not to bother asking. He would only leave when someone I knew came for a visit, but he’d only go as far as the hallway to stand guard.
“They’re discharging you tomorrow. I’ll go home then.”
“But I’m fine. Besides, you’ve got a killer to find. You don’t need to be playing nursemaid when there’s a whole staff here paid to do it.”
Logan was sitting in a chair he’d pulled next to the side of my bed. His feet were resting on the edge of the mattress while he held my good hand in his. His eyes drifted to my throat then away, but not before I saw guilt clouding them. I rubbed one of my fingers against his knuckles, tracing a scab that looked less red each day. No one knew how he bloodied both hands, but Josh said he arrived at the hospital fine but came back bleeding while I was in surgery. Since there were no APBs out on a huge, handsome man who attacked someone and beat them to a pulp, I can only assume he’d punched something repeatedly on purpose.
It was clear he blamed himself for Rowdy Douglas’ attack, but the simple truth was, it was no one’s fault but Rowdy’s. But getting through to this stubborn man was like moving a mountain. He took his job as my man to a whole new level. It was his job to protect me, he’d argued, and that was the end of it. It didn’t matter that no one could have predicted the cell phone we found was his and he’d lost a job because he couldn’t find it.
“What about Chance? Did you find anything in Virginia City?”
He sighed and leaned his head back against the chair, turning his head so he could stare at me. “Coroner can’t find evidence of foul play on Butch or Rip. That’s a dead end.”
“So that leaves the DNA on the bones and tissue you found or another murder? Does he really have to kill again in order for you to catch him?”
Logan’s eyes flickered at my comment and he sat up, muttering, “Shit, I forgot.”
“What?”
He raised his finger to give him a second and he turned on his phone. He swiped through his messages until he found one and opened it. Then he turned an image toward me. It was a flyer about two women who had been murdered in Twin Bridges. He moved it closer so I could get a good look. “Do you recognize them?”
I glanced at both. They looked vaguely familiar. The younger woman was pinging for me more than her mother. I searched my memory trying to place them, but nothing came to me. If they were connected to Chance, I didn’t know how.
“Did you ask Mac Macey? If there’s a connection to the Bear family, he would know.”
“That was the plan until . . .”
I snorted at him. He was afraid to bring up my attack for fear I was too fragile to deal with it. “Until that dickweed lost his mind?”
His jaw clenched.
“Logan, I’m fine. He’s dead thanks to Max, so there’s nothing to be afraid of.”
He studied me for a moment then moved to the bed and gently lay down beside me, pulling me slowly and gently into his arms so my ribs and incision wouldn’t scream at me. “I’m not okay,” he grumbled into the top of my head. “I spent five hours thinking you might die. Give me a year or two to recover.”
I rubbed my cheek against his chest and covered his heart with my hand, patting him gently. We lay like that for a long time. Me soothing him while he stroked my hair and kissed my head. I tilted my head back when he grew still and found his eyes closed. I couldn’t be certain, but I didn’t think he’d slept much since I was moved to my room after surgery.
Reaching up with my injured hand, I ran the only finger that hadn’t been broken across his jawline, stopping at his lips. He hadn’t kissed me since I’d woken up. Too many lines and tubes at first. I was down to a single IV now and had more mobility, so I stretched my neck until I reached his lips and touched mine against his, whispering, “I love you,” against them.
His eyes fluttered open and he stared blankly at me for a moment, then they caught fire and he growled, “Thank, Christ,” before claiming my mouth in a searing kiss that