Edge of Forever Read online

  The relief that Izzy had been spared.

  Fear that fate was going to take her away anyway.

  He bowed his head and covered the back of his head with shaking fingers. He dug into his neck and shoulder muscles until the pain chased back the fear. Until he could breathe again.

  Until he could shore up his reserves again.

  He couldn’t lose her.

  He wouldn’t survive it.

  CHAPTER TWO

  She hurt.

  Worse than when she’d broken her arm in tenth grade.

  Worse than the emergency appendectomy in college.

  God, she never thought anything could top that.

  But this did.

  Darkness frayed at the edges of the shrieking red pain.

  She welcomed it.

  She chased it.

  She curled it around her shoulders like a wool shawl.

  Let it take her.

  ∞♦ ∞

  Logan escaped into the men’s room and dunked his head into the sink, letting icy water rush over his neck and face. He washed away the weakness and shame clawing at his brain.

  This wasn’t about him.

  He needed to get his shit together for her. She needed him to get through this.

  Because she was going to make it through surgery.

  He simply wouldn’t accept another option.

  A shower would have helped, but that would wait. He swiped away the worst of the leftover soot and blood that he’d missed on the first round. Some of it was his own. Glass shards were embedded in his collar and cuffs.

  Christ, it had been everywhere.

  He rolled his neck and took stock of his battle-worn face. At least he didn’t look like a lunatic anymore. And appearances were all he had right then.

  You can do this.

  You have to do this.

  He opened the door and Zeke pounced.

  “Lo, where the hell have you been?”

  “Just had to walk it off before I split someone’s lip.”

  Zeke shook his head. “As long as it wasn’t mine.”

  “It was a close thing.”

  His best friend flashed a dimpled smile. “Nah, you wouldn’t hit me. It’s like beating a puppy.”

  Because it was true, Logan gave him a halfhearted smile. “The nurse said she’d find me if there was any word.”

  “None so far. The woman behind the glass threatened to stick one of her pens in my hand—though I’m pretty sure she meant another place—if I didn’t stop asking her if she had any updates.”

  Logan sighed. He knew she hadn’t been in surgery that long. But the longer the surgery, the more he could feel the icy edges of panic trying to take hold. That meant complications. Complications meant that he could still lose her.

  No.

  Not going there.

  She was too strong to die. She was too stubborn to die.

  He tugged at his collar as they walked back to the waiting room. More people had shown up. “Hey, you think you could send someone down to the gift shop for a t-shirt? Mine is full of glass.”

  “Yeah, I’ll take care of it.”

  “Thanks, man.” Logan slapped Zeke’s arm as he moved into the crowd of people.

  Sam and Dee Valentine quickly stood. They both were bandaged and had matching red-rimmed eyes.

  “Hey. You guys okay?”

  Sam nodded. “Tried to help the firemen by soaking down the surrounding buildings. It’s been dry.”

  Logan closed his eyes. “Did anyone else get hurt?”

  “Three people got trampled from the crowds, and two firemen were killed. There might be more, but it’s just chaos.”

  Logan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Have you talked to Nic’s parents?”

  Dee curled her fingers around Sam’s forearm. “They’re not doing well.”

  He should go down to talk to them, but he had no idea what to say. I’m sorry my psycho ex-girlfriend blew up your daughter’s store.

  What in the fuck.

  “Any word on Adam?”

  Sam sighed. “Still hasn’t woken up. He got hit with the initial blast. They think it was his skull hitting pavement that did the most damage.”

  “Jesus.”

  Dee’s blue eyes were hollow and a little shell-shocked. “How’s Bella?”

  “Still in surgery. They haven’t told me anything.”

  Sam hugged Dee tighter. “We’re praying for her. Anything you need, just let us know. Food—whatever.”

  “I…” Logan cleared his throat. “I don’t even know what to say.”

  “There’s nothing to say. The firemen controlled the flames enough that no other businesses were harmed, and that’s what matters.”

  “Small victories.”

  Sam lightly slapped Logan’s arm. “They’re all we can concentrate on.”

  “Thanks for coming up to check on her. I’ll check in when I know something.”

  “Good. Thanks.” Dee stepped into Logan’s space and wrapped her arms around his middle. “You take care of our girl for us.”

  He dropped a kiss on top of her head. “I will.” He spotted Marcus Roth over her head. “Excuse me?”

  They both nodded and waved as they headed down the hall.

  “Marcus. Give me something, man.”

  “Sarah tried to check herself out of her damn room. She’s ready to come up here and guard over Bella’s freaking surgical room, for God’s sake.”

  “You didn’t let her, right?”

  “In theory, I’m her boss. I’m not sure she’s aware of the whole boss/employee relationship.”

  “In other words, she’ll be up here as soon as humanly possible?”

  Marcus snorted. “She’s not human.”

  “She’s all right?”

  “Banged up. Busted rib and concussion. All things considered, she’s not doing too badly. What’s the deal with Bella?”

  “Still in surgery.” He was getting damn tired of saying that.

  “I figured as much. I talked to the police, so that’s one less thing for you to deal with. I explained our situation so far. They want us to go in and talk to them as soon as possible.”

  “I need guards on her door, Marcus. There’s no way that explosion at Between the Lines was an accident.”

  “So far, they’re saying it is.”

  “What?”

  Marcus nodded. “They’re saying faulty wiring - old brownstone yada yada.”

  “You know that’s not it. I know Izzy. That place was up to code or better. She’d never chance it with her inventory.”

  “I know that. But it’s still an old building. Even if she was up to code, something could have gone wrong.”

  “You know that’s bullshit.”

  “Logan.” Marcus lowered his voice.

  “It was her. You fucking know it was her.”

  “I have nothing to go on. She was very spectacularly in a different part of the country.”

  Logan frowned. “What does that mean?”

  “She was at some premiere with that hockey player. And it was a media circus. She was at the bloody center of it.”

  Logan’s eyebrow winged up. He didn’t know Marcus had an accent. “Do I even want to know?”

  “Her alibi is airtight. The premiere was in London.”

  “She never gets her hands dirty.”

  Zeke came over to stand by him. “Easy, tiger. You’re starting to attract attention. And not just the Nosy Nellys in the room. The staff too.”

  Logan’s hands shook at his sides. “I know it was her. This is exactly what she said she’d do. A lot more goddamn extreme than I ever thought she would do, but it’s her.”

  Marcus held up a hand. “I’m not saying it’s not. What I’m saying is I don’t have an angle to play yet. But I already have two bodyguards with me to keep her safe around the clock.”

  His shoulders eased. “Good.”

  “You good? You look like hell, Logan.”

  “I�
�ll be better when I know what the hell’s going on.”

  Marcus met his gaze, his dark eyes unwavering. “We’ll keep her safe.”

  Wasn’t that what he was supposed to do before? But he bit back that comment because it wasn’t anyone’s fault but his own. He’d grown complacent. He’d believed he could have a life.

  And now Izzy was paying the price.

  Again.

  “Mr. King?”

  Logan pushed by Marcus. “I’m Mr. King.” Shock hit him low as the woman that showed him to the chapel stood in front of him. She’d been in the room with Izzy when he ran into her.

  No wonder she’d looked at him with shock.

  She held her hand out. “I’m Dr. Marra.”

  “You stopped and…”

  “I was one of two surgeons working on Ms. Grace.”

  “Oh.” Logan sucked in a breath. “Two surgeons?”

  “She had extensive internal injuries. We were able to repair most of the wounds and get her stable. We had to remove her spleen and her liver was badly lacerated by the debris from the explosion. She also has a few cracked ribs.”

  A liver was not an optional organ. Logan swallowed. “What does that mean?”

  “It means she’s one lucky woman. From what I was told, she was behind a structure when the blast hit. It did a lot of damage to her, but it also protected her from the brunt of the fire. She has some burns, but they don’t require the burn unit.”

  He tried to find some spit in his mouth so he could talk. Hearing the laundry list of injuries was almost as bad as the reasons to be thankful. “Is she okay—otherwise, I mean?”

  “I’ll feel better when she comes out of anesthesia. We did scans and she doesn’t appear to have any brain injuries, but she was hit pretty hard.”

  He nodded. “Can I see her?”

  “We’re going to move her the ICU, and after that you can see her. But only for a few minutes.”

  “Thank you.”

  She gave him a tight smile. Just as she was turning around, Logan touched her arm. “Doctor?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m sorry to have to make things more difficult, but I’ve got a bodyguard detail that has to be in her room. We’ll make sure they’re as unobtrusive as possible.”

  “A bodyguard?” Dr. Marra’s empathetic blue eyes turned wary.

  “This situation is more than an accident, I’m afraid.”

  “Intentional?”

  “I know you recognized me. Unfortunately with fame comes a lot of other not-so-nice side benefits. I have an unstable woman that has been targeting us.”

  “Oh, God. All right. We’ll try to work around your guard.”

  “Thank you.” He turned and waved Marcus over. “This is Marcus Roth. He’ll give you names and you can tell him where to send his people.”

  Marcus held out his hand and they shook. “Dr. Marra. I only need a few minutes of your time.”

  Logan wandered over with the band. He’d known the injuries were bad, but not so extensive. Her liver. God, so much blood. He shook his head to dispel the memories of her in that trauma room. Those would haunt him every time he closed his freaking eyes.

  Christian stood up. “A T-shirt, like you asked.”

  He took it with a grateful smile and unbuttoned the disaster show that he was wearing. He shucked it and started pulling the other one down when the doctor came up behind him.

  “You need to come with me.”

  Logan looked over his shoulder, panic stealing his breath. “Is it Izzy?”

  “No. You need to be checked over.”

  “I’m fine.” Logan shook his head, his heart skittering back from overload to normal. “It’s fine. Just scrapes.”

  “Tell that to the ten-inch gash on your back. Can’t you feel that?”

  “Jesus, Lo,” Zeke said.

  “I probably got it when that guy helped me lift the counter off her.” Logan pulled the shirt off and reached behind him, but his hands were slapped away.

  “All right, tough guy. Come back with me. You’ll be waiting forever downstairs.”

  “Don’t you have patients?”

  “The worst of the traumas are over. Now it’s just routine surgeries. They can hold for the five minutes it’ll take to disinfect and bandage you.”

  He sighed. It was better to get it over with than listen to all the grief he would get. And he didn’t want to stand around the damn waiting room without a shirt. He followed her through the swinging doors to the hallway where he’d first met her. “Thanks, doctor.”

  She nodded. “Seems that I get to be the hero today. Finding a hiding spot and now butterfly bandages for the rockstar.”

  “Saving Izzy is the only one that matters. I can’t thank you enough.”

  “She’s a fighter.”

  Logan stopped her. “Honestly, Doc. Tell me—is she going to be okay?”

  “I wasn’t lying when I said I reserve judgment until she wakes up, but I’m optimistic.” She nodded to a little room. “In there, please.”

  There was a small desk and office chair as well as a backless stool.

  “Have a seat.”

  He pulled the seat between his legs and sat down. Everything inside of him screamed for mercy. He didn’t remember dead lifting debris to get her, but the gashes on his hands and arm told the tale. As did the muscles that were protesting every movement.

  Now that the adrenaline had leeched from his body, he felt every ache. He hissed as she dabbed his back with something.

  “Sorry, most of my patients are unconscious.”

  He bit back a low groan. Was his flesh sizzling? “Yeah. Just get it done.”

  “This would have been serious by morning. Did you know all it takes is a little staph infection to put you down?”

  “I honestly didn’t notice.”

  “That’s the adrenaline talking. And probably not very loudly anymore. I have to get some debris out.”

  “Do what you gotta do.” Logan hunched his shoulders forward. “I just need to see her. And make sure that the guard is set up.”

  “Should I worry about my staff?”

  “Yesterday I would have said no. Today, I just don’t know. She’s never done anything like this before.”

  “A fan did all of this?”

  He tensed as she pulled his skin closed with tape. “No. She’s an ex.”

  “Wife?”

  “God, no.”

  “I take it she didn’t take the break up well.”

  “You could say that.”

  She dabbed on some sort of ointment and his tight skin eased. A thick pad of gauze was next and then some tape. “All set.”

  He stood and untucked the shirt from his back pocket and eased it over his head. “Now, where can I find Izzy?”

  “She’s on the third floor, room 309.”

  “Thanks for patching me up.”

  “Don’t tell anyone I was nice to you. I have a reputation to uphold.”

  Logan huffed out a laugh. “Your secret is safe with me.”

  “Good. Now get out.”

  “Thanks, Dr. Marra.”

  He hit the door running. Caught Zeke’s gaze as he nodded toward the elevators. He met him at the doors.

  “All patched up?”

  “Yeah. Even better, I have directions to Izzy.”

  “Lead on, brother.”

  When they got to the third floor, Logan hung a left out of the elevator and strode down the hall. There was a lean, tatted-up guy sitting in a chair in the hallway. At first glance, he looked relaxed and even complacent, but his eyes scanned the space and each face as they came near the door.

  “Mr. King.”

  Logan glanced at the kid. He didn’t look over twenty-five. “Are you with Roth?”

  He nodded. “Marcus is inside.”

  Zeke flashed him a raised brow and followed Logan in. He halted in the doorway. Her hair was pinned back and gauze was wrapped around her head from forehead to ear. A gossamer thi
n layer covered thick pads over her eyes.

  Her hands were wrapped in similar gauze. Her elegant hands were bright pink and spread on little wedges to hold her fingers apart. A blanket was pulled up over her torso and half a dozen tubes and wires were attached to her.

  Logan backed out the door and bent at the waist. He hadn’t been prepared for that.

  “Hey, buddy. Breathe.”

  Logan sucked in a breath through his nose and then out his mouth. “I’m all right. I just wasn’t prepared to see her like that.”

  “She’s okay. The doc said she’s a fighter, right?”

  “Right.”

  He stood up, straightened his shoulders, and walked in again. The blow to his gut was no less vicious, but he took it. Forced himself to walk forward and sit down next to her.

  Dammit, he wanted to touch her and everything about her looked fragile. He drew one long, dark lock of hair away from the white gauze. “Hi, baby.” He brushed a light kiss against the crest of her cheek. “You come back to me Izzy, mine. If you think you’re getting away with saying yes to marrying me and skipping out on the ceremony, you are sorely mistaken.”

  She didn’t answer.

  Not even a blip on that stupid machine counting out her heartbeats.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The beeping was back.

  Loud.

  Annoying.

  Voices this time, too. Logan?

  It sounded like him, but didn’t smell like him.

  Why couldn’t she see him? Why couldn’t she open her eyes?

  She turned her head and the red came back and then the black.

  So heavy.

  Logan?

  Why couldn’t she see him?

  ∞♦ ∞

  Somewhere between dawn and noon he’d crashed in the chair beside her. They tried to kick him out, but Dr. Marra had taken pity on him.

  She was still so damn still.

  The nurses checked her vitals, kept changing out some sort of special blood bag, redressed her hands, but wouldn’t answer any of his questions. Especially about her eyes.

  He stretched and winced. His six-two frame was not built for these chairs. Even the one that was supposed to be a sleep chair.

  It was too far away from her anyway.

  The only way he’d been able to get a little sleep was when he’d passed out with his hand on her upper arm. One of the few areas not burned, cut, or bruised. He pressed his forehead to her shoulder and breathed her in. Jasmine lingered under the acrid soot and the clinical hospital scents. It was the same smell he looked for at night, and the one that filled his head as he opened his eyes each day.