We disconnect the call, and I lean against the wall, trying to ground myself. I've had so much bullshit happen over the last three years. I've had to hide so much of what my life was like before I went undercover, that I don't even recognize it anymore. There's a whistle down the hallway, and I glance up, seeing Ransom. He offers me a slight wave, and I return it. Regardless of which side we publicly stand on, he's still a member of the brotherhood of police. He holds up a finger, indicating for me to wait.
My stomach is full of nerves as I stand in the hallway. Anyone could see us here. There's definitely ways for us to get around someone questioning it, but right now I'm too tired to worry too much about it.
"How's Allison?" He asks, as he gets within a few inches of me.
"She's still asleep. Last night was rough for her, though." I rub at my chin, scratching the growth of hair. "Tell me about Logan. What the fuck is happening with that little piece of shit? I heard a few things from Devil, but I'd like to know from you." I level a glare at him, daring him to lie to me, to make it all seem better or easier than it really is. Having been a member of law enforcement for as long as I have, I know that's the first thing we try to do. De-escalate the family of the person who has been injured.
"Logan was released on bail," he starts, holding up his hand when I growl.
"No, don't hold up your fucking hand. You better be honest with me about what the fuck is going on. The woman I've allowed myself to love is laying in that hospital bed because of that kid." I'm kicking myself, because as a member of law enforcement, as person who has been undercover for as long as I have been, I should've noticed. Whatever was happening. I should've fucking noticed.
Ransom sighs heavily. "Apparently he's a member of the Clark family."
The Clark family. Fuck. My. Life. They came into Laurel Springs around ten years ago. They've put themselves square in the middle of local politics, and there's just something about the patriarch that rubs me the wrong way. "Are you fucking kidding me?"
"I wish I was. As soon as Logan was brought in, his dad and grandfather showed up. They had an attorney with them."
Of course they did. "Were they able to do anything?" If there's one thing I know is for certain, it's that fairness goes out the window when it comes to rich and powerful people. Which is exactly why I got into this business, why I decided to go undercover in the first place.
"We've charged him. Judge signed off on a warrant about an hour ago to head over to their house and toss it."
Running a hand through my hair, I scratch at an itch that I just can't seem to get rid of. "Hopefully they weren't able to get rid of anything that might help get him charged."
"I hope that, too." He reaches out and claps his hand on my shoulder. "Anyway, I wanted to swing by and check on you. Chief wanted to make sure you're okay."
"Wouldn't say I'm okay, but I appreciate it."
"If you need anything, let us know. We'll be around."
It's the same as always. They're around, even when I don't think they are, but I've learned in more ways than one that I'm the only person I can count on. "Thanks, see ya later."
He leaves, and when I look into Allison's room, I realize something that I didn't before. She can count on me, too. Because I'm ready to kill for her, and this kid isn't arrested for good soon, I'm going to prove just how much she means to me.
Three
Allison
It's dark in the room I'm in. Not so dark I can't see what's around me, but like the sun is behind the clouds. Blinds are drawn, or curtains, but in the background is the steady thump of what sounds like a heart monitor. Why do I hear a heart monitor?
My eyes are heavy as I try to open them, and when I go to lift my arm something prevents me from lifting it the whole way. That's when I realize there's something attached to my hand.
"Allison, don't move so quick. You're okay."
That's it. The voice of the man who has pulled me from actual darkness more times than I care to count since we met one another. "What happened?" I ask, but my voice is so rough it's as if I'm speaking through a throat full of gravel. "Where am I?"
He goes over to the window and opens the blinds. Now that the sun is shining in, I see that I'm in a hospital room. There's a IV in my hand, and that's why I can't lift my arm up too far.
"Is anything starting to come back for you?" He asks softly, before he comes over and has a seat on the bed.
I close my eyes, and fear envelopes me in a way I haven't experienced in years. "Maybe. I don't have a good feeling." He doesn't say anything, just allows me to keep my eyes closed, and I search in my memories for whatever this is. Then it's as if I open a door, and I'm taken back to my classroom. "Logan," I gasp.
"Yeah."
It's one word, but it says everything. The way it's pulled from deep within his chest and throat tells me more than anything how much this has hurt him. "I'm okay," I say quickly, reaching out to take his hand.
"Don't." He leans forward, putting his forehead to mine. "Don't say you're okay when I slept here last night and heard you. More than once, I might add, yell out in your sleep. This scared you, and I'm not saying it scared you more than it should, but..." he pulls back, trailing his finger down my face. "You've been hurt before?"
I nod, because it's all I can do. Tears pool in my eyes, I can feel them gathering. "I have," I whisper, sniffling.
