Logan shoved the car door open and managed to get himself out, which was a feat in itself considering how shaky his legs were. Gripping the side of the car, he held on to it for a moment as everything started to spin around him. He felt like shit, and before he knew that it was going to happen, Logan grabbed his stomach, and threw up all over the concrete floor.

“Shit, Logan, are you okay?”

As Cole’s words hit his ears, Logan’s stomach convulsed a second time, and whatever was left inside him came out exactly as the first round had.

Jesus… What the hell is going on?

“You’re a goddamned mess,” Cole said as he wrapped his arm around his back and clutched his waist.

Logan’s head hung down and his hair flopped in his eyes as the stress, the shock, and fuck, everything else finally took its toll.

“Upstairs. Come on. We need to get you upstairs.” Cole pulled him up until he could sling his arm over his shoulders.

Logan brought bleary eyes up to his. “’Kay,” he finally agreed.

“Can I just say how grateful I am that you waited until you were outside of the car to do that?”

Logan swallowed a gulp of air at the acrid taste in his mouth. He really did need a shower and, now, his toothbrush and toothpaste. After hobbling across the lot with Cole, he leaned on the wall and waited for the elevator.

When they got inside, one of Cole’s eyebrows rose as he asked, “You going to be okay in here?”

Logan managed a small nod before the elevator took them up to his floor.

Cole got him down the hall and into his condo, and as the door shut behind them, Cole said, “Come on. You need a shower. Then, once you feel up to it, I’ll take you back. I promise. You’ll be there when he wakes.”

Logan staggered into his dark living room, Cole’s words repeating in his head. As he stopped and looked out his balcony doors to a view he thought would forever make him happy, he now found himself wondering if he’d ever know that feeling again.

When Cole had walked farther into his place, Logan finally voiced his biggest fear. “What if he never wakes?”

“He will.”

Logan rounded on Cole and demanded, “What if he doesn’t? You didn’t see him, Cole. He’s hooked up to so many damn machines it was hard to tell where they ended and he began. Fuck, I feel sick again.”

Cole took a step toward him and gripped his shoulder in one hand and his chin with the other. “You okay?”

The question could’ve had many different answers, but all of them were summed up with his quiet, “No.”

“We’re all here for you, okay? For whatever you need. Work is covered. Food is covered. Lena and Mason are going to bring some by. We’re going to get through this, and when Tate wakes up, we’re all going to kick his ass.”

Logan nodded as he sniffed back the tears that wouldn’t stop forming. “Fucking tears. I’ve never cried so much in my whole life.”

Cole pulled him into a tight hug and said into his ear, “You cry as much as you want to. You hear me? It doesn’t do any good to keep shit bottled up. It just finds other ways out. Like through your damn stomach. Right?”

Logan thumped his brother’s back. Cole was right—as usual. But that’s not what truly terrified him.

“I don’t know what I’ll do if he doesn’t wake up. I don’t think I can do this. I mean, this… It’s… It’s—”

“He’s going to wake up.” Cole pulled back, and Logan was shocked to see that his brother’s eyes were glistening. “That guy—he’s a determined one, and he’s a fighter. He fought for you, didn’t he?”

Logan nodded.

“Exactly. So go and shower, lie down for thirty minutes, and then I’ll take you back to him. Deal?”

Logan walked past him, and when he got to the door to his bedroom, he looked back to see Cole walking over to the balcony doors, running a hand through his hair. He’d brought his phone out of his pocket, and as Logan stood there, he heard his brother greet his wife.

“Rach? Hey, how are you?” He paused and then said quite reverently, “I love you so much. Please take care of yourself.”

Yes, if ever there were a time to tell someone, it’s now, Logan thought as he made his way to the shower—alone.

Chapter Seventeen

Beep… Beep… Beep…

What is that noise? Tate thought as he tried to force his eyes open. They felt heavy as lead, and after several attempts, they finally decided to obey and everything around him came into view. A white, blurry view.

He blinked a couple of times, figuring he must’ve been in one hell of a deep sleep, then tried again. He heard the incessant beeping sound around him, and as the fog started to dissipate and the room came into sharper focus, Tate realized that something was definitely not right. In fact, it was very wrong.

There was a throbbing ache down his right side, and one of his arms was wrapped with a bandage, trapped across his chest, holding his shoulder immobile. In the other hand, he had an IV.

An IV… The hospital… The excruciating ache in my shoulder… What the hell happened? Where is Logan?

His eyes searched the room until they skidded to a stop on the back of a short, dark-haired woman—Rachel. He opened his mouth and said her name, but was shocked at the raspy sound that emerged. It didn’t sound anything like him, and “Rachel” had come out sounding more like “Ray.”

The woman standing over by the glass door turned anyway, and as Diana’s face came into view, Tate’s heart stuttered.

What the hell is she doing here? was his first thought, but he quickly pushed that aside as his eyes frantically shifted to the other side of the room.

Nobody else was in there with them. Just him and Diana—in a hospital room.

Jesus, did I fall asleep and wake up in the fucking Twilight Zone? And where is Logan?

“Oh, God. Thank God. You’re awake.” Diana sounded so stunned that it occurred to him that maybe she’d…what? Never expected him to be?

Tate swallowed, about to try to speak again, but his throat felt as though it were on fire—not to mention scratched to shit.

“No, don’t try to talk,” she rushed to say as she walked over to him.

Tate tracked her suspiciously as his pulse started to race and his anxiety level rose. What happened to me? He tried to remember how he’d ended up in the hospital, but he was coming up with nothing, and still…no Logan. Where the fuck is he?

“Your parents just stepped outside. They’re going to want to see you. Oh, and the doctors,” she rambled on.

But when she leaned down to kiss his forehead, Tate managed to grab the wrist she had resting by his hand on the bed. He took it between his fingers, and as she stilled, their eyes connected. It was the first time he’d gotten a clear look at her, and she looked like hell—as if she hadn’t slept for months.

Tate opened his mouth, and as his dry lips parted, he tried to speak. He didn’t care where his parents were. He didn’t even care about seeing the doctors. What he wanted—no. What he needed was to know where Logan was.

Why isn’t he here with me? Did something happen to him?

When nothing came out, he shut his eyes, frustrated at his inability to voice his thoughts. And that was when Diana placed her mouth by his ear.

“Don’t worry. He’s here.” When she raised her head, Tate barely recognized the soft expression in her eyes as she stroked her fingers across his forehead. “He’s been here every day since you arrived.”

Tate frowned, now wondering how long that had been—

“I have to get the doctors. You stay right there,” she told him as she backed away to the door.

Her smile was so genuine that it reminded him of the girl he’d known a long time ago, and it left him thinking that maybe he really had woken up in the Twilight Zone.