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I forced a smile to my lips before Spencer and I followed his dad out of the hospital. We walked a few feet away from the doors before Jaxon came to a stop. He laced his fingers behind his head and stared up at the sky for a few moments before looking at us. Pain and sadness rang in his eyes as he looked at us.
How many times a day could I throw up? I had a feeling I was going to be tested.
“I need you two to take a moment to brace yourselves,” he said quietly. Spencer audibly gulped, and his hand tightened around mine, growing clammy. My knuckles turned white around his fingers. “Logan was raped. There’s a lot of tearing. A lot of bleeding. He hemorrhaged.” Vomit rose in my throat, and I gagged. Jaxon reached forward and squeezed my shoulder as I struggled to swallow it all back down. Spencer sniffled, shaking beside me. “He has a severe concussion and some brain swelling. They’re keeping him asleep until the swelling goes down.” Spencer raised his fist to his mouth, muffling a sob. I drew him into my arms, feeling like my insides were trying to rip me open. “He’s got some broken ribs. Lots of bruising. It’s going to take him a while to recover.”
Spencer began to cry all over again, his fists bunching in my bloodied shirt. I squeezed him to me. “His mom is dead,” I said quietly.
Jaxon sighed. “More than likely drug overdose. I, unfortunately, can’t find that out. Logan has to when he wakes up as her next-of-kin.”
My throat clicked as I swallowed. “Do you think he’s going to be okay when he wakes up?”
Jaxon’s frown deepened. “Physically? Not right away. Mentally?” He shrugged, looking pained. “We have to wait and see.”
CHAPTER 26
Logan
A FEW DAYS LATER
I slowly opened my eyes, blinking at the dimly lit room. My head was a little fuzzy, and it was hard to focus on any one thing in particular. I smacked my lips together before licking them, wincing at how chapped they were. A little bit of blood coated my tongue, making me grimace.
“Logan?” A slightly smaller hand wrapped around mine, that sweet voice kicking my heart into overdrive, making the steady beep-beep-beep of the heart monitor go a little crazy.
I turned my head, smiling at the sight of Spencer sitting beside my bed. His face was pale, and shadows bruised the skin beneath his eyes. He was sitting on Ezra’s lap, and Ezra was asleep, his arms bound around our boy protectively, like he was afraid something might happen to him if he didn’t hold him tight enough.
“Hey, pretty boy,” I rasped. I flipped my hand over and linked our fingers together. “How long have I been out?”
His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “A week,” he said quietly. “You had some brain swelling.” Tears clouded his eyes. Drawing in a deep, shaky breath, he closed them, hiding his beautiful eyes from me. I tightened my grip on his hand, agony twisting my insides. My shit had touched him, and I fucking hated it. Hated myself for it, as well as the asshole who’d raped me. Hated my mother just as much for bringing that fucker into my life. Slowly, Spencer reopened his eyes, his lips trembling. “You were really hurt, Logan,” he croaked.
“I know, baby,” I said quietly. “I know.” I looked up at the ceiling, drawing in a deep breath. I didn’t remember much from that day, but I remembered enough to know I’d been raped, and Ricky had beaten the shit out of me. I could still feel the twinges of pain. Had enough tiny images to make out what’d happened.
“Cops have been waiting to ask you questions,” Spencer told me. He began playing with my fingers. I looked back over at him. “Dad’s been keeping them away since he found out a few hours ago the doctors were taking you off the sedatives or whatever.” Spencer sniffled. “He wants you to have some time before getting bombarded with questions.”
The door opened, bright light filtering into the dimly lit room as Jaxon stepped in. He quickly shut the door back behind him before walking over to the bed. He smiled at me. “Good to see you awake, kid. How are you feeling? Any pain?”
I grunted. “No. Whatever they have me on is pretty fuckin’ good.” I yawned, suddenly feeling drowsy. Jaxon looked at the IV bag hanging on a pole above my bed. “Am I already supposed to be tired?” I mumbled.
Jaxon patted my free hand. “Just the morphine. Rest, Logan. Spencer and Ezra will still be here when you wake up,” he promised me.
Spencer gently squeezed my fingers, making me sluggishly blink at him. I wasn’t ready to let him out of my sight yet, but this medication was some damn good shit. “I promise we will.”
I smiled and shut my eyes, letting sleep claim me again.
* * *
I grunted, glaring at the officers in front of me. I fucking hated cops, and they hated me just as much. I was surprised they were even here, pretending to be worried about what happened to the trouble-making kid. No doubt, they thought I basically fucking asked for it. I could see it in their damn eyes.
Jaxon was probably the only reason the officers were here, honestly. Because I knew enough from the broken bones and concussions I’d received over the years while growing up to know that the cops could write whatever they wanted in their reports. They never had to speak to me.
“So, you think your mother’s boyfriend did this to you?” the cop asked.
I sighed, my head throbbing. This was already getting to be too much, and my patience was wearing dangerously thin. “Think,” I muttered, scoffing. “I’m done with this goddamn conversation. Get the fuck out of my room.” The entire time they’d been there, all they’d done was belittle me and talk to me as if I was making all this shit up.
Fuck them. I was so tired of the fucking victim-blaming. Just because I was a troublemaker didn’t mean I was lying about having my asshole ripped open.
Jaxon stepped into the room as the officer stood from his chair, flipping his notebook closed. Jaxon looked between us with a frown. “You’re already done?”
“The boy is uncooperative,” the officer said. I gritted my teeth. “I can’t help him if he doesn’t want to be helped.”
