Biting his bottom lip to hold back the cry that was threatening to leave his chest, Logan remained silent.

“Logan? Can you drive? Do you need me to come down—”

“No,” burst free of his lips, and then he placed a fist to his mouth.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’m on my way,” he said and then hung up before he totally lost it.

As he gazed blankly out his front windshield, Logan’s hands started to shake. He couldn’t seem to remember how to put his car into gear, and he sure as fuck couldn’t see through the tears welling in his eyes.

He swiped a hand over them and gulped in some air. He needed to pull his shit together and get over to the hospital. He just hoped he made it in time.

By the time Logan got across town, parked his car, and rushed through the doors of the emergency room, his state of mind was in complete chaos.

The entire way over, he’d berated himself for not asking more questions like, Why is Tate in surgery? What did he come in with? What time did this all happen? He’d been such a fucking head case when Cole had called that all of the important questions had disappeared from his mind.

After he’d marched through the automatic sliding doors, Cole was standing there to greet him. His face was strained, and his hair was a mess, as though he’d been worrying it all afternoon with his hands. But he took him in a hug and squeezed him tight.

Logan didn’t have the will to do anything other than stand there as his eyes scanned the busy waiting area. It was a miracle in itself that he’d been able to function enough to get himself through the traffic and over here.

“You made it,” Cole murmured in his ear, and when he released him, Logan merely looked at him. “Hey, why don’t you come and sit down. Rachel’s right over here.”

As Cole turned to walk him over to the sitting area, Logan grabbed the arm of his jacket and stopped him.

“Tell me what happened,” he said, his voice sounding foreign, detached, even to himself.

“Why don’t you come and sit down first?”

Logan stepped in until only inches separated them and demanded, “Tell me what happened.”

“I wasn’t there,” Cole explained as he clasped his arm. “I only know what Rachel has told me.”

Logan’s heart was working overtime as it tried to keep up, getting shock after shock. He looked beyond Cole’s shoulder and found Rachel seated in the corner of the waiting room, her arms wrapped around her stomach and her bloodshot eyes glued to him.

“She was there?” Logan asked, not taking his eyes away from her.

“Yeah, she was in a cab about to leave. They just finished checking her for shock, but she insists she’s fine. She wanted to be here when you arrived.” Cole squeezed his arm, but Logan’s eyes were fixated on the haunted ones holding his. “She saw it all happen. Called the ambulance and then called me.”

Without a word, Logan pulled away from Cole and walked past the chairs filled with people to where Rachel was sitting. When he stopped in front of her, he didn’t say anything, but as she stared up at him, her blue eyes brimming with tears, she finally lost it.

She got to her feet, tears falling over her blotchy cheeks. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Logan.”

Logan mechanically wound his arms around her as she continued to cry. He felt numb as he listened to her weep.

“He…he was so happy. Couldn’t wait to get home to you, and then…” She stopped and sucked in a breath, and when she pulled away, Logan swore he could see all of his worst fears in her eyes. They spoke the words she couldn’t seem to manage.

What she’d witnessed was horrific. The pain and fear swirling in those usually sparkling eyes were gut wrenching. It was the kind of anguish one never forgets, and as she covered her mouth, fighting back a sob, Logan knew she’d been through hell. A hell he needed her to tell him about. One he needed her to walk him through so he could understand exactly what had happened to the man he loved.

He touched her cheek and somehow managed to speak. “Will you tell me?”

She took a shaky breath before replying, “Yes.”

Logan took the seat beside her, and when she reached for his hand, he wondered if he was as strong as the tiny woman sitting beside him, because he wasn’t sure he was ready to hear this.

“We had just finished for the day, and Tate… He was getting on his bike to come and see you.”

“That fucking bike,” he muttered, his stomach knotting as he remembered all the times he’d joked about it with Tate.

Rachel nodded and clasped his hand in hers as if she needed the strength of another to get through the rest. “He had his helmet on, thank God, so it protected his head, but the car was going so fast. And before he had time to move, he… He was thrown so far, Logan.”

She chewed her lower lip, and her chin started to quiver. Logan squeezed her fingers, fighting back his own emotions, unable to imagine what she’d seen—and not wanting to.

“I raced over to him as soon as it happened, and he was just lying there in the middle of the street. He wasn’t moving. And I know you aren’t supposed to touch someone, but I…I just couldn’t leave him there.”

Logan’s chest ached to the point where he wondered if his heart could take any more. It physically hurt to hear what she was saying—as if it were splitting in two. But he needed to know more. He needed to know everything. So he clamped his teeth together and kept his mouth shut.

Hold it together, Mitchell. Be fucking strong.

“I took his hand and kept telling him I was there. But he wouldn’t wake up. He just lay there—so still. Then I called the ambulance and Cole, and he said he’d call you.”

When she raised her eyes to his, she shook her head as if she were still in shock. She opened her mouth several times before she said, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should’ve made him take a cab with me. Should’ve warned him—”

Logan couldn’t get his tongue to work to tell her that it wasn’t her fault, so he pulled her into his arms instead.

Tate. His gorgeous, stubborn Tate was somewhere in the hospital, unconscious and fighting for his life. And what am I doing? I’m out here trying not to fall apart.

He saw Cole watching them from the opposite chair and that’s when Logan pulled back and managed to ask Rachel, “Did the paramedics or doctor say anything before they took him back?”

Rachel tried to focus on him through the blur of tears. “Not a lot. I heard them discussing possible broken ribs and a pneumothorax?”

Jesus. This can’t really be happening, can it? Logan shut his eyes and tried to tell himself that everything would be okay. Tate was in surgery. He was in the best place he could be. But no matter how many times he told himself that, the reality was he was fucking terrified.

Letting go of Rachel’s hand, Logan got to his feet like someone in a trance and made his way past Cole, who looked up at him with a question in his eyes. But Logan had no answers, and he wanted some. He wanted to know from the doctors what was going on.

He walked up to the main desk and waited for someone to see him standing there. After several minutes, a young brunette came over to find out what he needed.

“Can I help you, sir?”

Logan nodded and licked his parched lips. “I’d like an update on…” He tried to say Tate’s name but couldn’t get the words out.

“On who, sir?”

He was about to try again when Cole stepped up beside him and said, “On Tate Morrison. He was brought in a little while ago. They took him back into surgery.”

The brunette sat down, and Logan turned to Cole with silent thanks in his eyes. Cole gave a nod of his head, and then their attention was drawn back to the woman in front of them.

“And who are you in relation to the patient?”