Chapter 34

34

LOGAN

W hen I woke up this morning, and saw a couple of missed text messages from Asher telling me he needed me at the penthouse, the last thing I expected to find when I got here, was him fucking Lincoln's face like a man on a mission. A hot as fuck, could only be stirred up in my mind, sex mission, but here we are.

"Damn, my little psycho, when you invited me over I didn't think it was so you could put on a show," I grin, my eyes dragging over his half-naked form, as he rushes to tuck himself away into his gray sweats.

"Lo, you came," he coughs out, glancing at Lincoln with hesitating eyes, and it's only when I follow his stare, that I notice the bandage taped over his left ribs below his heart, and my smile drops.

"What the fuck happened to you?" I choke, rushing to his side and pressing my hands there.

"Nothing," Lincoln snaps, trying to placate me, as Asher grits, "He was stabbed."

"Stabbed?" I question, looking between them both for answers, and Lincoln glares at Ash as if he is some kind of traitor .

"I'm fine, really," Lincoln starts, trying to push me away so he can sit up. "What are you doing here, I thought you weren't coming home until tomorrow?" He adds in question, and I pretend not to feel hurt at his accusatory tone.

"Asher texted me early this morning, he said I needed to come over, that it was urgent," I say, looking at the man in question, who is still glaring at Lincoln with contempt.

"It is urgent," he snaps, storming around the bed to stand beside me. "The knife didn't hit anything vital from what I can tell, and I cleaned and stitched him up as best I could, but I still thought it would be better to have a professional take a look at it."

I watch them both closely, sensing a change in them, one that warms my heart, despite the temperature in the room plummeting since I arrived. "Well, I'm not a professional yet," I muse, trying to lighten the mood, as I bend down and survey Ash's handy work. "But I'll still take a look, though I'm sure you did a great job."

Asher grabs a discarded first aid kit, as I help Lincoln into a pair of boxers and position him against the headboard, propped up on some pillows. He still looks completely annoyed at being fussed over, but I can tell from the look in his eyes that he is in actual pain. So I'm sure to be gentle as I pull away the tape around his bandages, and then lift the gauze to inspect the wound.

A large, angry, red, jagged wound greets me, and a mixture of anger and worry stir up inside of me. "Which one of you is going to tell me who did this?" I ask, flicking my gaze between them, and Lincoln opens his mouth, and I'm sure like me, Ash senses he is about to try and bullshit me.

"His name was Billy Powell," Asher c uts in before him, a calm and dangerous aura about him now.

"Was?" I push, sliding my fingers along the wound gently, assessing its severity, and admiring the stitches Asher put in, because of course the little psycho knows how to stitch someone up so perfectly.

"Yes, was, I killed him, there's his heart," Ash replies casually, pausing me in my tracks, and I look to him, and then follow his gaze to the bedside table, and sure enough, there bundled up in a jar, is a human heart.

"You cut out his heart? And gifted it to Linc in a jar with his favorite candy?" I ask, shaking my head, before focusing back on Lincoln. "And to think he thought he was hiding the fact he wanted you?" I laugh, and finally Linc smirks.

"Well, we never accused him of being subtle," he jokes, but it quickly turns to a gasp of pain, as my hands continue to inspect his injured side.

"Everything looks okay to me, stitches are neat, I could barely have done them better myself," I say, checking each one meticulously, and trying not to cringe every time he flinches in pain. "I think with some antibiotics to fight off any infections you'll be fine, but I still think we should do an x-ray just to rule out any internal bleeding," I add, and both of them look at one another and communicate something silently.

"This needs to stay between us," Lincoln finally says, looking back at me. "I don't want Elle and the guys involved in any of this, and I can't exactly walk into a hospital, it will risk too many questions."

I know what he's trying to say, without saying it. He wants to keep our family out of it, and that extends to not involving my father or any of the private hospitals we usually go to, which leaves us with very limited options.

Yet before I can come up with anything else, Asher is jumping in. "I'll call Graves, I think the Crows still have someone for stuff like this under the table, and they owe us a favor."

An hour later, we are pulling up around the back of a small veterinary clinic in Fairfield, to find Killian Drake and Ezra Bishop waiting. The Hallowed Crows MC have been quiet since they finally eliminated Carter Fitzgerald, and both them and the Rebels came to an agreement to always have the other's back, yet they don't exactly mingle often.

"No Presidential welcome," Ash drawls by way of greeting, baiting them both as I help Lincoln out of the car, and their enforcer smirks.

"Prez is busy with our girl, but I see you brought both your boyfriends with you," Killian drawls, stumping out his cigarette, and leaning up off the wall.

"Yes, but don't stare too long, Killer, you don't want your VP there getting jealous," Asher smirks, not scared in the slightest about baiting two of the most dangerous men of Black Hallows, not when he is considered one himself.

"Lets all keep our eyes on our own boyfriends and get this over with," Ezra cuts in, moving to knock on the back door of the clinic.

Not even a minute passes before a woman pulls open the door and half peers out from behind it, smiling softly. "Hey guys, come on in." She steps back, holding the door open for us all, and then locking it behind us once we are inside. "This way," she guides us into a small office and gestures for me to lay Lincoln on the bed.

Killian and Ezra stay by the door, yet still their eyes look intrigued as I help Lincoln pull off his shirt to show his wound. The woman, Dr. Aria Harris, pulls over the portable x-ray machine, as I peel away Linc's bandages so she can assess the wounds. From what I'm told, she works under the table for the Crows, often patching them up whenever required for a cash payment. Apparently she is also married to a police officer, and I can 't help but wonder how someone on the right side of the law would end up in a room with all of us.

"Wound looks clean cut and simple, stitches are good," she assesses, prodding it in the same manner I did earlier, but not seeming to care for Lincoln's grunts of pain.

"It was in and out, not too deep. I fought him off and got out of there before it could get any worse," Lincoln informs her, and she nods mindlessly, turning on the x-ray machine and preparing it for him.

Asher is silent as he watches her, his sarcastic smile from outside nowhere in sight, and I frown in wonder, about to ask what's wrong, when he finally breaks the silence. "What happened to you?" He questions darkly, his focus solely on Aria, and she freezes.

It's only then I really focus on her, and notice the bruise under her eyes. It looks to be a few days old, almost out of sight really, but it's definitely there, and of course Asher didn't miss it.

"Rough dog the other day," she replies easily, avoiding his gaze, and focusing back on the x-ray.

"Dogs like that deserve putting down," he replies calmly, not believing for one second that a dog did that to her, and she smiles softly.

"Oh trust me, I know. I'm working on it, and I don't need any help," she snaps in response, then takes her time checking Lincoln's chest, side, and stomach, searching for anything, but she doesn't find it. "Everything looks good, I'd say you're very lucky, just try not to push yourself too hard for a few weeks, let it heal," she tells Linc, who now has that dark look in his eyes, as his focus remains on her, as she prescribes him some meds.

Killian and Ezra head back outside, nodding their thanks and goodbye to Aria, as I help Lincoln back into his shirt and off the table. Then we slowly make our way out of the room as Asher pays her in cash.

"I don't have to open this envelope to know there is too much in it," she huffs, trying to give it back to him.

"It's triple your usual fee, for the inconvenience," Asher drawls, refusing her outstretched hand as he follows us out.

"I work for the Hallowed Crows, I'm always at an inconvenience," she grunts, and I can't help but smirk. "I really don't require the extra," she adds as she reaches the back door and pushes through it, finding Killian and Ezra already back on their bikes.

"Then put it towards getting rid of that dog," Asher tosses over his shoulder, as he walks back to his car. "And if you need help burying it, you know to call us," he adds, before sliding back behind the wheel and slamming the door without another word.

Lincoln and I share a look before we turn back to Aria, and I hold out my hand for her to shake. "Thank you for seeing us on such short notice," I smile, and she just nods and smiles, before slipping back into the clinic, and I hear the telltale sign of the door locking.

By the time we make it back to the penthouse, after picking up Lincoln's meds and some dinner, he is almost out cold. Asher and I help him upstairs and put him to bed, before we head into the kitchen to eat with one another quietly, both of us no doubt feeling the tension of what happened.

This is exactly what I was worried about, Lincoln running off to do what he does and getting hurt. Yes, he escaped with minor injuries in hindsight, but what if he hadn't? What if this Billy had fucking killed him, and I lost him for good when I only just got him?

"He's fine," Asher whispers, breaking the silence, and when I look at him in question, he rolls his eyes, and tentatively takes my hand across the table. "I can see your mind working a hundred miles a minute, worrying about him. He's fine, Lo, you need to relax."

I can't help but look at him and snort, "That's rich, coming from the guy who carved out the heart of the man who stabbed him, and gifted it to him in a fucking jar."

Asher only smirks, shrugging one of his shoulders as he reaches for his drink. "Well, I don't like people playing with my things."

My smile attempts to mirror his, but the image of that wound on Lincoln's side still plagues my mind. "What if the knife would have been just a little higher, a little deeper?" I ask, going over every worst case scenario. "He could be dead right now, we could have lost him, I could have lost him," I force out, swallowing down the emotion now choking me, but it doesn't seem to work. "I can't lose someone else," I add in a whisper, and Ash is up and around the table before I can even take my next breath.

"Lo, you're not going to lose him, I promise. This isn't like your parents, and Lincoln is many things, but he isn't reckless, and I promise I won't let anything happen to him." His stare searches mine, and I know he sees the trauma of losing my parents that always lingers there.

I remember all too well what it was like to be five years old and have my whole world turned upside down. My sister was the only thing I had left, and when we went to the Roytons it took me a while to open up. I spent years getting used to them, falling in love with them, and then when I had, Elle King showed up. All of a sudden my family was changing and growing again, and we've come too close to losing it too many times. Opening myself up to someone like I have with Lincoln and Asher is never something I planned. I was happy to whore around, keeping everyone at arm's length, but they snuck past my defenses and now I have two more people I love to worry about .

"Are you going to cut out the hearts of everyone that hurts him?" I ask, searching his stare, for what I'm not sure.

"If that's what it takes to protect him, then yes," he answers without pause, and it stops me in my tracks, because never did I think he would admit to something so freely. "And if someone lays a hand on you, then they will lose that hand, and then their heart," he adds, leaning down and bringing his head to mine. "We're all in this together now, right, no more running?"

I breathe him in, letting the scent of him wash over me and relax my muscles as I slide my hand into his. "No more running." He slips into the chair next to me and goes back to his dinner, when I finally add, "What about the guy? Billy?"

"What about him?" He asks, flicking his gaze to the side, and my stare widens.

"Well, why did he come after him?" I question, and Asher shrugs.

"I don't know, Lincoln said he sent some sort of threat, through one of the men who was killed in town, before they died, but obviously he is dead now, and so is Billy, so I'm not sure we will ever find out."

I nod over his words, taking some comfort in them as I reply, "I guess you're right, it doesn't really matter. The only thing that matters is that he's dead, and Lincoln is safe."

So why do I still have a sense of dread in the pit of my stomach?