Page 100 of Wrecked for Love
“Huh! Thought they could fight dirty,” Logan said. “But I’m pretty sure Diesel fights dirtier.”
Their banter was the most normal thing in the world, grounding me in the moment when everything else felt like it was spinning out of control. I held Elia’s hand, his grip strong despite the bruises marring his skin. He wouldn’t let me go. Hell, I wouldn’t either.
Logan then said to me, “I’ve got so much to tell you, but it’s all handled. We nailed those sons of bitches.”
I knew who he meant. Armand Voss and Fritzy. Lucien Voss had already met his end, too arrogant to realize how much The Revenants had been playing him. Greed made people blind, and Lucien had fallen on his own sword in trying to grab more than he could handle.
The nurses initially asked me to stay behind, but in Montana, almost everything was negotiable. After some back-and-forth, they finally let me in.
“Thanks,” I muttered, relieved.
They stopped Logan, though. He could only shoot me a look as he was left waiting behind.
One of the nurses smirked. “We’ve been in contact with Buffaloberry Hospital. Heard about a patient who made a break for it.” She winked. “I’m letting you in because I don’t want that happening here.”
I could imagine it—a missing patient could probably cause a full lockdown in Buffaloberry. Elia just shrugged, a faint smirk on his face like he wore the incident as a badge of honor.
But eventually, I had to let Elia go as the doctors took over, leading him into one of the ER bays. The curtains swished shut, and I was left standing in the hallway. My fingers found the edge of my sleeve, and I twisted and tugged at the fabric while I strained to make sense of the muffled sounds beyond the barrier, trying to guess what was happening, one breath at a time.
Logan sent me a text:That dog, Bobo, is still out of control.
I replied:Log, do everything you can to stop the Great Falls Police from putting him down. Please. That dog is a sweetheart. I’ll be there as soon as I can to pick him up.
He responded:Let me see what I can do. I’ll fetch the mutt myself if I can. Hopefully, by then, he’ll be too exhausted to try and eat me alive.
I sent him one last message:Get Mr. Gunn to help you.
I tucked my phone inside my pocket, praying.
Minutes felt like hours. Then, a doctor finally appeared, giving me a brief nod as he explained Elia’s condition. The checks had been thorough, the nurses had done their work, and Elia was being moved to a room. Some of his wounds had reopened, but he was stable. It was a small victory. His body still had to heal, but at least it wasn’t life-threatening anymore.
Once Elia was settled in his room, they allowed me back in. I slipped into the chair beside his bed, watching him like a hawk, not daring to relax.
His eyes fluttered open, and a weak grin spread across his face. “See? Still here.”
“Yeah, tough guy! But this time, no more running off,” I warned. The tenderness crept in despite myself. I couldn’t stay mad at him, not when he looked like this.
He chuckled, but the movement made him wince. “No promises,” he rasped, his eyes half-closed.
I brushed a hand through his hair gently. “For your information, the nurses are onto you. They wouldn’t hesitate to cuff you to the bed if you try anything.”
Elia attempted to respond, but pain flickered across his face. I leaned closer, running my fingers along the edge of his bandaged hand.
“Hey,” I whispered, “it’s over. You don’t have to fight anymore.”
His gaze locked onto mine, those familiar eyes filled with that stubborn spark. “I’ll always fight for you,” he whispered back, the exhaustion evident, as was his need to reassure me. “It’s who I am.”
I bent down and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, lingering for just a moment longer than I should have. “Well, you don’t have to do it alone anymore.”
Elia’s eyes fluttered shut again, his fingers weakly curling around mine. “I know,” he mumbled, his voice faded.
I thought he’d drift off, but then I caught it—a faint smirk playing on his lips despite the bruises that lined his mouth. He looked so stubbornly adorable, like a kitten waiting to be petted but still holding on to his tough guy act.
I raised an eyebrow. “What?”
He didn’t answer, leaving me to wonder. Whatever it was, he clearly wasn’t going to share. Typical Elia. Even when he was down, he still found a way to keep me guessing.
His eyes fluttered open just a fraction, like he was testing me, waiting to see what I’d do next. I bit my lip, holding back a smile. Slowly, I let my fingers dance just above his skin, hovering, teasing, but never touching.
