Chapter 93
Hailey-
The world became a frantic blur again. Chris and two of the other prospects lifted Leo from the pool table. His head lolled back, and he let out a low groan as they carried him toward the door.
Abby and I moved with them. It was a grotesque dance, with our hands still pressed hard again
Logan was already pulling up to the door with the club’s beat–up white van. River yanked the light flickered on.
“Get him in! Now!” Logan’s voice was a raw command from the driver’s seat.
mach.
pen and the interior
They laid Leo on the bare metal floor. Abby and I scrambled in after him, kneeling on either side and resuming our desperate pressure on the wound.
The van floor was cold and gritty against my knees. River slammed the door shut, plunging us into darkness, and then he was in the passenger seat.
I heard the metallic clang of the front gates being hauled open as Logan slammed the gas pedal down.
The van fishtailed slightly as we pulled out onto the road. We were thrown against the wall as he took the turn too fast.
This was the same van.
It landed in my gut, cold and heavy, right next to the fear for Lec
This was the van they’d used to take the Russian guard. The one they’d tortured. And killed.
The air felt different in here, full of past violence. My gut clenched as I thought of all the bodies this thing must’ve hauled in its lifetime. Both alive and dead.
My eyes adjusted to the gloom and I caught a dark, rust–colored smudge on the floor near my knee.
It was about the size of a quarter. A spatter they’d missed when they hosed everything out. I didn’t know if it was the guard’s blood, or Benny’s, or someone else’s entirely. It didn’t matter. It was a stain from their world.
My world, too, I guess. Leo’s blood wasn’t the first to coat my hands in the past few weeks.
Leo shuddered beneath us, snapping me back to the present. Abby murmured something to him. A nurse’s calm in the face of the storm. “Almost there, Leo. Just hang on.”
I was so thankful for her composure.
Outside, the streetlights strobed through the van’s dusty windows. They flashed across Logan’s tight shoulders, across River’s head as he scanned the road ahead, across Leo’s pale face.
Each jolt of the van sent a new wave of nausea through me. This wasn’t a random act of violence. This was a message, delivered with horrifying precision. Anatoly hadn’t sent a soldier He’d weaponized a scared kid.
He was poisoning everything around us. Turning ordinary things into weapons.
Logan whipped the van into the hospital parking lot, and it pulled me out of my head again.
He’d barely skidded to a stop under the canopy marked ‘AMBULANCE BAY‘ when the automatic doors hissed open team in blue scrubs appeared with a stretcher.
and
a
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“Nineteen–year–old male, stab wound to the right upper quadrant Abby said, her voice suddenly crisp and professional. She rattled off details as they transferred Leo onto the stretcher the time of injury, the fact he’d pulled the blade out, the approximate blood loss.
She was one of them now, and they listened.
In seconds, they were wheeling him inside, and the squeak of the stretcher wheels faded away. Abby went with them, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder at me.
The sudden quiet was deafening.
The van door was wide open. Logan stood rigid, watching the empty hallway where Leo had disappeared. River was already on the phone, presumably updating Jake.
That’s when I saw it clearly. The entire left leg of Logan’s jeans was dark and wet, clinging to his thigh. His wound had reopened.
“Logan,” I said, clearing my throat. He didn’t turn. “Logan, your leg.”
He finally glanced down, as if noticing it for the first time. “It’s fine.”
“It’s bleeding through your pants. It’s not fine. You need to get it looked at. Now.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I’m not gettin‘ poked and prodded while Leo’s in surgery.”
“It’ll take ten minutes,” I insisted, stepping closer. I could see the pain etched around his eyes. He was trying to hide it. “If it gets infected, you’ll be useless. Is that what you want? To be laid up because you were too stubborn to get it looked at?”
He shot me a look that was pure venom, but it was fueled by frustration, not anger. He hated this. The helplessness. The reminder that his body could fail him.
River ended his call and came over, assessing the situation with a glance.
“She’s right, brother,” River said. “Get it cleaned up. I’ll go park the van.”
Logan exhaled, defeated. He gave a curt nod and limped toward the ER entrance. I followed a step behind.
The process was as humiliating for him as I knew it would be. The paperwork, the wait in a curtained–off bay… with no pants on. The young doctor with tired eyes who asked how it happened.
“Work accident,” Logan grunted, not meeting the man’s gaze. Two stitches had ripped clean through, leaving a ragged gash that was seeping steadily.
“It’s already started to heal around the tear,” the doctor said, probing gently while Logan stared clenched.
eiling with his jaw
“Can’t re–stitch it at this point. We’ll clean it, pack it, and bandage it. You need to keep your weight off it. Another week, minimum. Or you’ll end up back here. I’ll get a nurse in here with some morphine before we start-
“I’m fine,” Logan grunted.
“Are you sure? It’s not going to be pleasant-”
“Just do it,” Logan snapped. Then, with a glance at me, he added, “please.”
The ‘please‘ looked like it pained him more than his leg did.
The doctor looked at me then, as if he thought it was pointless to talk to Logan. “You’ll need to change the dressing daily. And he needs to finish this course of antibiotics.” He handed me a paper bag with a prescription bottle inside.
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Logan didn’t say a word during the cleaning and bandaging. Heast endured it. When it was done, he stood up, testing the weight on his leg with a grimace. The bandage was bulky. He’d probably have to ride home in his boxers.
silence/7
The fight had gone out of him, replaced by a weary resignation.
We walked back to the waiting room in
I clutched the paper bag with the
knowing I’d have to fight
Leo.
battle later to get
him to take them.
AD
