“We’ve talked about it a little, but really just in the abstract. We both see it as an eventual step in our relationship, but neither of us really felt the need to rush. Same with moving in together.”
“That’s wise,” Mary approved. “Even if you two get engaged by May, there’s no reason you couldn’t have a long engagement to make sure you’re both completely ready.”
“I can’t speak for Lena, but I’d marry her tomorrow if I could,” Owen admitted. Mary smiled even brighter.
“Have you talked to her father yet? Not that you need his permission of course, but it would be polite to at least ask for his blessing.”
“Not yet, but…” he paused, remembering what Logan had said to him on Christmas. “I think he’ll be alright with it. He seems to like me.”
“That’s wonderful, dear. I’m so excited for you!”
“Thank you,” Owen sighed, relieved to have shared his happiness with another person. Once he’d made up his mind to propose, he’d wanted to shout it from the rooftops.
Now all he needed was a ring and a plan.
Meanwhile…
“You really didn’t have to come with me. I could’ve just texted you a few pictures,” Logan muttered as he and Lena made their way out of the mall.
“That would’ve taken even longer, and we pretty much closed the place down as it is,” she chuckled, glancing back at the darkened storefronts. “Does this girl know how picky you are?”
“Not yet,” he grinned.
Logan had met a girl on New Year’s Eve, and he’d been immediately taken with her. Not only was she gorgeous, but she was ridiculously smart and wonderfully funny even when she didn’t intend to be. Their first official date was planned for the upcoming weekend, and Logan had belatedly realized that he didn’t have any nice clothing that still fit properly. Lena had insisted on helping him find an outfit for his date, and the expedition had lasted a good three hours longer than she’d anticipated. He’d ended up with a full wardrobe for the next two seasons.
The first half of their shopping trip had been spent clearing the air between them. Nate wasn’t the only one who’d picked up on Lena’s awkwardness over Christmas, and Logan had insisted that she go back to treating him the same as she always had. He’d assured her that there was no reason to feel uncomfortable and that he was content to just be her friend. Lena had worried that there would be no going back after a revelation like the one he’d dropped on her the week before, but to her surprise, the tension had gradually faded as they’d moved from store to store.
The sky was inky black as they strode across the mostly vacant parking lot, exchanging the playful banter that had always dominated their conversations. There were a few light posts towering overhead at regular intervals, and Lena had made a point to park as close to one as possible earlier that afternoon on the off chance they would be returning in the dark. When they drew nearer to her car, she pressed the button to release the trunk so that she and Logan could pile their bags into it. As she deposited the final bag, she glanced up at him, frowning in confusion at his expression.
Logan’s body had gone rigid, and he was sniffing the air like a bloodhound, his eyes darting in every direction. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention, years of training kicking his survival instincts into high gear. He’d seen… something. Lena tensed with anxiety.
“Logan? What’s wrong?”
“Shhh!” His head was whipping back and forth in all directions, and she held herself perfectly still as she watched him, wondering if perhaps her friend’s need for a trauma therapist was greater than she’d realized. “Something’s not right,” he rasped.
“What is it?”
He didn’t answer, but his hands reached out to clutch her tightly by the upper arms. As Logan’s eyes swept eastward again, he spotted the source of his alarm. It had resonated with his subconscious mind in a way that was terrifyingly familiar.
“Get in the car.”
“Logan -”
“Dammit, Lena, get in the fucking car!” His voice was low and urgent, and he began to move her forcibly. She didn’t try to fight him, but he couldn’t seem to move her quickly enough.
Because the object he’d seen peeking out from behind the fender of a large pickup truck was the barrel of a gun.
It was a good fifty feet away, but Logan didn’t need to be any closer to recognize it for what it was. The sound of metal clicking against metal seemed to echo over the cold pavement, and he tackled Lena to the ground, shouting as they went.
“Get your head down!”
Lena sobbed as she followed his instruction, squeezing her eyes shut in terror just as a deafening shot ripped through the cool night air.
Chapter 29
Lena’s entire body was petrified into solid mass as she waited for the pain. Her brain seemed to slow down, processing the input from her senses at the sluggish pace of gears grinding in old machinery. When the pain she was expecting failed to register, she did a mental evaluation of her body. Being forced onto the frigid asphalt hadn’t felt good, but Lena realized that she was, for the most part, unharmed.
A long, drawn-out groan from the heavy body above her shifted her attention. Logan’s face was twisted in pain, but she could tell that he was refusing to surrender to it. Instead, he was feebly urging her to seek more cover beneath her car. A wet, sticky substance began to saturate the front of her coat, and her eyes rapidly scanned her friend for injuries. A dark stain was expanding steadily on the sleeve of his own coat, and Lena’s brain struggled to process what had actually happened.
“What just…? You’re hurt…”
“Someone fucking shot at us! Get yourself under the car as much as possible.”
She was stunned into silence, robotically following his instruction. Lena wedged herself beneath her car, thankful that she was a small person. She lay shivering for a couple of minutes as Logan covered her position and attempted to catch a glimpse of the shooter. She could hear the alarmed voices of a few strangers whose scuffling feet were approaching them quickly.
“Is everything alright?” a man shouted.
“No, call 911,” Lena yelled back, finally finding her voice. “My friend was shot!”
“Shot?!”
“There’s no need to call anyone but the cops,” Logan grunted, rising slowly to his feet. “It was through and through, and I’m conscious. We’ll go to the ER. We can talk to the cops there.”
Logan searched the darkened parking lot fruitlessly for a sign of the shooter, but whoever had been crouching behind the large truck had vanished. He knew that they couldn’t have gone far, but since Logan was wounded and unarmed, he wasn’t in any fit state to track them. By the time the police actually arrived, the shooter would no doubt be long gone.
Fuck, he cursed inwardly, holding a hand over the throbbing wound. Logan was doing his best to stay present mentally, but his combat instincts were primed. It was all he could do not to shove Lena in the car and demand that she get them the hell out of there. Without a gun in his hand, there was no way to defend, no way to fight. So, that left flight.
There were more people around them now, however, and someone had ignored his instruction not to bother with calling an ambulance. A second glance at the man revealed him to be a mall security guard, and Logan rolled his eyes at his somewhat pompous demeanor. He glanced speculatively at the other faces, trying to read each expression. What if one of them is the shooter?
“Come here,” Lena said anxiously, unwinding the fleece scarf from her neck. Her hair crackled with a bit of static electricity, but she ignored it, her eyes fixed on his injured arm.
Logan edged closer to her and leaned against the car while she wrapped the long strip of material tightly around his bicep. He winced as she applied pressure but didn’t argue. His face was already feeling a little numb, and he had a touch of dizziness as his eyes continued to scan the parking lot and the faces of the observers. Logan waited as patiently as he
could until she was finished.
“I’m not waiting for the cops. We’re getting the fuck out of here. Now,” he decreed.
“Logan, we witnessed a crime. We can’t just leave the scene.”
“We can talk to the cops while I’m getting stitched up. The hospital isn’t that far. I’m sure we’ll get there before an ambulance could. They’re not even here yet. Let’s go!”
Lena pursed her lips but decided not to argue the point. She glanced around at the handful of people who had come to help or at least to gawk, wondering if any of them were still in danger. She reached into her purse and retrieved a pen and an old receipt, scribbling her name and number onto the back. Lena handed it to the security guard and asked him to give it to the police when they arrived. Her gaze returned to Logan, and she did a visual check of his makeshift bandage.
“Alright,” she nodded at him, “let’s go.”
It wasn’t until Lena read the entrance sign for the hospital that she recalled it was the same facility where Mary was employed. She knew that Mary had an established practice and was unlikely to be lurking around the ER, but she wondered if Mary might be willing to use in her influence to speed the process along for them. The last thing Logan needed was to be sitting in a waiting room for hours with a gunshot wound.
One would think that sort of thing might entitle him to immediate treatment, but metropolitan hospitals were notoriously busy. She’d heard of people being forced to wait with more serious injuries than Logan’s. Lena didn’t have Mary’s number, unfortunately, which meant calling Owen. She would have done so anyway, but she wasn’t looking forward to managing his anxiety on top of everything else. Maybe I’ll just ask at the front desk and see if they can page her…
Lena parked the car and helped Logan inside, rolling her eyes all the while at his assurances that he was ‘fine.’ The woman at the front desk raised her brows curiously at the sight of Logan’s bleeding wound and pale face, and she urged him to sit in one of the chairs that were placed in front of the counter. Lena gave her Logan’s information and a brief description of what had happened, adding that if Dr. Langford was on call that evening, she would be interested to know they were there. To her relief, the woman advised them to stay put while she checked to see if they had space to take him straight to a room. Lena was usually opposed to name-dropping in general, but nothing was beneath her in a situation like this.
“Who?” Logan murmured in confusion.
“Owen’s… mom.”
They didn’t wait long before being shown to an empty bed in the triage area, and Lena hovered over Logan like a mother hen as he explained the events of the evening to the nurse, who had introduced herself as Angela.
“Did an ambulance bring you in?” the woman asked, surveying the large, open space for uniformed EMTs.
“No, we didn’t want to wait. He was losing blood, and we knew we could get here faster on our own,” Lena replied. Angela nodded but pursed her lips slightly.
“Well, I’m sure the police will want to talk to you. They’ll need help identifying the shooter.”
“Shooter?!”
Lena’s head snapped up in the direction of Owen’s voice. He was standing next to Mary, and they wore near-identical expressions of concern and shock. Owen rushed to her side and began to survey every inch of her body.
“Are you hurt? What the fuck happened??” The fact that Mary didn’t admonish him for his language marked the seriousness of the situation. She was busy going over Logan’s digital chart with the nurse.
“No, just a couple of scrapes from hitting the pavement, but Logan was shot in the arm,” she explained, allowing him to kiss and coddle her a little as the residual fear broke through her strong facade. “What are you doing here?”
“I was having dinner with Mary.” Owen kept his arms around her as his eyes shifted to Logan. “You alright?”
“I’ll be fine, but we need to call Nate,” Logan grunted. He winced slightly as the nurse began to remove Lena’s scarf from his arm.
“Now? We haven’t even talked to the cops yet,” Lena reminded him. It didn’t escape her notice that he hadn’t insisted on calling his own father, but she knew that they weren’t on the best terms at the moment. Gregory hadn’t reacted well to Logan’s plans for a career change.
“They’re probably still interviewing witnesses at the mall -”
“That’s where this happened?” Owen interrupted. He’d known about the intended shopping trip, but he’d assumed they would’ve finished hours ago.
“In the parking lot. The shooter was behind a truck, and I couldn’t get a good visual. I lost sight of him when we hit the ground, and by the time I was able to look again, he was gone.”
“You’re sure it was a guy?” Lena asked.
“No… Guess I shouldn’t assume,” Logan muttered. “But seriously, Lena, call Nate right now. I may not have seen the shooter, but I saw the gun. It was aimed at you. Not me.”
Nearly everyone in the room froze, and Owen’s heart began to pound even harder in his chest. Lena didn’t seem as worried as he thought she should be, and he was surprised at the answer she gave.
“If there were any serious active threats right now, he’d have told me.”
“Dammit, Lena, the crazy people aren’t going to send letters or make phone calls first,” Owen growled, his arms tightening around her.
“Exactly,” Logan seconded. “Call him, or I will. You know he’ll be pissed if he has to hear it from me first.”
The ER doctor joined them and immediately went to work examining Logan’s arm, asking him questions and talking quietly with Mary as he worked. Lena watched for a few minutes before her phone rang, and she stepped away politely to answer it. An Officer Brian greeted her from the other end and advised her that he and his partner were finally en route to the hospital to question her and Logan. She gave them Logan’s information so that the hospital staff could direct them when they arrived.
“Call your father,” Owen said sternly as soon as she’d hung up. And if he doesn’t get you a bodyguard, I’ll figure out a way to hire one myself, he added silently.
He was holding it together… barely. The realization that someone had actually shot at his Lena was hitting him hard, and he was bouncing back and forth between intense rage and absolute terror at the thought of how the evening might have gone differently. I could have lost her. The words reverberated in his brain until he wanted to tear his hair out by the roots.
“Hey,” Lena said softly, placing her hands on either side of his face. Her gentle touched soothed him a little. “I’m okay. I’m safe, and I’m right here.” Owen closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers.
“But you could’ve died,” he whispered hoarsely, his chest aching with suppressed emotion.
“But I didn’t.” The conviction in her voice was a little weaker than she’d intended, and he could tell that she wasn’t handling this as well as she wanted everyone to believe.
“Call your dad. Right now.”
Owen’s tone was firm, and Lena sighed reluctantly as she unlocked her phone.
To Lena’s surprise and extreme displeasure, Nate wasn’t alone when he arrived at the hospital some thirty minutes later. Logan had been moved to a more private room in the ER, and Lena cursed under her breath when she spotted the newcomers through the window-wall. Owen followed her gaze, his brow creasing with confusion as he watched Nate approach with none other than Jeff Phelps in tow. The latter wore an expression of mingled concern and confusion.
“What the hell happened?!” Nate nearly shouted once they’d reached the doorway. He looked flustered and distressed, his face reddening with his rising blood pressure. Lena allowed him to pull her into a tight embrace, and Nate looked at Logan over her shoulder. “Someone shot at you?”
“Not at me,” Logan shook his head. “At her. He only hit me because I covered her. I got a partial visual on the gun, but it was dark. If I had to guess, I’d say it was probab
ly a 9mm.”
“But you’re alright?”
“I’ll be fine. I’m all stitched up now. Just waiting to be discharged,” he replied. “The cops have already been here. They’re still processing the scene, but they should’ve found a bullet there somewhere. Hopefully running the ballistics won’t take too long.” Nate nodded and redirected his attention to his daughter, frowning sternly.
“You’re getting a security detail, and I don’t want to hear another word about it. At least two rotating, and they’ll be armed.”
“Seconded,” Owen growled.
“I know,” Lena answered quietly. Owen exhaled in relief that she wasn’t intending to fight them on the issue.
“I’d like to volunteer,” Logan spoke up.
Lena’s expression softened further, and Owen nodded in reluctant agreement. As uncomfortable as he might have been with the idea of Logan spending that much time in such close quarters with her, he knew that Logan was clearly capable of protecting her. He actually found it somewhat reassuring to know that Logan cared for her too much to let anything happen to her. Lena’s safety was far more important than Owen’s comfort. Nate, on the other hand, was the voice of dissention.
“I appreciate that, Logan, but that wound will take at least a few weeks to heal. We need someone sooner than that, and you need to take the time to recover. I’ll put Wyatt on it.”
“That’s fine,” Lena agreed quickly. She liked Seth Wyatt well enough, and she knew the fact that he was gay would put Owen at ease.
“You still need another. What about Donaldson?”
“Veto,” she muttered. “Our personalities just don’t mix well, Dad.”
“Alright,” Nate relented, recalling all too easily the slip his daughter had given Margaret Donaldson a few years ago. Lena had had him and his entire staff in a panic when she’d disappeared for several hours just to get away from Donaldson. “We’ll figure it out, but I’ll get Wyatt here as quickly as possible. Don’t leave the hospital without him.”
Ember (Constant Flame Duet Book 1) Page 34