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Fear that fate was going to take her away anyway.
He bowed his head and covered the back of his head with shaking fingers. He dug into his neck and shoulder muscles until the pain chased back the fear. Until he could breathe again.
Until he could shore up his reserves again.
He couldn’t lose her.
He wouldn’t survive it.
Three
She hurt.
Worse than when she’d broken her arm in tenth grade.
Worse than the emergency appendectomy in college.
God, she never thought anything could top that.
But this did.
Darkness frayed at the edges of the shrieking red pain.
She welcomed it.
She chased it.
She curled it around her shoulders like a wool shawl.
Let it take her.
Four
Logan escaped into the men’s room and dunked his head into the sink, letting icy water rush over his neck and face. He washed away the weakness and shame clawing at his brain.
This wasn’t about him.
He needed to get his shit together for her. She needed him to get through this.
Because she was going to make it through surgery.
He simply wouldn’t accept another option.
A shower would have helped, but that would wait. He swiped away the worst of the leftover soot and blood that he’d missed on the first round. Some of it was his own. Glass shards were embedded in his collar and cuffs.
Christ, it had been everywhere.
He rolled his neck and took stock of his battle-worn face. At least he didn’t look like a lunatic anymore. And appearances were all he had right then.
You can do this.
You have to do this.
He opened the door and Zeke pounced.
“Lo, where the hell have you been?”
“Just had to walk it off before I split someone’s lip.”
