Page 22 of Consuming Logan

“Fine.” Wait, had she said surgeons? His wounds had required emergency surgery. “Surgeons,” he parroted.

With unblinking, watery eyes, she nodded.

The air in his lungs froze. His hand had required a surgeon.

“Logan, let Dr. Pierre talk with you about your prognosis.”

Prognosis. Why did he need a prognosis for superficial wounds? Wait… Nariah Pierre, the only surgeon more skilled with a blade than Logan had been consulted on his case?

He remembered pushing Ava out of the path of the blade. The pain of the sharp metal plunging into his flesh ignited. Strong. He had wrestled with his opponent. The guy was strong and comfortable with a blade. He wielded the knife with some skill. More memories began to surface. He’d said something to Logan, but what had it been? Frustrated with the effects of the drugs circulating through his system, Logan ran his left hand over his face.

“How long was I under?”

Ava understood the question. If he’d had surgery, how long he had been under anesthesia would give him some clue as to the seriousness of his injuries.

“Eight hours,” she whispered.

What? Unless he’d been cut with a machete, it didn’t take eight damn hours to repair a laceration. “How long have I been out?”

Sympathy stole the last of Ava’s control and her face crumbled. His first instinct was to comfort her, but he needed to hear her answer.

“About ten hours.”

From Thursday to Friday, he’d lost almost a full day, a big hole in his conscious memory. Logan didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the call bell and started pounding on the button. When he shifted, black spots swam in front of his eyes. Wiggling his fingers had him wincing in pain. What did this mean for him holding a scalpel again?

“May I help you, Doctor Masters?”

He didn’t take his eyes off Ava. “Get whomever operated on my hand in this room in the next sixty seconds. Someone needs to explain what the hell was done to my surgical hand.”

The nurse stammered a response, “Yes…yes, sir. I’ll page the physician right now.”

He turned to Ava. “Call Lina. Tell her I want to talk with that cop brother of hers.” His family knew law enforcement officers who were higher up in the pecking order, but Logan trusted Bishop Cardar. Ava was his sister’s best friend. Bishop would understand Logan’s need to destroy the person responsible for the fear in his woman’s eyes.

“Why?”

He looked at his Ava. The thought that he’d failed to protect her was more painful than the wound inflicted in his chest.

Logan glanced down at his bandaged hand, determination straightening his spine. “The attacker is not done.”

Chapter 7

Logan hadn’t mentioned the baby. Either the drugs had dulled his memory or, Ava swallowed, the head injury had robbed him of the memory of the life they’d created, that he would be a father in five months. Inwardly her heart ached, knowing the precious gift had been ripped away, like a treasure chest robbed of its contents. Logan would want to hunt down their attacker the instant he was reminded of the pregnancy. She looked up, taking in each face, all of them creased with concern for them. Asking everyone who cared about Logan to leave the room could be considered rude. Considering how angry he appeared at his parents for depriving him of a relationship with his maternal aunt, she had to tell him…soon.

The door opened behind her and everyone turned to see Bishop Cardar, dressed in his Shell Cove PD uniform enter the room.

“You made a personal request?”

Bishop and Lina were half-siblings. He was Lincoln James’s oldest child from his first wife. Lina, not knowing of her brother’s existence until three years ago, had worked diligently to foster the relationship. The former Marine was the epitome of tall, dark, and mouthwateringly handsome.

“I did.”

Logan’s voice held an edge that bordered on a growl. Ava understood how raw his emotions were. She felt the same jagged rush of pain, fear, anger over the attack coursing through her nerve endings. Ava stroked Logan’s left hand, using light touches to calm the anger rolling off him in waves. “Thanks for coming, Bishop. That was fast.”

He smiled down at her, his gleaming white teeth as striking as his impressive build and clean-shaven head. “I was already in the parking lot when you called.”

Logan gave him an assessing stare. “Why? Is Ava in danger?”

She stiffened. The possibility of the attacker following them to the hospital never occurred to her.