Chapter 6 Claiming the Truth
CHAPTER SIX
CLAIMING THE TRUTH
LOGAN
Logan woke to screaming.
His own.
He jolted upright in the chair, heart hammering, Martinez's blood still wet on his hands even though it wasn't, even though he was in his cabin in Bitterroot Ridge and Martinez had been dead for two years.
But he could still feel it. The heat of the burning helicopter. The weight of a dying man's chest beneath his palms. The sound of choking, gasping, begging,
"Logan."
A hand on his shoulder. Soft. Careful.
He flinched violently, nearly knocking the chair over.
Avery froze for half a second, remembering every sharp word from yesterday, every wound they'd carved into each other. But anger evaporated the moment she saw his face, ashen, twisted with fear, not pride or distance.
"Hey. Hey, it's okay. You're safe."
Avery.
Logan focused on her face through the darkness, concerned, steady, not afraid even though she should be. Even though he'd just woken up screaming like a man possessed.
"Sorry," he rasped. "I'm sorry, I…”
"Don't apologize." She knelt in front of him, her hand still on his shoulder. "Nightmare?"
He nodded, not trusting his voice.
"Want to talk about it?"
"No."
"Okay." But she didn't move. Didn't pull away. Just stayed there, her presence grounding him while his heartbeat slowly returned to normal.
Logan dragged a hand over his face. His skin was clammy with sweat. "What time is it?"
"A little after two." Avery's voice was gentle. "You've been asleep maybe an hour."
One hour. That's all he'd managed before the nightmares found him.
"You should go back to bed," he said.
"So should you."
"I'm fine here."
"Logan, you can't sleep in that chair…”
"I said I'm fine." The words came out harsher than he'd intended.
Avery went quiet.
Logan closed his eyes, guilt adding to the cocktail of adrenaline and fear still coursing through his system. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean…”
"It's okay." She stood slowly. "I'll leave you alone."
"Avery, wait."
She paused, looking back at him.
Logan stared at her for a long moment, this woman who'd knocked on his door three days ago and turned his carefully controlled isolation inside out.
This woman who'd pushed back against every wall he'd built, who'd kissed him like she meant it, who'd told him she was choosing him even after he'd given her every reason not to.
This woman who was looking at him right now like he was someone worth staying for.
“My last deployment,” Logan said quietly. “Afghanistan. Extraction mission went sideways.”
Avery moved closer, slow and careful, but he didn’t look at her. His gaze stayed fixed on the wall, on something far behind it.
“I told you part of it,” he said, voice rough. “What I didn’t tell you was what came after.”
He exhaled shakily.
“I made it home, but I didn’t… come home. Not really. The army wanted me to stay in, but I couldn’t get through a single training exercise without seeing pieces of the mission everywhere. A smell, a sound, a shadow—anything could set it off.”
Avery’s fingers brushed his forearm, grounding him. He didn’t pull away.
“Rafe called me,” Logan continued. “Said Bitterroot Ridge SAR needed another medic. Said it might help to put the training to use again—just in a different way.”
His jaw clenched.
“I tried. I hiked the ridge to meet the team for a winter drill. Didn’t even make it halfway. A tree snapped in the wind and I dropped to the ground like I was back under fire. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Just… panic. Pure panic.”
Avery’s eyes softened. She moved closer.
“I didn’t go to that training,” Logan said. “Didn’t go to any of them. I walked into the woods instead and didn’t come out for weeks. Figured isolation was better than falling apart in front of people who depended on me.”
A muscle jumped in his jaw.
“Your dad only knows the surface-level stuff. That I’m competent. Reliable. A safe bet. He doesn’t know why I’m up here instead of working with the team full-time.” He shook his head. “He doesn’t know how often this place reminds me of that last mission.”
Avery reached for his hand.
“Logan,” she whispered, “you don’t have to do this alone.”
"That wasn't your fault."
"I was a medic. My job was to save him."
"In a combat zone. Under enemy fire. With catastrophic injuries and no support." Avery squeezed his hand. "Logan, you couldn't have saved him. No one could have."
"I should've tried harder."
"You did everything you could."
"It wasn't enough."
"It never feels like enough when someone dies." Her voice was soft.
Logan finally looked at her. Really looked at her. And saw understanding in her eyes instead of pity. Saw someone who knew what it meant to lose, to fail, to carry guilt that didn't make sense but wouldn't let go.
"After that, every time I tried to work…” He stopped.
"You saw Martinez," she finished quietly.
"Yeah." He exhaled slowly. "Every emergency. Every crisis. I'd hear him choking. Feel his blood on my hands. And I'd freeze. Just for a second. But a second is all it takes to lose someone."
"Is that why you came here?"
"I came here because I needed to figure out if I could still do the job. If I could help people without falling apart." He looked down at their joined hands. "Two years later, I'm still not sure."
"You helped me."
"That's different."
"How?"
"Because you didn't need saving. You just needed teaching." His thumb brushed across her knuckles. "You're competent, Avery. Strong. You don't need someone broken trying to protect you. That's all I know how to do, patch holes, buy time, lose people anyway. I don't know how to be anything else."
"What if I don't need protection?" She shifted closer. "What if I just need partnership?"
Logan's chest tightened. "You deserve better than partnership with someone who wakes up screaming."
"Everyone has nightmares, Logan."
"Not like this."
"Maybe not exactly like this. But we all have our ghosts.
" Her free hand came up, settling over his heart.
"You think you're the only one who's broken?
I wake up sometimes and smell blood. Hear my mother's voice.
Remember exactly what my father looked like when he realized she was gone.
" Her voice shook slightly. "I became an EMT because I thought I could save people.
Make up for the one person I couldn't save. But that's not how it works, is it?"
"No," Logan said quietly. "It's not."
"We can't save everyone. We can't undo the past. We can't fix what's broken." She held his gaze. "But we can choose to keep going anyway. Choose to help the people we can help. Choose to let someone in even when it's terrifying."
"Avery…”
"You asked me yesterday why I was choosing you.
" Her thumb brushed across his chest. "This is why.
Because you're the first person who's looked at me and seen a partner, not a victim.
Because you teach me like I'm capable instead of fragile.
Because you're honest about your damage instead of pretending you don't have any. "
Logan's hand came up, covering hers. "You don't know what you're asking for."
"Yes, I do." She leaned in closer. "I'm asking for honesty. For partnership. For someone who'll let me see the nightmares and the scars and the parts that hurt." Her voice dropped. "I'm asking for you, Logan. Exactly as you are."
His breath caught. "I don't know how to do this."
"Neither do I." She smiled, small, sad, hopeful. "But maybe we figure it out together."
Logan stared at her. At this woman who'd walked into his life three days ago and refused to leave even when he'd given her every reason to. At this woman who saw his damage and wasn't running. At this woman who was offering him something he'd thought he'd lost the right to have.
A chance.
"I'm not good at this," he said roughly. "At letting people in. At trusting that they'll stay."
"I know."
"I'll probably push you away. Probably fuck this up."
"Probably." Her smile widened slightly. "I'll probably push back. Probably call you on your bullshit."
"Good." His hand slid up to cup her face. "You should."
"Logan." Her voice was barely a whisper. "What are we doing?"
Logan's breath shuddered. “I don’t know.” He leaned in slowly, giving her time to pull away. "But I'm tired of fighting it."
"Me too."
This time, when their lips met, there was no hesitation. No pulling back. Just hunger and need and three days of restraint shattering all at once.
Avery made a sound, relief, want, surrender, and her arms came around his neck. Logan stood, pulling her with him, and she wrapped her legs around his waist like she belonged there.
Maybe she did.
He carried her the few steps to the cot, laying her down carefully. She looked up at him, eyes dark with desire, hair spread across his pillow.
"Tell me to stop," he said, his voice wrecked. "Tell me this is a bad idea."
"It probably is." She pulled him down. "But I don't care."
Logan braced himself above her, every muscle locked down with the effort of holding back. "If we do this…”
"We'll figure out the rest later." She reached up, her hand cupping his jaw. "But right now, Logan, I need you. Not to fix last night. Not to fill the silence. I want this because I want you. Not the careful, controlled version. Not the man who's trying to do the right thing. Just you."
Something in him broke.
He kissed her hard, deep, swallowing her gasp. His hands found her waist, sliding under her shirt, and she arched into his touch.
"Logan," she breathed against his mouth.
"Tell me if I need to stop."
Her hands framed his face, steady and sure. "I know exactly what I'm asking for."
His laugh was rough. "Bossy."
"You like it."
"Yeah." He pressed his forehead to hers. "I really do."
Later, much later, Avery lay curled against his side, her head on his chest, one leg tangled with his.
Logan stared at the ceiling, his hand tracing idle patterns on her shoulder, wondering how everything had changed so fast.
Three days ago, he'd been alone. Content with his isolation. Convinced that was how it had to be.
Now there was this woman in his arms, breathing soft and even, trusting him to hold her while she slept.
And the thought of letting her go made his chest ache, sharp, undeniable, terrifying in a way even gunfire had never been.
"I can hear you thinking," Avery murmured against his skin.
"Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you."
"You didn't." She shifted, propping herself up on one elbow. Her hair was a mess, her lips swollen from his kisses, and she'd never looked more beautiful. "What's wrong?"
He sighed. "Tomorrow we have to go down. Face your father. Face everyone who's going to have opinions about this."
"Let them have opinions. I didn't come up this mountain to please them. I don't care what they think."
"You will when…”
"When what? When my father yells at me? When people gossip?" She held his gaze. "I told you already. I'm not a child. I can handle consequences."
"I don't want you to have to."
"Too late for that." But her smile was gentle. "We're in this now. Together. That means facing whatever comes. Together."
Logan's hand came up, threading through her hair. "You're sure about this?"
"Are you?"
He searched her face, looking for doubt, for fear, for any sign that she didn't understand what she was signing up for.
All he saw was certainty.
"Yeah," he said finally. "I'm sure."
"Good." She kissed him softly. "Then stop worrying about tomorrow and be here with me tonight.”
She settled back against his chest, and Logan wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.
Outside, the night was quiet. The storm had passed. Dawn would come soon, bringing reality with it.
But for now, there was just this.
Her warmth. Her trust. Her choice.
And for the first time in two years, Logan Maddox wasn't alone.
Tomorrow would demand answers. But tonight, for the first time in years, Logan let himself choose the thing he wanted instead of the thing that kept him safe.