Page 61 of Bound By Thorns
“What?” Zarek snapped.
Puzzled by their exaggerated response I shrugged, “Just a nick. It’s fine. I don’t think I’m even bleeding anymore.”
They exchanged dreadful looks.
“It’s fine, guys!” I repeated and Zarek cursed under his breath.
Leora dialed a number on her phone and waited. Her eyes scared like a little kid who was about to be scolded.
“This is Doc. Yeah… so… can you get the medical team on standby?” She paused, “Kaylan. GSW.” Another pause. “No, no, she’s fine. Awake, responsive, chatting about—”
“Whoever it is, I’m fine!” I interrupted from the back seat.
“—see she’s fine. Okay… yep… thanks. Also, can you keep this to yourself? Just don’t tell Logan.”
I frowned. What the hell did Logan have to do with this?
Leora hung up and an awkward silence fell over.
Finally, I asked out of curiosity, “Why shouldn’t Logan know?”
Zarek hesitated before finally responding, “He’d bust my balls knowing I allowed you to get hurt.”
An eye roll should have been enough. But it really wasn’t. Besides, a small… okay big… part of me felt giddy at the thought of Logan losing his shit on Zarek.
TWENTY-SIX
Logan
I was pacing outside the garage, every nerve tingling. When Sebastian summoned the medical team, my mind raced—something had gone wrong, and I feared Kaylan was involved. Yet, as the vehicle rolled in and the doors swung open, I couldn’t discern from Zarek and Leora’s somber expressions who it might be. They were unscathed, physically intact, which only heightened my dread for Kaylan.
Then I saw her, slightly hunched and gingerly touching her side, her expression tight with discomfort as she was carefully assisted into a wheelchair—the same one she had so recently cast aside. The sight struck me like a physical blow, reigniting the all-too-familiar cocktail of anger, protectiveness, and helplessness.
“It’s not necessary, I can walk,” she grumbled.
Without a word, the medical team swiftly wheeled her towards the clinic, her back to me, as I stood frozen, watching the growing distance between us, feeling utterly powerless.
Snapping back, I jogged alongside the medical team, hovering until they finished tending to her wounds. Once Kaylan was settled into her wheelchair outside the clinic, I took over, gently pushing her toward the elevator. The familiarity of the action, despite the grim circumstances, brought a bittersweet comfort.
“I missed this,” I found myself murmuring.
“Me, hurt and shoved into a wheelchair?” She responded dryly. The hint of scorn proved terrifying amusing to my heart.
“No,” I gently clarified. “I meant I missed being near you, feeling useful to you.”
It was almost evening, and everyone else was gathering for dinner, but I could see the adrenaline fading from Kaylan, leaving her drained. Without a second thought, I lifted her gently, mindful of her injury, and carried her to her bed, settling her down with care.
After making sure she was tucked in, I gently pressed my lips to her temple.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her eyes widening.
“Just sleep, Chaos. I’ll be right back.”
I headed to the lounge, where the rest of the team was already eating. Zarek and Leora were absent, likely cleaning up after the day’s events. I quietly put together a plate of food, just in case, and carried them back to Kaylan’s room on a tray. By the time I returned, she was asleep, a peaceful expression on her face and the duvet snug around her.
Realizing she might need more than just rest, I went down to the clinic to pick up a first aid kit, just in case she needed her dressing changed later. On a whim, I grabbed a bottle of whiskey, some ice, and a glass.
Back in her room, I settled into the armchair by her bed, whiskey in hand, gazing out the window. The quiet sound of her steady breathing helped calm the storm inside me, each breath she took easing my worries just a little.
