Chapter 35
LOGAN
Chaos.
Panic.
Dread.
The past few hours have been turbulent. One minute I could’ve sworn Mom was about to shoot me, and the next Killian was running toward her like he’d lost his mind.
It’s wild to think I went from loving him only a few hours ago to hating him for what he did.
She’s my mother, and that was my bullet to take.
After the shootout, Wrath, Krychek, and I jumped into action.
Fortunately, being in a mob family means everyone knows how to transport bodies to the Center quickly.
As the doctors operate on Killian, Jaime, and Mom, I sit in the waiting room with Rage and my brothers, the anxiety steadily overpowering me.
If he dies…fuck, I can’t bear the thought.
It’s a shrill sound in my ears that won’t let me ignore it, but in vain, I try to pretend I can’t hear it.
Eventually, I can’t sit in the waiting area anymore, so I head into the hall, pacing.
Being a man entangled to the sins of my blood, I can’t help but carry guilt for what Mom did to his family.
Their blood is on my hands, and I can only imagine his contempt for her after discovering she was behind his family being killed that fateful day.
“Is there anything I can do?” Masters asks, and I turn to see him step out of the waiting area.
“Wanna go back there and finish Mom off for me?” And I nearly mean it.
“You know Dad wouldn’t want that,” Wrath says as he steps out behind Masters, and it’s the bridge I needed him to cross because I see red, and before I know it, I have him by his collar, shoving him against the wall.
“Would Dad have preferred she fucking shot me? Or you, or Masters, or Malaki, or Rory? Would he have preferred we all died that day? Are we just gonna keep her around until she comes back and knocks us off one by one?” I relive my fury at her betrayal, the sadistic look in her eyes as she fought to drown me, and then tonight as she tried to rob me of my life once again.
Wrath smirks, which sends me into a tailspin.
“I got you out of your head, didn’t I?” he asks.
I can’t shake the rage he unleashed, but I must admit he was right. It’s better that I got it out.
“I should deck you for that.” Even knowing it was just to earn a desired effect, I’m not sure I can forgive the nasty jab.
“Come on,” Masters says, prying my hands off Wrath’s collar. “No one else has to get hurt tonight.”
I pull away from Wrath, though part of me would feel better if I gave him the punch he deserves. Fuck, I wish I had a Sik Vik tied up somewhere whom I could tear apart. “I fucking hate this pain, the thought that they might come out and tell us he’s…” I can’t even say it.
Masters draws me in for a hug, and I hold him close, struggling with the warring emotions that plague me.
Eventually I regain control and pull back, catching my breath. “I’m okay. I’ll be fine.” And in just a few hours, after being so honest with myself, I’m back to being a liar. Because I can’t be fine as long as Killian’s hurt or worse.
We head back into the waiting area, and a few more quiet hours pass before visitors are permitted, first for Jaime, then Mom, who only Wrath goes to check in on.
Finally, we’re allowed to see Killian. He lies in bed, paler than usual, still asleep from the anesthesia, but I feel better being at his side. I want the bastard to wake up so I can go off on him about his foolish decision, but when he comes to, that’s the last thing on my mind.
“Kill?” I jump out of my chair, moving close to the bed.
He squints as his eyes adjust to the light. His gaze travels over my face as he seems to marvel that I’m here with him.
“Hey, you,” he says before coughing.
“Hey, buddy, we thought you were gone,” Rage says from behind me. “I thought for a second the house was gonna be all mine.”
In the short time I’ve spent around his brother, he reminds me a lot of my own family. In the annoying sort of way.
“I’ll get you some water,” I say, but Killian grabs hold of my wrist, with a surprising grip given his state, though it wanes just as quickly.
“Don’t leave,” he pleads.
I don’t try to pull away from his grasp because I almost didn’t have his touch ever again, so I’m sure as hell not gonna push it away now.
“I’ve got it,” Rage says, heading out.
“He’s been here all night,” I tell Killian. “You could’ve given him a few minutes.”
Although, I’m mostly chastising myself because I’m greedily glad he’s gone.
Killian smirks, giving some life to his otherwise stiff expression. “So bossy now that I’m in this weakened state.” The subtlest of smiles plays across his lips.
“I’m surprised you can smile after what my mother revealed.” A knot twists like a knife in my gut. “I wish I could say I can’t believe it, but…”
His expression turns serious. “In case there’s any doubt, know that I don’t fault you for your mother’s actions, Log. But it’s a relief to understand now that there was more to the story. And if anything, she did me a tremendous favor.”
“Favor?” I can’t imagine how he can say something so terrible. “For doing that to your family?”
He blinks, as though shocked by my question. “No, I meant in shooting me.”
“What is that supposed to mean? Or rather, what the fuck were you thinking?” That last part is delivered with all the fury I’ve been carrying, the stress of the past few hours that’s only been relieved in knowing he’s still alive.
Although, it’s hardly much relief.
“I was protecting you,” he insists.
“I figured that out when you charged her like a rhino. She’s my mother, and it was my responsibility to take that bullet.”
His brow creases. “Not only protecting you from her, Log. I was protecting you from me.”
“What?” I ask, horrified.
He gulps, his gaze shifting. “I was already fucked up because of the ceremony, and when you said you loved me, it was too much for me. I hated knowing I would be the reason you suffered for the rest of your life. And when Clara offered the opportunity, I realized that if I took the fall, you’d enjoy all the things you needed from the connection with my family, but with the freedom to fall in love with someone who could love you back. You could actually be happy.”
It’s a sobering confession, one that stings and feels good at the same time. A consideration I wouldn’t have expected from the Killian who had me chained up in his study.
Still, I’m not finished with him. “You thought I could be happy without you? We’re far beyond that now. Don’t you get that? If loyalty and self-sacrifice is all I can expect to get in this, then I’m willing to take it.”
He chuckles, and proof that I’m stressed nearly out of my mind is how quickly I jump from being reminded of how much I care for him to wanting to strangle him with my bare hands.
“What the fuck is so funny?” I ask through my teeth.
“You don’t get it, Log. I can’t fault you.
I didn’t get it either. The only person I ever took a bullet for was Dad.
And the only people I ever thought I’d do that for would be my family.
But the moment I was hit, I had an epiphany.
I realized that the reason I felt so much guilt and pain was because I thought I’d spend the rest of my life tormenting you without the one thing you wanted.
Because I cared about you so much that I couldn’t bear the thought of you being without something you longed for. Because I love you too, Logan.”
His words send a jolt through me, breaking through the tension that’s ravaged me throughout the night. Quieting that shrill sound from the gunshot.
He takes my hand, caressing gently. “I wasn’t even sure I’d know what it would feel like, but when I took that bullet, I knew it with every fiber of my being.”
There’s a part of me that can’t believe this, given everything he told me, but when I look into his eyes, I feel the truth of his words. I also know him well enough to know he’d never lie about something like this, certainly not to make me feel better.
Still, I fear I’m about to wake up in the waiting room and discover this was all a fucked-up dream.
“You’re mine, Logan Lorde,” he says softly, like it’s all the strength he has left to speak.
I move close and take his mouth, and his arm wraps around me as he draws me close.
All our kisses have been hot, but this one is more meaningful, and I embrace it with all my might.
Because I’m never letting my husband go. Not if I can fucking help it.