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He ran his hand through his brown hair, exhaling in frustration. “What’s the difference?” he muttered to himself.
“There’s a big difference,” she said, not holding back. “So, which one is it?”
He shook his head as he squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing them with his powerful hand. “I should never have brought you here,” he said. “It was a mistake.”
Bella jumped out of her seat and stuck her finger in his face. “That’s really fucking rude,” she snapped back at him. “We’ve been having a good time together and you’re really sweet when you’re not being such a dick! I like you, Logan. Why can’t you admit that you like me too?”
“I do like you,” he whispered, hanging his head. “That’s why you have to go.”
Bella crossed her arms and planted her big ass back on the chair. “Well, I’m not leaving. Not until you tell me why.”
“Fine,” he grunted, gritting his teeth together. “If you don’t leave, then I will!”
“Good,” she shouted at him as he stormed out through the door. “I’ll be here waiting until you get back!”
He shook his head, cursing under his breath as he ran toward the woods, finally disappearing in the trees.
Bella ground her teeth as angry heat flushed through her body. If he wasn’t going to tell her the answers to her questions, then she was going to find them herself.
She marched over to the drawers in the kitchen and ripped open the top one, grabbing the screwdriver inside. She squeezed the handle as she stormed over to the spare bedroom and started unscrewing the lock that was lodged into the door.
Bella took in a deep breath as the metal lock fell to the floor with a clang. She grabbed the door handle and opened it.
“It’s time to find out the truth.”
Chapter 9
Bella slowly crept into the spare bedroom with her heart pounding, expecting a monster or something to jump out at her.
But there was no monster. Just a small desk against the wall with a stack of papers on top.
Bella’s breath seized in her throat. Did this room have the answers that she was looking for?
She walked up to the desk and took the first piece of paper on the stack, a newspaper article that was so old, it was fading to a shade of yellow. It was brittle in her fingers as she picked it up and read it.
Local surgeon, Logan Wright, saves one-hundredth child.
Her eyes widened as she read the headline. Logan had been a pediatric surgeon and a famous one at that. That’s how he knew the symptoms of a concussion. He must have been a Harvard-educated doctor.
She scanned the article quickly, shaking her head in disbelief as she read how he developed a system to operate on children that increased the effectiveness of the surgery by eighty percent as well as diminishing the recovery time by as much as half.
He was a respected doctor with a thriving practice, saving the lives of sick children who desperately needed him. It didn’t make sense. Why would he leave all of that to come live by himself in the forest?
She placed the newspaper article down on the desk and lifted up the magazine that was under it. She gasped when she saw the man on the cover.
It was a younger version of Logan, smiling without the deep scars running across his face. He was gorgeous. He still was, but without the scars, he belonged on the cover of magazines.
The magazine was Scientific Breakthrough, with the headline of Logan Wright. Advancing Science and Creating Miracles.
She scanned the articles and kept flipping through the rest of the pile of magazines, newspapers, awards, and scientific publications.
It turned out that Logan was one of the world’s leading pediatric surgeons. He had developed dozens of new operating techniques that helped saved thousands of lives.
She lowered the National Geographic magazine in her hand, shaking her head in disbelief. Why hadn’t he said anything? What really happened to him to drive him all the way out here to such an unproductive life of solitude?
Bella looked but she found no mention of his scars and no mention of anything that could drive him to leave civilization.
She heard movement outside and quickly put everything back exactly how she had found it. Logan had returned and he was sitting on the bench on the porch, waiting for her.
