Page 50 of Lost King

She giggles, "you shouldn't exert yourself, Quinn. I'm not giving you the chance to talk me into any sexy time. Logan agreed to stay in the room to make sure you make it in and out of the shower without falling." Blowing me a kiss, she steps out the door, closing it behind her.

Now, I'm left staring at my brother's amused face. He chuckles once more. "Come on, man. Let's get your naked ass to the bathroom. Just make sure you keep your dick to yourself."

I glance down and quietly apologize to my dick. Sorry dude. I look at Logan. "I can't help that he hasn't gotten the no-go for launch memo. He has a mind of his own. My disappointment hasn't caught up to him yet."

Sliding my legs over the side of the bed, I use the bedside table for support to help me stand. I'm determined. If in order for me to get some head or some pussy means I need to get better, then I'm going to speed up the process somehow.

Logan reaches to put his hand under my arm.

"Unless I look like I'm about to pass out, let me do this on my own," I tell him steadying myself.

"You got it," he nods knowing I need to do this myself.

With every step, my knees burn and feel like they are about to buckle from the piercing pain, but I grit my teeth and bear through it. I make it all the way to the bathroom before using the wall to lean on while the water warms up. Logan stands just outside the open bathroom door as I step into the shower. The instant the hot water hits my skin I close my eyes, and my shoulders sag. The warmth feels good.

I grab the bottle of shampoo. Finding it painful to apply pressure to my fingertips to open it, I cave and ask for assistance. "Logan?"

"Yeah?"

"Dammit," I mumble to myself, "I can't open the shampoo."

He doesn't say a word. That's one thing about Logan—about all my brothers; they won't make a big fuss out of what has happened. Not that what happened wasn't a big deal, but we won't dwell on it. It happened. I survived. Most important our family is safe.

His hand reaches in and grabs the bottle. With his thumb, he flicks the top open and squeezes some shampoo in the palm of my hand.

As best as I can, I scrub the soap through my hair using mostly my palms. Standing under the spray of water, I let the soap wash down the rest of my body. It's not the best of showers, but I'm feeling invigorated just by being clean. I'm finally able to remove the stench of the Reapers I've been smellin' for days. As soon as I turn the water off, Logan hands me a towel. I feel good, but I'm exhausted, and my stomach growls telling me I'm hungry.

I dry myself then wrap the towel around my waist before stepping out. I wouldn't mind getting a look at my face but there isn't a mirror in the bathroom, so I shuffle out back towards the bed and find some clothes folded in a pile near the foot.

"I had Bella grab you some clothes. Emerson is in the kitchen. She wanted to help your mom make lunch." Logan takes a seat in the chair on the other side of the room.

"I hope I can keep some food down because my stomach feels like it's about to eat itself. What are my ladies cookin' up today?" I ask. Grunting, I lifted my foot and try to figure out how to pull up my pants without my sore fingers catching on the fabric.

Logan stands, "your mom is showing her how to make your favorite." Without asking, he kneels and pulls my pants up to my knees, "stand up, brother." Placing my hand on his shoulder, I push myself to stand. Because I'm going commando Logan turns his head to avoid being dick slapped and pulls them up the rest of the way. He doesn't miss a beat and moves the conversation along. "She's showing her how to make BBQ meatloaf. The other women are seeing after all the kids since they finally get to play outside."

Emerson couldn't be more perfect. "Perfect."

"What do ya say we wrap those ribs and go upstairs?" Logan reaches over and snatches a clean elastic bandage from a shelf beside the nightstand. After he finishes, I carefully pull a white shirt over my head, and we make our way up the stairs leading to the common room.

It finally dawns on me as we pass the room we sometimes have to handle unethical business in that I haven't inquired about what became of the Reapers, or anything to do with the club finding me. "When do I get the deets on what went down the other night?" I ask as we climb the stairs. By the time we've reached the top my knees are on fire again.

"Soon, brother," he doesn't elaborate any further.

As soon as I clear the last step and move further into the room, the sound of my sister squealing my name catches my attention. Peering across the room, I watch her run towards me, and I brace for impact. She slams into my stomach and throws her arms around my waist. I have to catch my breath. "Hey, KitKat," I say through a grunt.

"Realizing I'm in pain she quickly releases her hold on me. "Oh my gosh, I'm sorry," her eyes fill with tears.

"Come here," I hug her. "Don't apologize, and don't you dare cry."

"I was—" she hiccups through sobs, "I'm so glad you're okay," she sniffles.

"Me too kiddo," I don't sugar coat it by telling her otherwise.

I'm happy I'm here too.

"Hey, Quinn," Remi says walking over. She's been my sister's rock and from what mom and dad have said she's helped my sister a lot over the past few days.

"Come here, kid," I open my arm for her to join Kat and I hug them both.