Chapter Thirty
Kass watched the paramedics wheel Logan out on a gurney, tears streaming down her face and drying on her skin. Barnett, Laurel, and a gang of cops were behind her. Barnett was silent and weeping, but Laurel was shrieking now, her voice high-pitched and nerve-grating as an officer cuffed her. Kass wanted to spin around and scream at her.
She wanted to shake her and yell in her face and shout, “Do you see what you did? This is your fault!”
But she didn't.
Instead, she walked towards the back of the ambulance, composing herself, trying to catch her breath. It was like being in a dream, where nothing made sense afterward, but as it was happening, it made perfect sense.
“We have to go,” one of the paramedics said to her. “Would you like to ride along?” Kass looked over at the gurney, at Logan, who was smiling at her weakly under the mask of oxygen. She reached for his hand, and he squeezed it.
“Our dog,” she said. “He—uh—the yellow lab. I can't leave him here.” She was relieved when one medic took his leash and brought him up front in the cab. Kass sighed, closing her eyes, trying to gain control of herself. She looked down at Logan. He was still smiling that smug smile.
“Sorry,” she said to him. “You can't get rid of us that easily.”
The pain was phenomenal, like having your insides ripped out slowly by the dull bones of one’s hand. Blood was everywhere, and it took Logan a moment to realize that all that blood—every fucking streak of it—was his. Not only was it all over himself, but it was all over Kass, too. She didn't seem to mind, though, as she held his hand and watched the traffic pass by out the back window. She'd been crying, near hysterics, but the tears had dried, just a little bit. He was glad for that. He hated to see her cry—when Kass cried, he wanted to cry.
There was a poke in his arm as the paramedic started an IV. Logan kept his eyes trained on Kass. She was watching the medic work, looking tense, as if expecting some horrible thing to jump out and fuck everything up suddenly. He knew she wanted to jump in and help, take control like she was so used to doing. When he squeezed her hand, she looked back over at him, forcing a smile. She was being brave for him, and he wanted nothing more than to be brave for her, too.
“I'm jealous,” she said. Her voice broke, but she composed herself quickly. Quite the girl she was. “You're getting the good drugs.”
He laughed weakly, but stopped when the pain coursed through his body. She leaned forward, resting her lips on his forehead.
“I'm sorry.”
“Sorry?” he whispered. “For what?”
“Everything.”
“Kass.” Logan squeezed her hand again, feeling dizzy, but he couldn't let her get away with thinking like that. “You're the reason I'm still here.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Kass had never been so anxious in her life. She couldn't help but feel there was one thing scarier than hearing bad news, and that was not hearing any news at all. She knew it was difficult for doctors and nurses to do their jobs and keep everybody posted on each of their patients, but she wished they would, anyway. All she wanted was an update. All she wanted was to know that he was still alive. Because if he wasn't—oh God. If he weren't alive, she would be over. Everything she had grown to care about and love would be gone, and she was certain that she could not handle that. No, she knew she couldn't.
Outside the doors to the ER, Vegas was tied to a tree, lounging in the shade as a little girl and her brother rubbed his belly. What a life it must have been for a dog—where the biggest concern they could have was who it would be next to rub their bellies and scratch their ears.
She sat back against the uncomfortable exterior of the hospital waiting-room chair, ignoring the cheap plastic driving into her back. To her left, a man with an annoying, phlegm-ridden cough was hacking, and then spitting repeatedly into a napkin. She turned her body to the right, subtly, until she was face to face with a shrieking toddler squirming in his mother's arms. She put her head in her hand and closed her eyes, wishing someone would come out and talk to her. That's all she wanted. She just wanted an update.
A nurse in pink and green scrub top appeared in front of the waiting room, holding up a chart. Kass looked forward anxiously, hoping to hear her name.
“Melissa Prescott?” the nurse asked.
The woman with the squirming kid got to her feet, relieved, and hurried across the floor to follow the nurse back. Kass took this opportunity to move to that seat, out of the way of the man's hacking. Outside the ER doors, the whine of another ambulance caught her attention, and she saw the big bus pull into the bay. Both medics jumped from the truck and pulled the gurney out, shouting something she couldn't hear to the surgeons and nurses who appeared at their side. The wail of the sirens made Kass want to cover her ears. She hated that noise—it would now be a sound she would forever hate—something simply there to remind her of the horrible day she almost (or did?) lose the man she was falling in love with.
Kass turned away, sighing, wondering briefly what would happen to Tyson Barnett if Logan died.
Death. She shuddered at the mere thought, feeling the tears pool in her eyes again. She was certain she had been cried out the moment the doctors had rushed him in for surgery, yelling over their shoulders that she needed to sit in the waiting room. She had heard nothing since, and her nerves were on edge. She couldn't even bring herself to think of the possibility that Logan might not make it out alive. To her, that wasn't an option. He would live. Well, he had to live. He had to live for her—if he left her now, it was something she didn't think she could ever get over.
“Kass Harding?”
She looked up, expecting the nurse, but a uniformed police officer stood in front of her instead. She recognized him from the hotel room.
“Yes,” she said. “That’s me.”
“Would you come with me so we can talk?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Kass said. “I’m staying with Logan.”
The cop—Jameson, his nametag read—nodded. He pulled out a pad from his pocket and took a seat in the chair next to her.
“Tyson Barnett is about to be charged with possession and dealing,” he said. “When we asked Laurel Ryder about it, she first tried to deny that she had any knowledge of this. Barnett sold her out, stated that they met because she had been buying pills from him.” The officer flipped his pad over and read something on the paper before he looked at her again. “She panicked, and confessed. She’s at the station now, we’re holding here there until the judge can rule a conviction.”
“Good,” Kass said. She felt no sympathy, no pity or hurt for the woman who has single-handedly destroyed Logan’s life. Because of her, he could still die, and Kass never wanted a woman like Laurel Ryder to walk the earth again.
“I have another question,” Officer Jameson said. “You were reported missing by your fiancé a week ago. It appeared to us as though you’d been kidnapped. What’s the story here? Did Logan Ryder force you to help him?”
Kass looked down at her hands, noticing the lightened skin around her finger where Ryan’s engagement ring had sat only days ago. Had this happened earlier, by a few days, Kass would have taken her in bringing Logan down. No hesitation, no doubt. She would have turned him in and gone home to her old life to continue living the way she had; her mediocre, controlled life under the hand of her abusive future-husband.
“No, he didn’t force me to do anything,” Kass said. She looked back up and met the officer’s eyes. “I went with Logan because I wanted to help him. I knew he was innocent.”
“So, you were never kidnapped?”
“No.”
“Okay.” Officer Jameson searched her face for a moment more, as if waiting for her to keep talking, to break and tell him that Logan Ryder was the psychotic kidnapper everyone must have assumed he was.
“I went willingly,” she said again. “And Logan has proved his innocence.
“Then that’s all I need from yo
u.” Officer Jameson said.
“Is Logan going to be alright? I mean, is he going to go back to prison?”
“That’s for the court to decide,” Jameson said. “He broke parole and assaulted Barnett with a deadly weapon. While his claim of being framed may be true, he still broke the law and must face the consequences, whatever they may be. For now, he’ll be on a temporary hospital hold until he’s well enough to be sent back to Seattle to see a judge.”
“Thank you, officer.”
He shook her hand, and they parted ways. Kass watched him leave, knowing without a doubt that she’d said the right thing. She knew better than anybody that Logan was a decent man. He wasn’t a monster, but a scorned man who’d merely wanted his revenge on Laurel. She’d been free to go the entire time. She just hadn’t wanted to.
Kass pulled out her cell phone and turned it on, wondering what Abby was doing right now. Panicking, most likely. Had the police let her know the situation? Had Ryan heard this? She realized that she didn't much care. She didn't care to see him, and she didn't care to hear from him, either.
The screen on the phone lit up, and she watched patiently as the texts, missed calls, and voicemails rolled in. Next to her, a woman who didn't look much older than she was caught sight of the incoming notifications and chuckled.
“You're popular,” she noted, and Kass forced a smile. It was the best she could do. “Are you waiting for someone?”
“I am.” She rested the phone in her lap, trying to keep her hands from shaking. “My—friend. Logan.”
“Just a friend?” The woman waggled her eyebrows, and Kass allowed a small chuckle. It was all she could muster without wanting to throw up. The unknown was killing her.
“I don't know yet,” she admitted. “It's a long story.” She looked back down at the screen, knowing that eventually, she'd have to call Abby and Ryan back home. But what would she say? How could one explain a situation like theirs?
Hey, babe, remember that night we got into a fight, and you hit me? Well, I was angry, so just to spite you I picked up a random guy and got taken hostage. He roughed me up a little bit, and now he's in the operating room with a bullet in his chest, and I'm just here to make sure he pulls through—and hopefully confess my undying love to him, as well.
“It must be bad,” the girl next to her said. “You don't look well at all. Whatever is going on, I offer my condolences.”
“Thank you,” Kass said. She knew it would have been polite to ask about the woman's situation, as well, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Her mind was on Logan. More unwelcome news would set her off, and that was the last thing she needed.
Behind them, the doors to the ER opened, and Kass glanced over her shoulder, expecting another ill patient.
“Kass?” someone said. She watched wide-eyed as Ryan and Abby came in through the front door of the ER, escorted by an officer she recognized for the scene. Abby was dressed in pajama pants and a tank top, her hair wild about her head, face makeup-free. Ryan, she noticed, looked just fine dressed in slacks and a T-shirt. He smiled when he saw her.
“Ryan?” Kass said. “Oh, my God.”
She stood from her seat, legs shaking, unsure of how to react as he crossed the floor and scooped her into his arms, squeezing her. He smelled of faint cologne and aftershave, a scent so familiar—and yet so strange to her.
“Jesus,” Ryan said. “We thought you were dead.”
“We took the first flight out,” Abby said, pushing herself between the two to get a hug in. Her eyes were bloodshot and dark circles accentuated the skin under her eyes, but she was smiling. “You've been missing, Kass,” she said. “Thank God you called me.”
“We went to the hotel where the call came from, but the cops sent us here,” Ryan said. “What in the fuck is going on, Kass?”
“Ryan, please.” She took his hand, leading him and Abby to a few empty seats in the lobby. “I've been through a lot the last few days,” she said. Her eyes flickered from Ryan to Abby, and then back again. “And it's going to be hard for you to understand.”
“You’re welcome to try and explain,” Ryan said sharply. He was angry, but Kass knew he wouldn’t hit her. Not here, in public.
“Ryan, let her talk,” Abby snapped. Kass opened her mouth again to speak, but Ryan spoke first.
“Where's your ring?”
The question caught her off guard, bringing her to a halt. Kass glanced down automatically to the bare spot on her hand the bright diamond had once been. Without thinking twice about it, she clasped her hands together, guilt tugging at her chest.
“We had to—” she faltered. “I had to—um—pawn it.”
“You had to pawn it?” Ryan repeated. “You and who?”
His tone had shot up a few notches, drawing stares from the people around them. There was a challenge in his voice, anger she had always longed to avoid.
“We needed money,” she said. “Logan and I, we needed mon—”
“Logan?” said Ryan. “Is he the guy you've been screwing since you left home?”
His comment made her feel like she'd been slapped, and she drew back, hurt. It was the truth, yes. She had had sex with Logan. And she'd enjoyed it. Suddenly, she didn't owe him shit. Two could play this game, and she was more than ready to lock horns with him. Ryan's childish fit was nothing compared to the shit she'd been through in the last few days.
“Here’s the difference, Ryan,” Kass said. “You’re a sexist, abusive asshole who can’t keep his dick in his pants or his hands to himself, and I hate you.”
Ryan's mouth snapped shut. His eyes narrowed, and he drew back as if she'd smacked him.
“I have no idea what you're talking about,” he said, but she knew him well enough to know that he was lying. He was a lousy liar. He was an asshole.
“You can’t hide it anymore,” Kass said. “Because I’m not afraid of you anymore. You’re weak, and misguided, and I was the stupid little girl who let you hurt me because she didn’t know any better. And I’m done. I’ve been done.”
Ryan said nothing, but Kass could see a hint of red creeping to his cheeks. Abby, who had been listening impatiently, looked at Ryan as though seeing him through an entirely new perspective.
“You,” she said softly, her eyes knitting together in a catlike glare. “I fucking knew it. I knew you were bad news, you pathetic asshole, and I hope I never have to see your face again.” She averted her gaze from Ryan and back to Kass, and, amazingly, her eyes narrowed even more.
“And you,” she said to Kass, her tone accusatory. “You were kidnapped, Kass. You were taken hostage, and I have no idea what’s going on right now.”
There was a moment of silence, a quiet that smothered her where she sat. Kass looked up at the officer, and then back at Ryan who was still gaping at her.
“No, I wasn't. I went with him. Willingly. And—and, we have a dog. Yeah, Ryan, we have a dog. His name's Vegas.”
“Kass, I—” He seemed flustered, furious, like he couldn’t even conjure up an appropriate reaction. Kass couldn’t blame him. Here he was, Ryan, the man she was supposed to marry, and all she could think about was Logan. Covering for Logan.
Maybe even loving him.
“You need to explain this,” Ryan said. His tone carried a hint of anger, and Kass wanted to slap him. She'd been through hell, and all she wanted him to do was leave her the fuck alone.
“Ryan, I think you should go fuc—” She stopped when she saw another figure appear in the waiting room. This one wasn't a nurse. Kass could tell. It was the surgeon who had operated on Logan. Her heart rate sped up, and she looked away from Ryan. She had nothing to explain to him. She didn't care to.
“Miss Harding?” he said.
All three turned to face the doctor, and a strange feeling of dread and pain engulfed her as she stood up and steadied herself on a lobby-room chair.
“Kass?” said Abby. “What's going on?”
Kass couldn't answer, and she feared her leg
s would give out as she crossed the room, not bothering to glance back at Ryan. She tried to read the surgeon's expression, tried to decipher the tone his voice held as he rested a hand on her shoulder. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. The doctor met her gaze.
“He's asking for you.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
The pain had faded, though not by much. He was still sore, still hurting—but he was alive. That was the greatest thing in the world for him to feel—the fact that he was still alive meant one thing: he could be with Kass. There was no longer anything that could keep him from her.
She was a welcome sight when she came into the room, especially since the only thing he’d had to stare at for the last half hour was the cop posted outside his door. Kass’s face was terrified, like she would find the wrong patient lying on the bed waiting for her, and he would be dead in the next room over. When she saw him, her mouth dropped open and her eyes filled with tears. This time, he hoped, they were tears of happiness. He'd seen her endure enough pain since he'd know her, and he wanted nothing more than to see her smile.
“Hey,” he said. His voice was raw and scratchy. He sounded—and probably looked—like death warmed over. But he didn't care. She was there; she’d stayed by his side. She wanted him as much as he wanted her, after everything they’d been through.
Logan cleared his throat and raised one hand to her. Kass approached the bed and sat down, wiping the tears from her face. She was smiling. Such a beautiful, wonderful, heart-stopping smile.
“I thought for sure you'd—” she trailed off, looking pained, and he squeezed her fingertips in his.
“I'm not,” he said. He hurt all over, but seeing her face made everything better. He couldn't bear not talking to her. In a moment like this, he needed her. “I'm right here,” he said. “I'm not going anywhere, thanks to you.”
Kass rested her head on his bed, careful to avoid the spot on his abdomen that had been operated on--the place the bullet had pierced and nearly killed him.
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