27. Logan
Logan
Hospitals don’t suit Luke.
Too still.
Too quiet.
Too much waiting.
I stand just outside his room, staring through the glass at the steady rise and fall of his chest, the monitors tracking things I should already know without needing numbers to confirm it.
He’s alive.
That’s what matters.
Everything else—
we deal with.
“Doctor says they repaired the internal bleeding and realigned my bones,” Luke mutters behind me.
I turn.
He’s propped up against the pillows, one arm bandaged, a bruise already forming along his ribs, stretching up toward his shoulder and both legs broken.
Feels like everything.
“You trying to get yourself killed?” I ask.
His mouth tilts faintly. “Didn’t have that on the schedule today.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
He exhales slowly, shifting slightly, jaw tightening for just a second before he smooths it out.
That’s Luke.
Always controlled.
Always steady.
Even now.
“What happened?” I ask.
“I followed a tip,” he says. “Structure near the north boundary. Looked abandoned.”
“And?”
“Wasn’t.”
My jaw tightens.
“Trap?”
“Yeah.”
Simple.
Clean.
Just like that.
“What kind?” Cole asks from the corner.
He’s been there the whole time, arms crossed, pacing in short bursts when he can’t stay still.
“Support beams cut just enough to hold until someone stepped inside,” Luke says. “Then it gave.”
Cole swears under his breath.
Grayson doesn’t say anything.
He stands near the window, arms loose at his sides, watching, listening, putting pieces together.
Always thinking three steps ahead.
“That tip,” I say. “Where’d it come from?”
Luke glances at me.
“Anonymous call.”
Of course.
“Timing?” Grayson asks.
“Right after the town meeting,” Luke replies.
That lands.
Because we all know what that means.
Not coincidence.
Response.
“He’s pushing faster,” Cole says.
“Yeah,” I agree.
But my focus isn’t on the timing.
Or the structure.
Or even the fact that Luke walked into it.
It’s on—
her.
Because this—
this lines up too clean.
Too fast.
Too directly.
“You think she knew?” Cole asks.
There it is.
Out loud now.
I don’t answer right away.
Because I don’t know.
Because I don’t want to guess.
Because I don’t trust the answer either way.
“She wasn’t there,” Luke says.
We all look at him.
His expression doesn’t change.
“She left hours before,” he adds.
“That’s not what I asked,” Cole mutters.
“I know,” Luke replies.
Silence.
Short.
Heavy.
“She didn’t set that trap,” Luke says.
Certainty.
Not speculation.
Not doubt.
Just—
fact.
Cole exhales sharply. “You don’t know that.”
“I know enough.”
That stops him.
Because Luke doesn’t throw words around like that.
Not when it matters.
“Then what are you saying?” Grayson asks.
Luke shifts slightly, wincing before settling again.
“I’m saying this wasn’t about her,” he says. “It was about us.”
My jaw tightens.
Because he’s right.
Because this wasn’t random.
Because it was targeted.
Personal.
“He wanted us reacting,” I say.
“He wanted us exposed,” Luke corrects.
Yeah.
That too.
Silence settles again.
Different now.
Focused.
Because we’re not guessing anymore.
We’re adjusting.
“He escalates,” Cole mutters.
“Only if we let him control the pace,” Grayson replies.
“That’s exactly what he’s doing,” Cole fires back.
“Not if we change the board,” Grayson says.
The words hit.
Because I’ve heard them before.
Because she said them.
Because I didn’t listen.
I push that thought down.
Hard.
Because this isn’t about her.
Not right now.
Not when Luke’s sitting here because someone decided to send a message.
“Then we don’t react,” I say.
“We move first.”
Grayson nods once.
Cole doesn’t argue this time.
Because this—
this is something we all understand.
Luke exhales slowly. “You might want to rethink who’s helping you do that.”
The room goes still.
Not tense.
Not sharp.
Just—
waiting.
Because we all know who he means.
I don’t look at him.
Don’t need to.
“Not happening,” Cole says immediately.
“She’s already proven—”
“She didn’t set the trap,” Luke cuts in.
“That doesn’t clear her.”
“No,” Luke agrees. “But it changes the question.”
Grayson shifts slightly. “Which is?”
“Why she stayed,” Luke says.
That lands.
Because that’s the part we don’t have.
The part I didn’t wait for.
The part I didn’t let her finish.
“She left,” Cole counters. “That answers it.”
“No,” Luke says. “It doesn’t.”
Silence.
Again.
Because he’s right.
Because leaving doesn’t erase what she did—
but it doesn’t explain it either.
I push a hand through my hair, exhaling slowly.
Because this—
this is where it shifts.
From what she did—
to why.
And that’s the part I didn’t want to deal with.
“She said she needed control. Evan controls every aspect of her life,” I say.
Grayson glances at me. “And you think she got it by leaving?”
“I think she thought she would.”
Cole shakes his head. “Or she’s setting something else up.”
“Maybe,” I say.
But it doesn’t land the same way it did before.
Not after this.
Not after Luke.
“Did she look like she was setting something up when she left?” Luke asks.
The question hits harder than anything else.
Because I see it.
Clear.
Sharp.
The way she stood there.
The way she didn’t try to fix it.
Didn’t argue.
Didn’t—
stay.
No.
She didn’t look like she was setting something up.
She looked like she was—
done.
That’s the problem.
Because I don’t know if that makes it better.
Or worse.
“You’re thinking about going after her,” Grayson says.
Not a question.
A statement.
I don’t answer.
Because I don’t know what I’d say.
Because I don’t know if that’s what this is.
Cole lets out a sharp breath. “Don’t.”
I glance at him.
“You bring her back in, you’re inviting more of this.”
“Or we get ahead of it,” Luke says.
“By trusting someone who already lied to us?”
“She told the truth when it counted,” Luke replies.
That lands.
Because it’s true.
Because she didn’t deny Vegas.
Because she didn’t spin it.
Because she said—
yes.
I push that thought down.
Because it doesn’t change what she did.
It doesn’t change what I said.
It doesn’t change—
“Logan.”
Luke’s voice pulls me back.
Steady.
Focused.
“Whatever this is,” he says, “it’s bigger than what happened between you two.”
I nod once.
Because it is.
Because it has to be.
Because if it’s not—
then I walked away from something that mattered for the wrong reason.
And I don’t—
I don’t go there.
Not yet.
Not until I know.
My phone buzzes.
Sharp.
Immediate.
I pull it out without thinking.
Unknown number.
I answer.
“Yeah.”
A pause.
Then—
“Logan.”
Her voice.
Everything in me stills.
Not the room.
Not the situation.
Just—
me.
“Quinn,” I say.
Flat.
Controlled.
Too controlled.
“I heard about Luke,” she says.
Of course she did.
“Yeah,” I reply.
A beat.
Then—
“He’s alive?”
“He is.”
Silence.
Short.
Heavy.
“Good,” she says quietly.
I don’t respond.
Don’t give her anything more than that.
Not yet.
“I didn’t know,” she adds.
There it is.
The line.
The one I don’t trust.
The one I don’t accept.
“I figured,” I say.
It comes out rougher than I intend.
She doesn’t react to it.
At least not in a way I can hear.
“I’m coming back,” she says.
The words hit.
Hard.
Unexpected.
Immediate.
“Why?” I ask.
Because that’s the question.
Not what she says.
Why she’s saying it.
“Because this is my fault,” she replies.
No hesitation.
No deflection.
Just—
truth.
And that—
that shifts something.
Not trust.
Not forgiveness.
But something.
“That’s not how this works,” I say.
“No,” she agrees. “It’s how I do.”
Same line.
Different weight.
“I’ll be there in an hour,” she adds.
I tighten my grip on the phone.
Because I should stop her.
Because I should tell her not to come back.
Because I should—
“Fine,” I say.
The word leaves before I can pull it back.
Before I can decide if it’s the right call.
Before I can—
It’s done.
“Logan—”
I end the call.
Not because I don’t want to hear what she’s about to say.
Because I do.
Too much.
And that’s the problem.
I look up.
Three sets of eyes on me.
Waiting.
“What?” Cole asks.
“She’s coming back,” I say.
Silence.
Then—
“Of course she is,” Cole mutters.
Grayson watches me.
Luke doesn’t say anything.
But there’s something in his expression now.
Something steady.
Something—
knowing.
Because whether I like it or not—
this isn’t over.
Not with Evan.
Not with her.
Not with any of it.
And in an hour—
everything changes again.