14. Jared

FOURTEEN

Logan isan angel when he's asleep. His reddish-brown hair flops over his forehead, his eyelashes fan out across his slightly ruddy cheeks, and his lips have just the slightest curl like he's having the most delightful dream.

I don't deserve him.

Our middle-of-the-night conversation comes back to me. There were a few moments when he looked so sad it felt like my heart was being torn from my chest. I did that to him. Logan is brightness and sunshine and I stole that from him because I was too much of a coward, too selfish to come clean.

And yet he was so understanding, so forgiving. He wasn't angry. He didn't storm out. He would've been justified in calling me the world's biggest asshole and demanded that I stay the fuck away from him. But instead, he's spent the night with me. He wants us to start over. A clean slate. A second chance.

I won't fuck it up this time. No matter what I have to do or how much I have to ingratiate myself, I'll make it up to Logan. I promise.

Beside me, Logan stirs and I watch, waiting for those lashes to lift and reveal his dark green eyes. I love the color. At first glance, they look brown, but when I'm close like this, or when the sunlight shines just right, the greens come out in a beautiful sparkling kaleidoscope.

"Hey." Logan's voice is groggy with sleep and I let the sound of it wrap around me like a warm blanket.

"Hi."

He stretches, pushing himself into a seated position. "Have you been awake long? Has anyone been by yet?"

"No, not yet."

He hops off the bed and works through a few more stretches. "Are you hungry? Uncomfortable? In pain? Can I get you anything? Should I call for a nurse?"

Just then, my bladder makes itself known. "I, uh, could use a trip to the bathroom?"

Logan's eyes go wide. "Oh! Yeah!" He runs around to the other side of the bed, the side closer to the bathroom. Then he hesitates. "Uh, how should we do this?"

"Help me up?"

Logan wraps his arm around my shoulders to help me sit up straight. My ribs protest the movement, but the sharp pain is quick to fade. Then my legs get tangled up in the blankets, and Logan lets out the cutest growl as he pulls the fabric away and dumps it all at the foot of the bed.

"Okay, I've got you." Logan sidles in under my arm, grasping around my waist to take some of my weight.

Gradually, I ease myself off the bed and onto my good leg. Then, with my free hand using the IV drip stand as a crutch, we make our way slowly across the room. They must be pumping the good stuff into my veins because, despite the hole in my thigh, it's not too bad.

Logan pushes the bathroom door open and holds it for me as I maneuver myself and the IV drip stand inside. "Do you need any help in here?" he asks matter-of-factly, without a hint of discomfort or embarrassment.

I flash him a grateful smile. "No, I think I can manage this part on my own."

His cheeks go a little pink, the only hint that holding my dick for me while I pee might be an awkward and utterly unsexy thing to do. "I'll be right outside. Yell if you need me."

The door closes with a snick and I push the flimsy hospital gown out of the way to do my business. After my bladder is empty, I even manage to hobble to the sink to watch my hands.

Logan knocks when he hears the water turn on. "You done? Can I come in again?"

"Yes!"

We repeat the slow progress back to the bed and I hate to admit it, but that little trip tires me out. I perch myself on the edge of the bed to catch my breath.

"You okay?" The concern on Logan's face is plain.

"Yes, come here." I pull him to me, looping my arms around his waist and resting my head on his chest. My eyes drift shut as I soak him in. "Thank you."

"No problem!" Logan responds cheerfully. "The doctor said it would take a while for your leg to heal. I'm happy to be your human crutch until then."

"No." I lean back just enough to gaze up at him, then pour all my gratitude and adoration into my words. "I mean, thank you for being an amazing human being. You're so much better than I deserve and I promise to spend the rest of my life making sure you don't regret giving me a second chance."

Logan brackets my face with his hands, his fingers ghost over my bruises. His eyes twinkle in the early morning sunlight spilling in through the window. "I'm not just giving you a second chance. I'm giving us a second chance."

My heart swells with love and I feel even less worthy of his affection. If I didn't know him, I wouldn't believe that such a generous and giving person could exist. He's a miracle. A marvel. A wonder.

I lean up and he meets me halfway in a gentle kiss. I'm in no condition for sex—I think my dick has curled up for a winter's worth of hibernation—but kissing Logan sends a wave of comforting warmth through me.

His tongue slips out for a teasing lick and it draws a moan of pleasure out of me. When I open for him and he slides his tongue between my lips, a shiver of delight zips down my spine.

Kissing Logan erases all traces of aches and pains. It drives away all thoughts of fugitives on the run and criminals wreaking havoc upon the world. When his lips are on mine, nothing else matters but him and me and the magic we create together.

My hands slip under the hem of his shirt and I flatten my palms against the heat of his skin. He mewls and his fingers run carefully through my hair. I want to feel him pressed against me, his body fitting into mine. I want to get as close as two people can possibly get, and then a little bit closer still.

I came so close to losing Logan. Now I don't want to let him out of my sight, or even out of arm's reach. I want to hold him forever and never let go.

"Ahem, I thought you were supposedly on death's door?"

Logan jumps at the amused and slightly annoyed voice. His hand flies to his reddened lips as he spins around to face Victoria. I groan and send her my "go away" glare. It doesn't work.

"Um, I was, uh, we were…" Logan stammers adorably and I step in to save him.

"It's okay, babe. Victoria's just teasing."

She smirks at me and saunters into the room. Her long coat falls open to reveal her neat button-down and shiny badge clipped to her belt. Her shoes click, sure and decisive, against the floor. In her hand is a cardboard tray with three paper cups that better contain coffee.

"Well, at least one part of you is up and kicking." Victoria's smile is smug as she sets the tray down on the hospital table and pulls out each of the cups.

"Shut up," I say, even as I gratefully accept a cup of the dark brew.

Logan stands next to me, eyeing the cup I'm holding like it's a venomous snake. "Um, should you be drinking caffeine?"

I love the man, but he's not taking away my coffee. I give him my best petulant look.

"I brought one for you, but if caffeine is off the menu…" Victoria takes the unclaimed cup and sticks it back into the cardboard tray.

Logan's eyes go wide at her unspoken threat. "Oh, um, I guess one cup couldn't hurt?"

Victoria tortures him for a beat before pushing the tray toward him. Logan snatches up the cup and starts backing toward the door.

"I'll, um, go see if I can round up some breakfast. You know, to balance out the caffeine and stuff. Thanks!" He scurries out of the room.

Victoria watches as the door slowly swings closed. "I think he's scared of me."

I snort. "Everyone's scared of you."

She smiles, pleased with herself. "Mission accomplished." Then she grows somber. "How are you feeling?"

I take a big gulp of coffee before even trying to answer. "I've been better."

She nods understandingly. That's what I've always liked about Victoria. She reads between the lines without me having to spell it out for her.

"This sucks." She commiserates.

"Yup."

"So…"

From the tone of her voice, I already know I won't like what she has to say.

"The gunmen we arrested from the car chase and the industrial complex aren't talking. They're more afraid of Alonzo than they are of us."

I grimace. "I don't blame them."

"And the leads we picked up aren't quite as promising as we hoped. There's still a chance that one of them pans out, but…"

"Fuck."

"Yeah."

We sit in silence for a moment, letting that sink in. Alonzo wasn't named one of the most dangerous criminals in the world for no reason. He excels at what he does—doing bad shit while not getting caught. That's why it took me two fucking years to bring the guy down.

"Isaac and I were talking…"

"Hold on," I interrupt her. "I need to lie down for this." Because I know what they were talking about and I'm really not going to like it.

She takes my half-empty coffee cup and helps me adjust the bed so I'm propped up with pillows stuffed behind me. She pulls the blanket up my legs and hands my coffee to me again. I take a sip, then drop my head back.

My heartbeat is elevated, even though Victoria hasn't laid out the plan yet. Panic flutters in my chest and my head starts to throb. That's how much I'm dreading what she has to say next. Maybe Logan was right about the coffee; caffeine might not be the best idea at the moment.

Breathe.

Victoria waits until I give her the okay. "Shoot."

She doesn't beat around the bush. "We think we need to lay a trap for him."

Yup, there it is. The terrible idea that is, unfortunately, the best one we've got.

"You would be the most obvious bait."

Breathe.

"But! We obviously can't put you in the middle of that kind of situation when you haven't been cleared for field duty yet."

"But the longer we put this off, the less likely we'll be able to catch Alonzo at all."

Victoria doesn't respond. She doesn't have to. We both know I'm right.

Breathe.

I stare at a spot on the ceiling where there's a bit of water damage. Our two options aren't really options at all. Either I put myself in Alonzo's crosshairs, knowing full well that I'm just as likely to get killed as we are to catch the bastard. Or I play it safe and let Alonzo walk free so he can resume terrorizing the world.

I didn't sacrifice two years of my life just to end up where we started. What was the point of going through all that if we do nothing to stop him now? Besides, who's to say he won't come after me again? Or Logan?

No, I can't lie here and let him get away. If there's a chance, no matter how slim, of catching him, we have to try.

I take a deep, steadying breath. "I'll do it. I'll be the bait."

"What bait?"