Page 27 of Ghost Hunted

“Come on, it’ll be fun…”

Trying to ignore the ringing in my ears, I exit the car, stumbling toward the bazooka lying on the ground, a few feet back. Between the injury on my head and the shot on my arm, the fog is back, and it’s getting worse by the minute. I reach down to grab it, and suddenly, the spots overwhelm my vision until the world is blotted out. I just have time to hear Piper shriek, “Shit!” before I lose consciousness.

7

Logan

“Let me down… let me down… what’re you doing? Let me down… Ow! Motherfucker!”

“Quill!”

“What? I let him down. That’s what he asked, isn’t it?”

“You didn’t have to throw him down. He’s injured.”

“You were pissed as fuck with him, cricket, but I guess all it takes is a bazooka to the head, and…”

“Idiot.”

“You’re going to end up over my knee if this continues.”

“Idiot.”

“Let’s go, Piper.”

I groan loudly, struggling into a sitting position, and take in my new surroundings. A makeshift tent has been pitched over a few long sturdy branches, with some covers and clothes found in our belongings. There’s a crackling fire beside me, and a little further away, Lia is hunched over, hiding her face in her knees.

Meanwhile, Quill is in the process of dragging Piper off, and it’s dark and rocky enough in this countryside that soon, they’ll have disappeared from view entirely. I bite down on my first instinct to call them back. Clearly, I can trust Quill to take care of her, and by the way he nods at me as they leave, carrying a branch and a few more blankets and clothes, I realize he’s also decided I need some alone time with the girl I haven’t seen in nearly two decades. Maybe he’s less of a psychopath than I thought.

Nah. Who am I kidding?

Grunting with pain, I crawl toward Lia and touch her shoulder. She startles and looks up, and in the firelight, I can see her face is wet.

“Hi, crybaby.”

She shakes her head. I have no idea what that head shake means, and I don’t want to find out. Just a few hours ago, I was planning to kill her, but now, the thought that she might not want me anymore terrifies me.

Everything that’s happened is my fault, and I need to make it right.

“Come here, Lia.”

Ignoring her hesitation, I drag her onto my lap, wincing at the ache in my arm. The wound seems to have been treated, but it still hurts like hell. Not enough though to keep me from wrapping my arms around her. Nothing could possibly hurt enough to keep me from doing that.

The bikers following us seems like a distant memory. So does that mysterious word Quill spoke before the explosion. Everything fades before her tears.

“I’m sorry, Lia,” I whisper, but I know how insufficient my apology is.

She looks away, clearly torn between fear and pain. I know I’m the cause for both, but I still force her to look at me.

“Please, Lia.”

She shakes her head again.

“Stop shaking your head. Tell me it’s okay. Tell me you forgive me.”

The hand on her face squeezes it in my desperation to force her to accept my apology.

“Yes, Logan,” she gasps.