26. Jared

TWENTY-SIX

I waketo the sound of soft voices. A man and a woman. Listening for a moment, I try to make out what they're saying, but they're too quiet.

I blink, and for the first time in a long time, it doesn't feel like my eyes are glued shut. My brain is less foggy than it has been too.

At the foot of the bed are Victoria and Isaac, but Logan's nowhere in sight. That's weird. He's been here every single time I've floated toward consciousness. Always right beside the bed, holding my hand—sometimes in it with me.

"Lo—Logan?"

Victoria and Isaac immediately turn their attention to me.

"He just stepped outside to talk to his friends," Victoria says. "The dudes from the gym he works at."

They came? I shouldn't be surprised. From everything Logan's ever told me about them, they're like one big happy family. They must've been worried sick with him gone for so long. Of course they came to see if he was okay.

"I'll go get him," Isaac says, heading for the door.

Logan bursts in a second later. "Hey! You're awake!"

I smile at the sight of him. His hair is disheveled. His normally smooth cheeks are a little prickly from days without shaving. His green eyes look more tired than they should. But there's a lightness about him that warms me from the inside out.

I reach for his hand and a sense of rightness comes over me when our palms touch. "I feel like I've been sleeping for a decade."

Logan smiles, bright and joyful and beautiful, and scrunches up his nose. "Only three days."

I chuckle. Or at least, I try to. Instead, a tickle at the back of my throat has me coughing. "Dry."

Victoria's there with a cup of water and Logan helps me lift my head so I can drink from the straw. When I'm done, I clear my throat.

"That's better. Thanks." I wave at the bed's controls. "Can you…?"

Logan knows exactly what I mean and he quickly adjusts the bed so I'm tilted up at an angle. It makes it easier to look around the room without having to crane my neck.

"You gave us one hell of a scare," Isaac says.

"I could say the same to you," I shoot back. "Where the hell was backup when we needed it?"

Logan sends a glare in Isaac's direction too, obviously declaring whose side he's on. Isaac has the decency to look contrite.

"That's fair. We underestimated Adams, it's true. But that won't be a problem anymore."

I have a vague sense of what happened at the end there. Victoria and Logan have tried filling me in during my short bouts of lucidity. But this is important enough that I want a second confirmation.

"He's dead?" I ask, dread weighing heavy on my chest.

Isaac nods. "He's dead."

The weight lifts, slowly, ounce by ounce. Alonzo Adams is dead. He will never be able to terrorize humanity again. I'll never have to worry that he'll escape from prison. Logan won't have to keep looking over his shoulder, afraid that Alonzo will come after him.

"Good." There's a finality to my voice that stuns even me. I'm not one to celebrate anyone's death, not even a criminal's, but in this case…

Logan squeezes my hand and when I turn to meet his gaze, I see the same resolve in his eyes.

It's done. It's over. We're free.

"We'll need to get you debriefed ASAP," Isaac continues.

Logan turns his glare back to Isaac, fierce enough that Isaac takes a half-step backward. "He just woke up and he's got two bullet holes in him. Can't it wait?"

Isaac cocks an eyebrow at Logan's protectiveness, and Victoria tries to hide her smirk.

"It doesn't have to be today," Isaac says, voice flat. "But no, it can't wait. The sooner it's done, the sooner we can get this case wrapped up."

I squeeze Logan's hand this time. "It's okay, babe. I want to get it over with." What I don't say, not in front of Victoria and Isaac, is then I can focus on being with Logan, on rebuilding a life with him.

Logan doesn't need me to say it though. I can tell from the smile he gives me, from the way his eyes shine brilliant green, that he understands. This is our second chance. This is our new beginning.

Stairs are not my friends. In fact, I hate them. Despise them. Burn them all down.

"Almost there!" Logan's arm around my waist is steady and strong as he helps me up the last flight to his apartment. "You can do it!"

"I'm not your personal training client," I bite out as I use him as a crutch to get up another step.

Let me tell you, if you're ever going to get shot, pick the arm or the leg—don't get both.

"And I'm not a personal trainer!" He chirps back at me with that same upbeat tone. Goddamn it.

I can't stay grouchy when he's so unerringly positive.

Logan's been nothing but supportive and attentive in the two weeks it took for me to get discharged. It didn't take that long when I only had the thigh wound. But apparently, ripping open said wound, acquiring a second wound, plus the accompanying extreme blood loss made things a little more complicated.

"Are you sure you won't let the Bureau spring for a hotel?" Victoria asks from behind us. "Elevator. Room service. The works."

"No," I growl. I've been looking forward to returning to Logan's apartment. Small and cozy, warm and comforting. It's the closest thing to home I have and there's nowhere else I want to be. If Logan will let me, I plan on never leaving.

"One more!"

I hop up the last step to the landing in front of his apartment. Logan steadies me as I lean against the wall and he hurries to unlock the door. Then I manage to hobble inside on my own.

"How the hell will you make it to your physio appointments like this?" Victoria shuts the door behind her and eyes me skeptically.

"I'll figure it out," I say, gritting my teeth.

The FBI's put me on medical leave for the foreseeable future. There's even a question of whether I'll be able to return to field duty if I don't regain full use of my arm. That news left me dazed for half a day until I realized I wasn't as upset about it as I should be.

I've enjoyed working with the FBI. I'm good at my job. But like I told Logan, I kind of fell into law enforcement by accident. I took the opportunity that was in front of me—but is it really what I want to do with the rest of my life? I don't know, but it's also not a decision I need to make right now.

Either way, I'm going to be just fine. Because the most important thing is not where my paycheck comes from, but who I share my life with.

I collapse on the couch, covered in a sheen of sweat. Logan bustles around, taking my coat and hanging it up, grabbing me a glass of water. Victoria sets my bag down next to the door and surveys the small apartment.

"Cute."

I glare at her, daring her to say anything disparaging about Logan's place. She quirks her lips in a half-smile and wisely stays silent.

"You want anything, Victoria?" Logan asks as he pulls a pitcher of cold water from the fridge.

"No, I'm good. Thanks. Just wanted to make sure you guys got home okay. I'm going to take off."

"Thanks so much for driving us home." Logan hands me my glass, then goes to give Victoria a hug.

The two of them have been spending a lot of time together since I've been in the hospital. It's been hilarious watching Logan wrap Victoria—the scary FBI woman, as his friends call her—around his little finger. But then, he's hard to resist—I know firsthand.

"I'll check back in a couple days." Victoria waves and lets herself out.

"Babe, come here." I hold out my good arm to him.

Logan hovers in the middle of the room, like he's not sure whether he's allowed to sit down.

"Come here," I say again, then tack on. "I need you."

That always does the trick.

His eyes go soft as he joins me on the couch. I drag him to me, tucking him into my side. He snuggles right in and I sigh. Holding him is the best medicine in the world.

He settles his head on my good shoulder and I rest mine on top of his. My eyes drift shut as I savor the weight of him, his body fitting so perfectly into mine, his sweet and tangy scent.

"I love you," I murmur into his hair.

He tilts his head up. "I love you too."

I catch his lips with mine. Soft. Pliable. His tongue sneaks out and I meet it with my own. A spark of electricity zings through me.

For the first time in weeks, my dick comes to life, stirring with interest. Heat pools in my groin and my stomach clenches with desire.

I adjust my hold on Logan, deepening the kiss so I can lick into his mouth. He whimpers, fingers clinging to my shirt.

Fuck, I've missed this. I've missed him. Having him all to myself without the rest of the world intruding on us. Being this close, this intimate, and taking our time.

I want to taste him. I want to be inside him. I want to revel in the soul-deep connection I've ever only felt with him.

His hand trails down my front, landing on my hard cock. He gives it a nice firm squeeze and my cock throbs in response.

It's been too long. Even a single day without Logan's naked body pressed against mine is unacceptable. I'm never going to let that happen again.

"I had this whole evening planned," Logan murmurs against my lips when we finally come up for air. He massages my cock through my pants. "Dinner, movie, sponge bath."

I growl at the thought of Logan running a warm wet washcloth all over my body.

"But maybe we should skip right to the end."

"What's at the end?" I ask, knowing I'll like his answer.

"Welcome home sex."

I smile and Logan's breath hitches. "Definitely skip right to the end."

Logan gives me another breathtaking kiss. "In that case, welcome home."