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“Fuck you,” I bit out through clenched teeth. “You’re questioning me as if I’m the one in the damn wrong, and every time I tell you what I remember, you make it sound as if I’m making all this shit up. So—and I mean this with every bit of disrespect I can muster—fuck you.”
Jaxon pinched the bridge of his nose before pointing a stiff finger to the door. “Get the hell out,” Jaxon snarled at him when the officer opened his mouth to “correct” me. “I’ll be contacting the police station to get someone else on the case.”
The officer clenched his jaw before storming from the room. Jaxon sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. “How’s your head?”
“Fucking hurts,” I muttered, shutting my eyes. The doctor had been weaning me off the morphine for a couple of days now, and God, the pain was so fucking bad. Everything hurt. My ass hurt the worst. Just thinking and talking about what happened down there made me want to throw up. I was remembering more and more as the hours passed, and I was ready to rip my fucking skin off my body.
“The doctor wants to release you later today,” Jaxon informed me. I grunted. “You’re more than welcome to stay with us, Logan, if you don’t have anywhere else to go. My house is open to you. You know that.”
I smirked, my eyes still shut. “What if I want to share Spencer’s room with him?” I asked, unable to help being a dick. I was in pain and in a sour mood. Jaxon was an easy target.
Jaxon grunted. “I don’t care, Logan. My son is eighteen, and you’re nineteen. I just ask that you be respectful under my roof when I’m home, and don’t let me catch you two doing shit that’ll scar me. Understand?”
I snorted, wincing right after. “Understood.” I cracked an eye open. “Spencer and Ezra back from school yet?”
He nodded. “Ezra took Spencer to get something to eat. They should be up here soon.”
I sighed, hating that Spencer wasn’t taking good care of himself. I knew he was worried, but fuck, I didn’t want him doing this to himself. But at least Ezra was keeping an eye on him. I sure as fuck couldn’t right now.
“Good,” I muttered. “I need cuddles.”
Jaxon chuckled and gently patted my leg. “Get some rest, Logan.”
I nodded and got a little more comfortable, ignoring the pain throbbing through my body the best I could.
* * *
A warm body slid alongside mine, and I groaned, my eyes opening to slits. Ezra’s face was right in front of mine, a small smile tilting his lips. “Hey, baby,” he murmured.
“Hey,” I rasped. He carded his fingers into my hair, being extra careful around the tender parts of my skull, and I softly moaned, shutting my eyes back. “God, that feels good.”
Ezra brushed his lips to my forehead. “Spencer is with Jaxon,” he told me quietly before I could ask where our boy was at. “They’re talking about school. Spencer failed a test.” I clenched my jaw, not fucking liking that. Spencer was smart. He didn’t fail anything. He was a straight-A student. Ezra’s lips brushed my forehead. “He’s going to be fine, Logan. He has a chance to redo it due to what’s going on right now.”
I sighed. “I shouldn’t have gone home,” I muttered. None of this would’ve happened if I’d just been able to tell my mom no. She’d had no damn problem leaving me in the end, had she? I had no idea why I’d always been so fucking loyal to her. When the officers told me she died—I was vaguely beginning to remember feeling her non-existent pulse now—I’d scoffed and muttered, “Good riddance.”
“We’re not doing the should haves and shouldn’t haves, baby,” Ezra sternly told me. “What we’re going to do is focus on coming out of this shit on the other side and healing together, you hear me?”
I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, remembering Ezra’s broken sobs and the trembling of his shoulders and chest as he held my broken, bloody, battered body in his arms. A tear ran down my cheek. I wished more than anything that I could rip those memories out of his head so they wouldn’t haunt him.
“I know,” Ezra said quietly, his voice thick with sadness and pain. I hadn’t said a word, but he knew what I was thinking regardless. He held my head close to his chest and buried his face in my hair. “I know, baby.”
For the first time since I’d woken up a few days ago, I allowed myself to silently cry, my tears soaking into Ezra’s shirt. And he just held me, not saying a word, though I could feel his tears running along my tender scalp.
A sick son of a bitch had broken me, and in turn, I’d broken Ezra when he’d come to find me. I was alive, had been given a second chance, but at what cost? What had seeing me like that cost Ezra? What was seeing the aftermath of what happened to me doing to our boy?
Maybe it’d been better if I hadn’t survived at all.
CHAPTER 27
Spencer
THAT NIGHT
I couldn’t sleep. I hadn’t slept well in days—not since Ezra called me and told me Logan had been hurt. That he was in the hospital, severely injured. Even now, bruises still discolored Logan’s skin, and there was a haunted look in his eyes that ripped my soul apart and speared an agony-coated arrow through my heart when he looked at me.
Logan tried so damn hard to put up a brave front for me, but I could see right through it.
“Baby,” Ezra spoke quietly into the dark, “you need to get some sleep.”
