have an angle to play yet. But I already have two bodyguards with me to keep her safe around the clock.”

  His shoulders eased. “Good.”

  “You good? You look like hell, Logan.”

  “I’ll be better when I know what the hell’s going on.”

  Marcus met his gaze, his dark eyes unwavering. “We’ll keep her safe.”

  Wasn’t that what he was supposed to do before? But he bit back that comment because it wasn’t anyone’s fault but his own. He’d grown complacent. He’d believed he could have a life.

  And now Izzy was paying the price.

  Again.

  “Mr. King?”

  Logan pushed by Marcus. “I’m Mr. King.” Shock hit him low as the woman that showed him to the chapel stood in front of him. She’d been in the room with Izzy when he ran into her.

  No wonder she’d looked at him with shock.

  She held her hand out. “I’m Dr. Marra.”

  “You stopped and…”

  “I was one of two surgeons working on Ms. Grace.”

  “Oh.” Logan sucked in a breath. “Two surgeons?”

  “She had extensive internal injuries. We were able to repair most of the wounds and get her stable. We had to remove her spleen and her liver was badly lacerated by the debris from the explosion. She also has a few cracked ribs.”

  A liver was not an optional organ. Logan swallowed. “What does that mean?”

  “It means she’s one lucky woman. From what I was told, she was behind a structure when the blast hit. It did a lot of damage to her, but it also protected her from the brunt of the fire. She has some burns, but they don’t require the burn unit.”

  He tried to find some spit in his mouth so he could talk. Hearing the laundry list of injuries was almost as bad as the reasons to be thankful. “Is she okay—otherwise, I mean?”

  “I’ll feel better when she comes out of anesthesia. We did scans and she doesn’t appear to have any brain injuries, but she was hit pretty hard.”

  He nodded. “Can I see her?”

  “We’re going to move her the ICU, and after that you can see her. But only for a few minutes.”

  “Thank you.”

  She gave him a tight smile. Just as she was turning around, Logan touched her arm. “Doctor?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m sorry to have to make things more difficult, but I’ve got a bodyguard detail that has to be in her room. We’ll make sure they’re as unobtrusive as possible.”

  “A bodyguard?” Dr. Marra’s empathetic blue eyes turned wary.

  “This situation is more than an accident, I’m afraid.”

  “Intentional?”

  “I know you recognized me. Unfortunately with fame comes a lot of other not-so-nice side benefits. I have an unstable woman that has been targeting us.”

  “Oh, God. All right. We’ll try to work around your guard.”

  “Thank you.” He turned and waved Marcus over. “This is Marcus Roth. He’ll give you names and you can tell him where to send his people.”

  Marcus held out his hand and they shook. “Dr. Marra. I only need a few minutes of your time.”

  Logan wandered over with the band. He’d known the injuries were bad, but not so extensive. Her liver. God, so much blood. He shook his head to dispel the memories of her in that trauma room. Those would haunt him every time he closed his freaking eyes.

  Christian stood up. “A T-shirt, like you asked.”

  He took it with a grateful smile and unbuttoned the disaster show that he was wearing. He shucked it and started pulling the other one down when the doctor came up behind him.

  “You need to come with me.”

  Logan looked over his shoulder, panic stealing his breath. “Is it Izzy?”

  “No. You need to be checked over.”

  “I’m fine.” Logan shook his head, his heart skittering back from overload to normal. “It’s fine. Just scrapes.”

  “Tell that to the ten-inch gash on your back. Can’t you feel that?”

  “Jesus, Lo,” Zeke said.

  “I probably got it when that guy helped me lift the counter off her.” Logan pulled the shirt off and reached behind him, but his hands were slapped away.

  “All right, tough guy. Come back with me. You’ll be waiting forever downstairs.”

  “Don’t you have patients?”

  “The worst of the traumas are over. Now it’s just routine surgeries. They can hold for the five minutes it’ll take to disinfect and bandage you.”

  He sighed. It was better to get it over with than listen to all the grief he would get. And he didn’t want to stand around the damn w
aiting room without a shirt. He followed her through the swinging doors to the hallway where he’d first met her. “Thanks, doctor.”

  She nodded. “Seems that I get to be the hero today. Finding a hiding spot and now butterfly bandages for the rockstar.”

  “Saving Izzy is the only one that matters. I can’t thank you enough.”

  “She’s a fighter.”

  Logan stopped her. “Honestly, Doc. Tell me—is she going to be okay?”

  “I wasn’t lying when I said I reserve judgment until she wakes up, but I’m optimistic.” She nodded to a little room. “In there, please.”

  There was a small desk and office chair as well as a backless stool.

  “Have a seat.”

  He pulled the seat between his legs and sat down. Everything inside of him screamed for mercy. He didn’t remember dead lifting debris to get her, but the gashes on his hands and arm told the tale. As did the muscles that were protesting every movement.

  Now that the adrenaline had leeched from his body, he felt every ache. He hissed as she dabbed his back with something.

  “Sorry, most of my patients are unconscious.”

  He bit back a low groan. Was his flesh sizzling? “Yeah. Just get it done.”

  “This would have been serious by morning. Did you know all it takes is a little staph infection to put you down?”

  “I honestly didn’t notice.”

  “That’s the adrenaline talking. And probably not very loudly anymore. I have to get some debris out.”

  “Do what you gotta do.” Logan hunched his shoulders forward. “I just need to see her. And make sure that the guard is set up.”

  “Should I worry about my staff?”

  “Yesterday I would have said no. Today, I just don’t know. She’s never done anything like this before.”

  “A fan did all of this?”

  He tensed as she pulled his skin closed with tape. “No. She’s an ex.”

  “Wife?”

  “God, no.”

  “I take it she didn’t take the break up well.”

  “You could say that.”

  She dabbed on some sort of ointment and his tight skin eased. A thick pad of gauze was next and then some tape. “All set.”

  He stood and untucked the shirt from his back pocket and eased it over his head. “Now, where can I find Izzy?”