Edge of Forever

by Taryn Elliott

  Before he could think too hard on it, he texted Marcus. He’d pulled Izzy’s entire background and he’d remembered their names in the file.

  “I gotta make a call. I wouldn’t hate it if you stayed with her.”

  Sarah nodded. “Consider it done.”

  A few seconds later a phone number came through. He doublechecked that Felix would be going with Izzy every step of the way and made a pit stop in the men’s room. He looked like warmed over dog shit.

  Seemed fitting.

  After cleaning up a little and taking care of other more pressing matters, he took the long walk down the hall toward the windows. He pulled out his phone and dialed.

  Hell, he didn’t even know what time it was.

  “Grace residence.” The voice clipped and definitely New England.

  “I’m looking for Anna or Richard Grace?”

  “This is Mrs. Grace.”

  The few times Izzy had talked of her parents, it had been full of censure and aloofness. With just two sentences, he felt it. They both seemed to have less than amazing family backgrounds so they tended to talk of other things.

  His father the conman who’d steal from his own kid and his dead mother. Her cold and rigid parents, that cared only about appearances. They were a real pair in the family department.

  “Yes. This is Logan King.” Crap, he wasn’t even sure she’d told her parents about him. How fucked up was that?

  “What can I do for you, Mr. King?” Her voice became even cooler if that was at all possible.

  “I’m not sure if you’re aware of the accident that happened in Winchester Falls.”

  “We are. We’ve been monitoring Isabella’s progress with the hospital.”

  Logan bowed his head and dug his fingertips into his neck. Fuck, that was cold. “I was just calling to let you know she’s okay. Things have been pretty crazy here.”

  “We appreciate the call. Is there anything else?”

  “Do you know who I am?”

  “Yes, Mr. King. My daughter is having an unfortunate relationship with you.”

  “Unfortunate? I’m marrying your daughter.” His spine snapped straight.

  “As I said, unfortunate. But Isabella does as she pleases, and always has. A musician is not the correct status statement for her social standing.”

  “Social—” Shocked into silence, Logan took a breath. “I didn’t know there was an academic pedigree she’d been lacking.”

  “We’ve come to an understanding over the years. I’m relieved that she is recuperating.”

  Stunned, Logan took the phone away from his ear and looked down at it before returning it to his ear. “You are aware that her best friend and business partner died in the explosion.”

  “Yes.”

  For the first time, Logan heard a note of actual humanity in her voice.

  “Isabella is welcome here to convalesce if you need a place for her.”

  “No, I’ll take care of her.”

  “Very well then. Thank you for calling.”

  Anger surged into his voice. “Mrs. Grace. Your daughter will be out of reach for the near future.”

  “I see. I hope she’ll let us know where she ends up. You may not understand our relationship, Mr. King, but we do keep in contact.”

  Why, he couldn’t fathom it. The fact that Izzy was the warm, generous woman she was seemed even more of a miracle now. And he would make sure she stayed that way. Even with the loss of the one friend who had showed her that not all families were like her own, Isabella would know she was loved.

  He was her family.

  And no one would take that away.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Logan spent the rest of the day doing paperwork, praying for a new set of eyeballs, and snarling at anyone that got near him. Tired wasn’t even a word for what he was. It was sheer force of will that he was even upright.

  Izzy had been moved to a private room in a new wing of the hospital. They’d sedated her heavily to move her, and she would be out for at least the better part of the day. It was a suite they used for the maternity ward, but it was available and he didn’t care what it cost to put her there.

  As soon as was humanly possible, he’d have her at the house with a nurse. But right now, she was still being monitored for the liver puncture. A steady diet of platelets was the easiest way to do that. It felt very passive to him.

  He was learning that the body was an ever mysterious thing. As essential as the liver was, it was also the toughest organ. Dr. Marra answered his texts when she could. Said it was easier than having him page her every twenty minutes with a question.

  He knew he was being a pain in the ass. Even sitting on top of entitled asshole hill with a damn crown and scepter. But the only thing that mattered was getting her through this.

  Adam still wasn’t conscious and his parents had barred Logan from visiting. It was obvious they hated him—with good reason. He’d stolen their daughter-in-law and now their son was hurt as well. Nic’s parents, the Wesley’s, had cut off all communication. He’d only met them a handful of times. They lived on the outskirts of Winchester Falls and were both retired middle grade teachers.

  About as far removed from Izzy’s academic parents as was possible and still in the same field. Funny how the world worked.

  The Wolfes and the Wesleys had banded together to close him out and he couldn’t blame them. He’d been a raging bear since Isabella had been hurt. If she… He swallowed. There was no way he could even think about it, let alone say it out loud. No, he definitely couldn’t blame them for hating him.

  He just hoped Izzy didn’t feel the same way when she found out about Nichole. He knew she loved him, but Nichole had been her closest friend—her sister, for all intents and purposes.

  Part of him screamed to take her away and lie through his goddamn teeth. Take her to the Swiss Alps in the most remote corner of the world where there was no internet or phone. To let her get better before she had to grieve.

  But the part that Izzy had revived in him, the one that started to believe in people again—that part wouldn’t allow him to do that. She believed in him enough to love him, he had to believe she could deal with this.

  He had to believe they were strong enough to deal with this.

  His phone buzzed in his hand. Logan sighed and flipped it up to see Marcus’s name. The ignore button taunted him.

  He couldn’t deal with another piece of bad news and it was pretty much a fifty-fifty crapshoot when Marcus was on the other end of the line.

  “King.”

  “You’re not near anything smashable, are you?”

  Logan turned toward the window and pressed his forehead to the glass. “I knew I should have hit ignore.”

  “Yeah, you probably should have.”

  “Fucking fabulous. What now?”

  “Preliminary reports from the arson investigator point toward faulty wiring. Good news for Bella’s insurance payout, bad news for us. I have nothing to tie this with Aimee.”

  Logan slammed the side of his hand into the wall. The steel-reinforced frame sent a shockwave of pain through his bones and skin. But that was the only thing that pushed back the haze of anger.

  “Logan.”

  Marcus’s voice was a vague impression as his body shut down. Blood roared in his head and breath-stealing pain came down like an anvil.

  Logan felt the hands digging into his armpits and someone pushed him into a chair. Whomever it was took his phone. He leaned forward and put his head between his knees as nausea followed the pain.

  “Oh, shit.”

  Zeke’s voice. He told Marcus that he’d call him back then crouched next to him.

  “Logan.”

  “I’m good.” He swallowed back the bile that threatened.

  “No. I’m gonna say that you’re lying. If you don’t eat and get some sleep, you will be no good to Bella. At all.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Oh really. Funny I haven’t seen
you pull that action since we were twenty.”

  Logan dragged a deep breath into his lungs through his nose and breathed through the pain. Migraines had plagued him after he found out what his father had done to him as a kid.

  Betrayal, stress, starting over—all of it had pushed him over the edge as a kid. It really was a wonder that the migraines hadn’t come back earlier.

  Izzy was the reason.

  He knew it, but still didn’t want to face it.

  Izzy was the reason a lot of his life continued to work after Aimee had made Swiss cheese of it. But he needed to be clear-headed and rational about what was going on. He didn’t have time to be weak.

  Logan opened his eyes and blew out a muttered, “Shit. Help me get to Izzy’s room, will you?”

  Zeke steadied him when he stood. “So, how bad’s the tunnel vision?”

  “Manageable.” Fucking half the hallway was gone.

  “Now I know you’re lying. You almost ran into Felix.”

  Fuck.

  “No comment? Yeah. Okay. In we go, buddy.”

  There was no arguing when someone knew him that well. Zeke had helped him start over, helped him create All the King’s Men, and helped him trust that not every person on the planet was a scumbag like his father.

  Zeke sighed. “How’s this? I’ll stay and sit by my favorite girl. I promise I won’t leave and I promise that if she even flutters those mascara-commercial lashes I’ll wake you up. We’ll get a cot in her room. She’s got her own full bathroom. You can even wash off the burnt toast aroma you’ve been wearing.”

  Logan steadied himself against the wall. “Dick.”

  “The least she deserves is a clean, semi-coherent fiancé when she wakes up.”

  “Fine.” He’d hit his limit the day before and still had pushed. His body wasn’t going to allow it. That’s all there was to it.

  “Finally some common sense. Good thing I’d already requested the cot.”

  “Asshole.”

  “Ahh, but I’m a smart asshole.”

  Logan could hear the cheeky grin in his friend’s voice. Good thing he hurt too badly to kick his ass over it. Through the haze of the halo effect and tunnel vision, he spotted Izzy. Her face was turned toward the window and sunlight kissed her too-pale cheeks.

  Zeke maneuvered him over to another bed and pushed him down. “Good night, Logan.”

  “Fuck off.”

  “You may go with, ‘Goodnight, John Boy’ or ‘Goodnight, my bestest friend in all of the galaxy’. Fuck off is not one of the options.”

  Logan rolled onto his stomach. “Thanks, Z.”

  “See? Was that so hard?”

  “Yes,” he said against the thin pillow.

  “Sleep, jackass. I won’t let anything happen to her.”

  He’d sleep and then he’d plan a way to take care of Aimee.

  For good.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Glass shattering.

  She flinched.

  That sound…that sound and the heat.

  She tried to pull away. The snapping blast.

  Hurts.

  Logan?

  No. Not Logan.

  She reached for her—for the twisted and crumpled woman.

  For Nic.

  Nichole.

  A red tissue paper haze. Glass.

  Hurts.

  ∞♦ ∞

  Logan walked out of the bathroom with a new pair of jeans on and a sweatshirt from the first Winchester Falls festival he’d done. The warm memories and worn cotton helped ease the itching skin of his back.

  The little rips and tears from the glass were healing. His butterfly bandages had fallen off in the shower and he didn’t bother looking for their replacement. The water had run clear—now he just had to worry about Izzy’s cuts and bruises. The burns that kept her poor fingers so still and raw. The tears on the inside that matched the outside.

  A stash of K-cups and an individual coffee cup maker sat on the small dresser at the back of the room. He picked out a dark roast, tucked one of the colorful mugs under the tap and poured out a bottled water into the chamber.

  He wicked the last of the water out of his hair and scrubbed his fingers through the spiky ends. He must have washed it three times. Now he actually felt human again.

  Logan picked up his mug and sipped the dark brew. A million times better than the sludge he’d been drinking from the coffee machines.

  Izzy had slept through the night. Zeke had stayed, then had traded with Christian at midnight. He’d tried to stay up with his bandmate, but the migraine hangover had put him under again.

  Julian had showed up in the morning and was still sitting next to her, reading On the Road from his battered copy. His drummer read the book at least twice a year without fail. Looked like he was going to share this round with Izzy.

  The oddly paced novel was disjointed and ugly, beautiful and crazy. It suited Julian and his personality. He’d wear a suit with a grungy pair of boots. He was slick and opened his mouth and a southern accent slid out that devolved into creative swearing the more he drank.

  Besides Zeke, Julian was his favorite person.

  Lost to the story, he didn’t notice Logan come up next to him. He abruptly stopped narrating. “Look at you, the lost hobo no more.”

  “One layer of grime too many, son.”

  “Truth.” Julian stood and tucked the book in his back pocket. “Your girl turned her head to me as I was reading, but didn’t stir beyond that.”

  “She loves her books.”

  “That she does.” Julian palmed his close cropped hair. “Is there anything you want us doing at the house?”

  Logan crossed his arms, resting his mug on his forearm. “Just keep the reporters out.”

  “That Roth guy sent out reinforcements. There are many scary dudes on his payroll. It’s dick shrinking.”

  Logan snorted. “Let’s hope the same applies to the reporters.”

  “Local news crews have scouts in Winchester Falls every day. They keep trying to dig for an angle. Famous musician and local business woman’s wedding ruined by festival massacre. It’s getting ugly.”

  “Wedding?” Logan made an exasperated groan. “I haven’t married her yet, dammit. They’re already ruining my wedding day?”

  “It gets better.”

  “Somehow I doubt it.”

  “They’ve been playing our new single over the disaster footage. Somehow ‘Endings and Beginnings’ has become the Winchester Falls fight song.”

  “What?” Exasperation and horror laced each syllable.

  “Yeah. Charlie has us doing press to keep them away from you guys, but it’s been absolutely insane.”

  Logan was so glad he hadn’t put a television in Izzy’s room. It probably would have landed outside in a pile of circuits. Everything had an angle these days. Including the explosion.

  The idea that Aimee could have orchestrated that made his shoulders knot.

  “Hello. Good morning.”

  Logan turned to the little volunteer that worked this side of the hospital. She had a cart full of flowers. “We have a few arrangements for Ms. Grace.” She picked up a white basket with an explosion of sunflowers and black-eyed Susans. “From Mayor Darcy.”

  He smiled. The mayor knew how to use colors when she wanted. Logan took it with his free hand and set it on the table next to Izzy. That way she could see them when she woke up.

  One from The Stack family in town was full of wildflowers from Genevieve’s garden. Jacob’s wife was very selective with whom she shared her beloved flowers with. Izzy might enjoy Gen’s irises. At least a little.

  “And then we have this one. It’s so pretty. All of us on the rounds have been sighing over it all morning.” She held up the crystal vase with blood red dahlias and pristine white roses.

  The mug hit the tile with a pop and crash, ceramic shards scattering.

  Logan’s hands went to fists and his shoulders to stone.

  Izzy jumped at the
sounds and made a soft moan. Logan instantly turned to her, forcing his hands to gentle as he pushed her hair back.

  “Iz. It’s okay. I’m sorry.”

  She turned her face toward him, her topaz eyes blurry. “Hurt.”

  “I know, baby. You’re going to be okay. I promise.”

  She tried to move her arms, but the supports for her hands were fastened to the bed so her hands wouldn’t fall naturally to the side.

  “Just take a breath.” Logan looked over his shoulder at the girl, then to Julian.

  “Shit.” Zeke came in the door and took the arrangement. “Okay, sweetie. Thanks so much for the delivery.”

  “Did I do something wrong? They were so beautiful.” The volunteer, in her pink printed, kid-friendly scrubs and with her high ponytail, looked so distraught. “Don’t step in the glass. Let me just get—”

  Julian and Zeke herded her to the door. “It’s okay. We’ll take care of it.”

  “But…” The girl trailed off.

  “Zeke,” Logan said sharply. “Let the nurse know she’s awake.”

  “On it,” he called out.

  Logan couldn’t concentrate on the fumbling conversation. Izzy was actually looking at him. Actually saw him, rather than doing that sleepy dreaming she had for the last two days.

  Her eyes filled, realization crashing into her. “It wasn’t a dream.”

  He’d have given anything to tell her it was a bad dream. To roll over with her and hold her close and make it all go away. He bowed his head and kissed her temple, kissed the tears melting into her hairline, and finally a soft kiss to her chapped lips.

  “No.” She tried to curl into him, but hissed out a breath.

  “Iz, you gotta be still, okay? Shh. Stay still.”

  She swallowed and drew in a shuddering breath. Her shoulders shook. “Tell me it isn’t true. That you got her out.”

  The arrow landed deep inside his heart and embedded itself. It grew roots and bloomed through his veins and fed on his own sorrow. “I couldn’t. She was…” He swallowed down his own tears. “The explosion was too much.”

  “Why? I shouldn’t still be alive.”