by Ella Frank
As they both moved toward the office door, Cole asked, “For the most part?”
“Yeah. He’s only stubborn about certain things.”
“Such as?”
Logan took his coat off the rack, and as he opened the door and Cole stepped out, he decided, What the hell. “Like…moving in with me.”
Cole stopped in his tracks and pinned him with a “get the fuck out of here” look. “You asked him to move in with you?”
Logan closed his door and placed his coat over his arm. “I did.”
“Wow.”
“Why is everyone so surprised by this?”
Cole slipped his hands into his pockets and tried to fight back a grin. “You have to admit that it’s a little shocking. You’ve gone from a man who wouldn’t date one person, let alone—”
“Yes?” Logan asked, feeling perturbed.
Cole lost it then and started to laugh. Then he clapped him on the arm. “Nothing. I think it’s great.”
Logan eyed him as if he didn’t believe him. “It would be even better if Tate would hurry up and say yes.”
“Did he say no?” Cole asked.
Logan was quick to tell him, “No. He said, ‘Not yet.’”
Cole smiled, and as he turned on his heel to walk to his office, he called over his shoulder, “Give the guy some time to digest that he’d have to entertain your ass twenty-four-seven. Then I’m sure he’ll give you the answer you want.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Logan mumbled and headed for the door. “Go do some work. I’ll see you later.”
* * *
It had just turned three o’clock when Tate and Rachel walked through the doors of the final property on his list for the day. It was a corner lot with double doors that opened onto the street, and inside, there were three steps leading down to the main floor.
The space was large, and the bar was already built in, which, in his mind, was a plus. He didn’t have the extra money for major renovations, so if they could find something in relatively good shape, he could definitely work with that.
Tate wandered into the center of the room, and the realtor came up next to him, rattling off numbers and figures on square footage—this one had 4,400. But what caught his attention this time around was the mention of an additional loft included in the rent.
He turned to see Rachel’s grin as she nodded and walked over to the area off to the right, where a long wall of windows let in the afternoon sun and faced the side street where he’d parked his bike.
“The restaurant and bar scene has really taken off on this side of town,” the realtor said. She’d been giving them handy little facts about each place at every new stop. “Owners have been investing in restoring and renting out their properties, and fortunately, that means a lot of business.”
“And higher rent,” Rachel murmured as Tate made his way over to where she stood.
“Yes, yes. In the end, you get what you pay for,” the realtor told them.
Keeping his cards close to his chest, Tate remained silent as he walked to the long bar and ran his palm over the top of it. He didn’t want to let on just how much he liked the place before he got to see more of it.
When he’d taken on his second jobs, he’d always done it with the intention that the second income went straight in the bank. He’d been saving every spare dollar he could since the day he’d started work for this very occasion. Even Diana had known not to touch that—he’d worked damn hard for that money, and this was the reason why.
“Can I see the loft area?” he asked.
As the woman hurried off toward the end of the bar, Rachel came up on the other side of him.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
Tate gave her a crooked smile. “I like it. Depending on what’s upstairs, I may really like it. If that’s included in the price, then I can get out of the place I’m in and take it.”
“You think Logan would…” she ventured, but she trailed off as if she didn’t think it was her place to ask.
“Would what? Move in here?” Tate asked as he walked to the end of the bar. “No. I’d never ask him to do that, but…”
Rachel followed, asking, “But what? You can’t just stop your thought there.”
He approached her, and she wrapped her arm through his.
“But maybe it’s time to say yes to him. And this will be here for the really late nights if I need to just crash.”
Rachel squealed and clutched his arm tight. “Eek! He’s gonna die when you tell him! I can’t wait.”
“Don’t get too excited. A lot has to happen first. I have to see upstairs. I have to like it. Then I need to go to the bank and see if this is all possible.”
“I know. I know. But just hearing you say it… I’m so happy for you both.”
Tate looked down at her infectious smile and saw tears welling in her eyes. “You’re a romantic fool, Rachel Madison.”
“No, just a hormonal one. Let’s go and see upstairs.”
* * *
Thirty minutes later, he and Rachel were standing in front of his bike. He unhooked his helmet and shoved it on his head as Rachel continued to tell him the different baby names she was thinking about.
“And if it’s a boy, Cole wants something proper like Benjamin. Benjamin Madison. But let’s face it, then he’d get Ben his whole life and that’s not bad. It’s just… I don’t know.”
“Common?”
“Yes! I want something like Ignacio.”
Tate stopped buckling the helmet under his chin. “Really?”
“Yes, really.” She giggled and then slapped his arm. “Or I could just go through a fruit bowl and pick out a piece. Not an apple though.”
Tate smiled. “Nah. That’s so overdone.”
“Oh look. Here’s my taxi,” she said and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you so much for letting me come with you today. It was nice to get out and think of new possibilities.”
Tate couldn’t agree more. “Yeah, it was fun. I really like this last one.” So much that he couldn’t wait to pick up dinner and stop by Logan’s to tell him.
After one last hug, she stepped back. “There are at least a dozen more for us to check out. But you definitely need to talk to Logan about this. Maybe even bring him by.”
Tate nodded and watched her walk down the sidewalk to the cab behind him. When he was happy she was safely inside the vehicle, he got on his bike and started the engine.
Once he’d checked behind him, Tate pulled out into the street, unable to wipe the grin off his face. It wasn’t until it was too late that he caught a glimpse of the red hood of the car hurtling down the wrong side of the street toward him.
That was the last thought he had—before time ceased to exist.
Part Two
Dependability
Being able to trust someone to do or provide what is needed.
Chapter Fourteen
As Logan took the elevator down from LPCW, he let out the breath he’d been holding the entire time he’d been in there. Thankfully, Chris had been out of the office today, and his meeting with Lance Powell had run on time and smoothly.
Not that it stopped me from watching the door like a fucking hawk.
He’d been paranoid the whole time that Chris would walk in and he’d have to deal with his passive-aggressive shit in front of his partner, but apparently, he’d inadvertently timed his visit well.
Thank God for that.
When the elevator came to a stop at the parking garage, Logan walked out to his car and climbed inside. After inserting the key into the ignition, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and shook his head. The damn thing had died about an hour ago.
He plugged it into the charger and sat for a minute with his head resting back against the seat, wondering how Tate’s day with Rachel had gone. He figured he’d have a few choice texts or voicemails about being out of reach when his phone came back on, and when it finally lit up, he wasn’t disappointed.
He picked
the phone up and checked the notifications pinging across the screen. There were texts and voicemails, one every minute or so, that had started around thirty minutes ago until finally they stopped coming in.
Not one of them was from Tate though; these were from his brother.
What the hell, Cole?
Opening the texts first, he read the three that were several seconds apart.
Cole: As soon as you get this, call me.
Cole: Logan, you need to call me.
Cole: PICK UP YOUR PHONE
Frowning, he checked his voicemails and saw two in there, also from his brother.
Jesus. Is it Rachel?
He hit the first, and put the phone on speaker and held his breath as Cole’s usually calm voice came through sounding unsteady. “Christ, Logan, why aren’t you answering your phone? As soon as you get this, call me.”
There was a second one, and before he called Cole back, he hit play.
“It’s Tate. You need to call me. NOW.”
As Cole’s voice filled the empty space inside his car, Logan felt his heart skip and stutter. He replayed the message just to be sure he’d heard it right.
“It’s Tate. You need to call me. NOW.”
What the… What about Tate?
His heart was racing in his chest as he hit redial and waited—still as a statue. He didn’t dare move, and he wasn’t sure he’d taken a breath in the last several seconds. As soon as the phone connected, he closed his eyes.
“Logan?” Cole said into the phone.
But Logan couldn’t seem to find his voice to greet him. He was too busy trying not to jump to any kind of conclusion.
“Thank God. Where are you?”
Knowing he needed to actually speak, Logan managed, “What the fuck is going on, Cole? Your messages are freaking me out.”
The silence that stretched across the line wasn’t helping to calm him. Cole was never stuck for words, but whatever this was, whatever had happened, he was having trouble relaying it.
“Spit it out,” he finally demanded, his anxiety hitting the breaking point.
“It’s Tate.”
“So you said in your message. What about him?”
“I need you to try to stay calm—”
“Fuck you and calm. Tell me what’s going on.” Logan could hear people talking in the background of wherever Cole was, but he couldn’t quite make out what was being said.
“There was an accident. Tate… He was hit when he was leaving one of the places he and Rachel were looking at this afternoon.”
Cole kept talking but his words all started to jumble together. All Logan kept hearing was, Tate… He was hit…hit…hit. And before he knew he was going to ask, the words just tumbled out.
“Is he dead, Cole?”
Cole cursed through the phone, and Logan held his breath.
“No. No. He was just taken into surgery. But you need to get down to University Hospital now. The ER.”
Biting his bottom lip to hold back the cry that was threatening to leave his chest, Logan remained silent.
“Logan? Can you drive? Do you need me to come down—”
“No,” burst free of his lips, and then he placed a fist to his mouth.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’m on my way,” he said and then hung up before he totally lost it.
As he gazed blankly out his front windshield, Logan’s hands started to shake. He couldn’t seem to remember how to put his car into gear, and he sure as fuck couldn’t see through the tears welling in his eyes.
He swiped a hand over them and gulped in some air. He needed to pull his shit together and get over to the hospital. He just hoped he made it in time.
* * *
By the time Logan got across town, parked his car, and rushed through the doors of the emergency room, his state of mind was in complete chaos.
The entire way over, he’d berated himself for not asking more questions like, Why is Tate in surgery? What did he come in with? What time did this all happen? He’d been such a fucking head case when Cole had called that all of the important questions had disappeared from his mind.
After he’d marched through the automatic sliding doors, Cole was standing there to greet him. His face was strained, and his hair was a mess, as though he’d been worrying it all afternoon with his hands. But he took him in a hug and squeezed him tight.
Logan didn’t have the will to do anything other than stand there as his eyes scanned the busy waiting area. It was a miracle in itself that he’d been able to function enough to get himself through the traffic and over here.
“You made it,” Cole murmured in his ear, and when he released him, Logan merely looked at him. “Hey, why don’t you come and sit down. Rachel’s right over here.”
As Cole turned to walk him over to the sitting area, Logan grabbed the arm of his jacket and stopped him.
“Tell me what happened,” he said, his voice sounding foreign, detached, even to himself.
“Why don’t you come and sit down first?”
Logan stepped in until only inches separated them and demanded, “Tell me what happened.”
“I wasn’t there,” Cole explained as he clasped his arm. “I only know what Rachel has told me.”
Logan’s heart was working overtime as it tried to keep up, getting shock after shock. He looked beyond Cole’s shoulder and found Rachel seated in the corner of the waiting room, her arms wrapped around her stomach and her bloodshot eyes glued to him.
“She was there?” Logan asked, not taking his eyes away from her.
“Yeah, she was in a cab about to leave. They just finished checking her for shock, but she insists she’s fine. She wanted to be here when you arrived.” Cole squeezed his arm, but Logan’s eyes were fixated on the haunted ones holding his. “She saw it all happen. Called the ambulance and then called me.”
Without a word, Logan pulled away from Cole and walked past the chairs filled with people to where Rachel was sitting. When he stopped in front of her, he didn’t say anything, but as she stared up at him, her blue eyes brimming with tears, she finally lost it.
She got to her feet, tears falling over her blotchy cheeks. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Logan.”
Logan mechanically wound his arms around her as she continued to cry. He felt numb as he listened to her weep.
“He…he was so happy. Couldn’t wait to get home to you, and then…” She stopped and sucked in a breath, and when she pulled away, Logan swore he could see all of his worst fears in her eyes. They spoke the words she couldn’t seem to manage.
What she’d witnessed was horrific. The pain and fear swirling in those usually sparkling eyes were gut wrenching. It was the kind of anguish one never forgets, and as she covered her mouth, fighting back a sob, Logan knew she’d been through hell. A hell he needed her to tell him about. One he needed her to walk him through so he could understand exactly what had happened to the man he loved.
He touched her cheek and somehow managed to speak. “Will you tell me?”
She took a shaky breath before replying, “Yes.”
Logan took the seat beside her, and when she reached for his hand, he wondered if he was as strong as the tiny woman sitting beside him, because he wasn’t sure he was ready to hear this.
“We had just finished for the day, and Tate… He was getting on his bike to come and see you.”
“That fucking bike,” he muttered, his stomach knotting as he remembered all the times he’d joked about it with Tate.
Rachel nodded and clasped his hand in hers as if she needed the strength of another to get through the rest. “He had his helmet on, thank God, so it protected his head, but the car was going so fast. And before he had time to move, he… He was thrown so far, Logan.”
She chewed her lower lip, and her chin started to quiver. Logan squeezed her fingers, fighting back his own emotions, unable to imagine what she’d seen—and not wa
nting to.
“I raced over to him as soon as it happened, and he was just lying there in the middle of the street. He wasn’t moving. And I know you aren’t supposed to touch someone, but I…I just couldn’t leave him there.”
Logan’s chest ached to the point where he wondered if his heart could take any more. It physically hurt to hear what she was saying—as if it were splitting in two. But he needed to know more. He needed to know everything. So he clamped his teeth together and kept his mouth shut.
Hold it together, Mitchell. Be fucking strong.
“I took his hand and kept telling him I was there. But he wouldn’t wake up. He just lay there—so still. Then I called the ambulance and Cole, and he said he’d call you.”
When she raised her eyes to his, she shook her head as if she were still in shock. She opened her mouth several times before she said, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should’ve made him take a cab with me. Should’ve warned him—”
Logan couldn’t get his tongue to work to tell her that it wasn’t her fault, so he pulled her into his arms instead.
Tate. His gorgeous, stubborn Tate was somewhere in the hospital, unconscious and fighting for his life. And what am I doing? I’m out here trying not to fall apart.
He saw Cole watching them from the opposite chair and that’s when Logan pulled back and managed to ask Rachel, “Did the paramedics or doctor say anything before they took him back?”
Rachel tried to focus on him through the blur of tears. “Not a lot. I heard them discussing possible broken ribs and a pneumothorax?”
Jesus. This can’t really be happening, can it? Logan shut his eyes and tried to tell himself that everything would be okay. Tate was in surgery. He was in the best place he could be. But no matter how many times he told himself that, the reality was he was fucking terrified.
Letting go of Rachel’s hand, Logan got to his feet like someone in a trance and made his way past Cole, who looked up at him with a question in his eyes. But Logan had no answers, and he wanted some. He wanted to know from the doctors what was going on.