Page 83 of Ruthless Rebel

“And how did you come to that false conclusion?” I muse, not taking my eyes off Cassie, just taking the time to memorize everything she is doing. The visits I make out here are already too few and far between, so I have to make every second count.

“Why else would you come all the way out here?” He asks, and I flick my eyes to find him watching me in amusement.

“You mean aside from my best friend and my daughter?” I raise my eyebrows at him in question, and he rolls his eyes, slipping off the couch and making his shirt ride up a little, revealing a slither of hislean stomach, and I quickly avert my eyes.

“When are you going to give in to this tension?” He quips, changing tactics, and coming to lay down on his stomach beside my daughter, leaning on one of his hands, and using the other to gently tickle her stomach.

“You mean the tension you created in your own head?” I snap back, keeping my focus on Cassie, ignoring the goosebumps his proximity evokes.

“Ash, I know you want me, you just haven’t let yourself admit it yet.”

His statement almost makes me laugh, because it’s not a matter of admitting it, it’s a matter of ignoring it. Of forcing it deep down into the darkest corners of my mind, and only bringing it out when I need it. And when I’m this close to him, I don’t need it, I already have it. His presence is like a lighthouse, always guiding you someplace safer, and I can’t put out that light with my darkness. No, I need to stay away from him, and keep pushing him away from me.

“You don’t want someone like me, Lo, trust me,” I reply softly, just as my daughter lets out a giggle from his teasing.

“Your daddy is so silly sometimes, but one day I’ll be your step daddy, and I’ll whip him into place, don’t you worry,” he coos, as if he truly believes that, and my daughter laughs again, lapping up his every word.

Logan Royton, the ultimate dreamer.

This time,when the memory slips away, the pain just intensifies.

Pain. I’m in pain, there is pain everywhere. That is the first thought that registers in my mind as my eyes begin to flicker. I can hear the distant beeping of machines, and the scent of flowers assaulting my nostrils, but my eyes just feel so fucking heavy. I’m not sure where I am, or how I got here, but when I open myeyes, everything is just so bright and blurry. I close them again, trying to let myself adjust, and when they flicker back open, they focus on the green blanket covering me that isn’t mine.

I wrack my brain trying to remember where I am, or how I got here, and when I move my head to the side, more pain crashes through me and I groan. The sound has someone moving on my left, and I think they say my name, but I can’t be sure. Everything feels fuzzy and my mind is disoriented. I try to swallow, but my throat burns and my lips feel dry. Water, I need water. I don’t know if I say those words out loud, but the next thing I know there is a straw at my lips, and I am sipping the cool liquid into my mouth.

When I let my eyes focus, I find Elle’s tired and tear-stained face, watching me with nothing but worry, yet still I’m confused. “Hells Bells?” I croak, finally taking in the room around me and the bandages going down my arms. “Hells Bells, what happened? Where am I?” Her shaking hand slips into mine, and I watch as more tears fall down her face, and I want to comfort her, but I can’t, I’m in too much pain.

Why am I in so much pain?

Why does it feel like there is a hole in my chest?

“Asher,” she sobs, more tears than I have ever seen from her, and I fucking hate it. “Asher, I thought I lost you. I thought I’d never hear your voice again, or hold your hand,” she cries, squeezing my fingers between hers, and it hurts, but I don’t have the heart to tell her. “You’re in the hospital, but you’re okay, everything is going to be okay,” she adds, though it sounds like she is talking more to herself than to me.

My eyes assess the room again, noting we are the only ones in here, and panic takes hold of me, as memories of being beaten flash through my mind. I was at a meeting, no wait, I was taken on my way to the meeting. It was dark and I was alone. No, wait Iwasn’t alone. More pain pulses through my entire body, yet from the cannula in my hand I know they must be giving me something for it, yet still it hurts.

“Elle, what happened?” I breathe out, hating how weak my body feels. “Where is Logan?” I add, knowing he was with me when we were beaten. He was beaten too. First with their fists, and then with the poles, and fuck, it hurt when they attacked me, but it hurt more when they attacked him.

Is he here? Is he still unconscious?

“You were shot, Ash,” Elle starts, trying to wipe away some of her tears, but more keep falling. “The doctor said you will probably need some physical therapy for your shoulder, but you should regain full mobility,” she starts, gesturing towards my right arm. “You have three broken ribs, a perforated eardrum, and a lot of cuts and bruises,” she adds, her voice breaking a little, and it’s now that I notice she isn’t meeting my eye.

“And Logan?” I ask again, making her flinch, but she covers it quickly, slipping her hand from mine, and moving to fix my blankets, while still avoiding my gaze.

“They kept you under for a couple of days, so I had the Deckers take Cassie to their cabin with some of the security guys, I hope that’s okay,” she goes on, standing and moving to the end of the bed to rearrange some flowers on the table there. “I just thought it was best she didn’t see you like this, and wasn’t around for everything that’s going on,” she trails off, her voice cracking again, as she then moves to pour me some more water.

“Elle, where is Logan?”

Her hand shakes as she puts down the jug, moving back to my side, and even though she won’t look at me, I can tell by her face what she isn’t saying.

“Elle, look at me,” I demand, but she shakes her head, tears blinking out of her eyes, and I ignore the agony that wracks my body, as I push myself to sit up, grabbing her hand in mine. “Elle, where is Logan?” I ask, everything in my body burning in pain, but it’s nothing compared to how I feel when her dark, heartbroken eyes finally meet mine, and she shakes her head.

“I’m sorry, Ash, he didn’t make it,” she replies softly, like saying the words out loud kill her as much as they kill me, but she’s wrong, they don’t just kill me, they destroy me.

Any other pain I thought I was feeling is instantly overshadowed by the grief that floods my system, as I drop back down in the bed and press my hand into my chest. No, not him, not like this. Every word, every flirt, every taunt, all of them blur together in my mind, going to war and smashing together like a mountain of regret. I should have given in earlier, we should have had more time, it shouldn’t have ended like this. We needed more time, I needed more time, I needed him.

Something wet hits my cheek, and it’s only when Elle climbs up onto the bed beside me that I realize I’m crying, but any physical pain her presence causes beside me doesn’t even register. My mind flashes with images of him, of the first time we met, of all the times he taunted me, of the smile on his face as he did it. Yet now it’s all tainted with images of him being beaten and crying out in pain, of dropping to the floor and dying while telling me he loves me, and I didn’t say anything back.

Why didn’t I say anything back?

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