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When I woke up again, Dr. Patel was back with discharge papers and a sling for my arm. Logan helped me into it gently, like he was trying not to break me.
The meds they’d given me made everything feel hazy, like I was floating just above reality. Logan draped his cut over my shoulders and guided me out of the hospital.
–
I blinked, trying to adjust to the sunlight, and that’s when I saw them the whole club, waiting outside, their bikes taking up a third of the parking lot.
When they saw us, whistles and hollers filled the air, and I felt tears well up in my eyes.
Jake stood by his truck with the engine already running. “Let’s get you home,” he said, nodding toward the passenger seat.
As he said it, the club started their bikes, and the rumble vibrated in my bones. It jostled my shoulder, but I didn’t mind. It really did feel like home.
Logan helped me in, his hand lingering on my back like he wasn’t ready to let go. The ride back was quiet, and I fell asleep with my head on his shoulder.
When we got to the clubhouse, Logan carried me inside like I was something fragile. The motion tugged at my stitches, but I didn’t care – his arms felt safe.
He started to head toward the stairs, but I stopped him. “No, let’s stay down here for a while. Please?”
“Whatever you want, Ace.”
“To the bar!” I shouted, pointing toward it with my good arm. “Onward, trusty steed!”
Logan chuckled, setting me down gently on a stool at the bar. His hands lingered on my waist like he was afraid I might topple over.
“Trina,” I called, leaning forward. “Can I get a shot of whiskey, please? I think I’ve earned it.”
Logan’s grip tightened on my hips, and I glanced up to see his brow furrowed. “No,” he said firmly. “You’re on pain meds, Ace. No alcohol.”
I pouted, though it was more for show than anything. “Come onnnn. One shot won’t kill me.”
A faint smirk tugged at his lips, and he glanced down at my shoulder. “You already had one shot.”
I laughed. “And it didn’t kill me! So what’s one more?”
He shook his head. “We’re not testin‘ that theory,” he said, leaving no room for argument. He turned to Trina. “Get her a glass of water.”
17:38 Wed, Dec 31
Chapter 55
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Trina smirked, pouring a tall glass of ice water and sliding it toward me. “Here you go, honey. Whiskey’s overrated anyway.”
I sighed dramatically but took the glass, secretly grateful for it. I was parched. “You’re all ganging up on me,” 1 muttered, but I couldn’t help but smile.
The club started gathering around the bar, their voices rising in a chorus of “Welcome back!” and “Glad you’re okay!” Monty clapped me lightly on the good shoulder, his grin wide. Scarlett leaned against the bar next to me, her elbow nudging mine.
“You scared the hell out of us,” she said, her voice softer than usual. “Don’t do that again, okay? Just let them shoot my brother next time.”
I laughed, but it made my shoulder hurt and I winced. “Not gonna happen,” I murmured.
I glanced up at Logan, and his green eyes were watching me with that intensity that always made my stomach flip. He looked tired – exhausted, really.
“You okay?” I asked softly, nudging his arm with my good elbow.
He shrugged, but his jaw flexed like he was holding back words. “Yeah,” he said finally. “Just… glad you’re here.”
I smiled, reaching for his hand under the bar. His fingers tangled with mine, warm and rough, and I felt a little more grounded. “Me too.”
Monty leaned over the bar and snagged a bottle of whiskey, pouring himself a shot. He raised it toward me, his grin sharp. “To Hailey,” he said, his voice carrying over the noise. “The baddest of us all. Been here a week and she’s already in the bullseye club.”
The club erupted in cheers, raising their drinks. I felt my cheeks heat up, but I was grinning.
“What’s the bullseye club?” I asked Logan when the noise died down.
“Not a club I wanted you to join,” he muttered.
“It’s just what we call the Warriors with bullet wounds,” Monty cut in with a smirk. “Logan’s just mad you joined before he did.”
The evening wore on, and the clubhouse stayed alive with energy. I sipped on my water, looking around the room at the people I’d grown close to in such a short time. It was perfect — just like this. Family. Home.
–
But as the hours passed, the pain in my shoulder got sharper. Logan noticed before I could say anything, and he leaned down to me.
“You need to rest, Ace,” he murmured. “You’ve been through hell.”
I wanted to stay here with everyone, but I knew he was right. My body felt heavy and my eyelids were drooping. “Okay.”
He lifted me into his arms again, carrying me toward the stairs despite my weak request to walk by myself. He didn’t stop until we were upstairs, where he set me gently down on the couch.
17:38 Wed, Dec 31
Chapter 55
He disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a glass of water and a handful of pills. “Take these,” he said, holding them out.
I swallowed them down as he settled next to me, his fingers running up and down my good arm. “You need anything?” he murmured.
I shook my head, leaning into him. “Just you.”
He smiled softly, pulling my legs up into his lap. “Alright, Ace.”
—
We spent the rest of the evening like that him waiting on me hand and foot, bringing me food, adjusting the blankets, and rubbing my feet whenever I winced in pain.
We had a movie playing in the background, but I wasn’t really paying attention. My mind kept drifting, thoughts swirling like leaves.
Eventually, I broke the silence. “Logan.”
He paused the movie, turning to look at me. “Yeah?”
I took a deep breath, my fingers twisting in the blanket. “Can we…” I started. “I want to go home. To see my mom and sister. I… I haven’t seen them in years. I haven’t even… Matt cut me off from…”
Logan nodded, squeezing my knee. “Yeah. Absolutely. We’ll go, whenever you’re ready.”
I smiled, leaning back against the pillows. For the first time in a long time, the thought of home didn’t fill me with dread. Maybe it was the meds, maybe it was Logan’s steady presence. But I felt… hopeful.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
