Page 47 of Embattled Return

With a bitter smile, he shook his dark head, a couple of curls falling over his forehead. “I was completely lucid until I was evacced. I felt every burn, but I couldn’t put them out. I felt... I felt what was left of my friends sliding down my face. My helmet was blown off, my toes cut off by shrapnel. I can’t even tell you all the shrapnel spots.”

She stared at him in horror, not even able to comprehend... Tears filled her eyes and she looked at him with new respect. “Logan,” she said, swinging her legs off the edge of the bed and sitting in front of him. “I have mad respect for what you survived. I’m so sorry.”

Pushing to her feet, she moved forward enough to wrap her arms around him. For a moment he held himself stiffly erect, as if to repel her pity, then he seemed to sag, exhaling into her neck. His arms wrapped around her back, holding her to him. A subtle shudder rippled through him, and he gasped in a breath, and she realized he was really struggling.

“It’s okay, Logan. You’re all right.”

His legs seemed to sag and he staggered to the bed. His eyes were wet with tears, but none had fallen. He wouldn’t let them. His face was contorted with remembered trauma. “I remember screaming from the pain and praying that I would just die, because I could literally feel my skin sloughing off. It took a while for the guys behind us to find me. They thought we were all dead.”

Marigold sat beside him, rubbing his back, feeling more scars beneath his t-shirt. The absolute desolation on his face made her heart ache. She wondered if he’d been able to talk to anyone about this. The ex had dumped him, she knew that much. And his family was shit. Had he had anyone to release to?

“Did you have anyone for you at the hospital? Your family?”

His mouth turned down, and he snorted. “My mother called me a few times, but Dad wouldn’t let her take the trip to see me.”

“Fuckers,” she breathed.

The lines around his mouth deepened in a slight smile. “Yeah.”

The poor guy looked whipped. His shoulders were slumped, but he wasn’t broken. He seemed more defeated than she’d ever seen him. No, not defeated. Beat down. It worried her.

“This has been a hell of a day for you, but I want you to realize how strong you are. If that day didn’t destroy you then nothing will.”

He smiled at her again slightly. “I don’t know. Still have a couple of pending issues I’m not sure about.”

She shook her head, determined to make him see what she saw. “Those are small potatoes, seriously. Not to minimize what you have to do but it will be nothing compared to that day.”

Logan propped his elbows on his knees and scraped his hands over his face. “Yeah, okay.”

“And I’ll be here for you. Whatever you need, Logan. Okay?”

He rocked his head to look at her. “Okay.”

Marigold gave him a brilliant smile. “But for now, I think you really need some beauty sleep.”

Brows furrowed, he stared at her incredulously. “Beauty sleep? Really?”

She pressed a kiss to his quirked lips. “Yes. Crawl in.”

Moving off the mattress she lifted the sheets for him to settle in, then she draped the blankets over him. Very quickly she ran to the bathroom and used the facilities, then came back. Circling the bed she slipped into the other side, snapping off the light, her tummy fluttering at being so close to him this way. She wasn’t normally one to invite a man to spend the night, but Logan was different. Very different.

Rolling to her side, she looked at him in the darkness of the room. His profile was just barely visible.

It seemed a little ridiculous considering she’d given him a blow job less than half an hour ago, but this seemed so much more intimate. Reaching out, she wrapped her hands around his right bicep, feeling the strength, and the history of pain, there. “What are you going to do with the information John gave you?”

Logan blinked up at the ceiling. “Not sure, exactly. Want to go get lunch tomorrow with me?”

She was surprised by the offer, and thrilled. “Sure. Where at?” She grinned at the question, knowing the answer.

“I hear there’s a great little restaurant up in Arvada,” he murmured, his voice beginning to slow. “Maybe we can check it out.”

“Sounds good to me,” she agreed, her own lids growing heavy. “I think they’ll be amazing people.”

Sighing heavily, he turned his head and pressed a kiss to her hair. “We’ll see.”

14

The kid was fit to be tied.

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