Finding Me (The Bad Boy Series) (7 page)

"I need some air," I panted as I took heaving breath after heaving breath.

"Logan, what's going on?" she asked desperately, her eyes wide and filled with worry.

"I ... I, shit." I couldn't get anything out, the pain in my chest was becoming so intense my head spun.

"Just breathe through it, you're having a panic attack. In through your nose, out through your mouth." Low's voice had become soft and smooth as I tried to take in air through my nose, pushing it out through my mouth. Seconds passed as the pain finally let up, I could finally breathe.

"I can't do this anymore, I can't protect someone I love if they don't know I fucking exist," I said on a whisper, my own words penetrated my heart like a tackle to my chest.

"Christ, you really do love her, don't you?" The shock in Low's voice didn't go unnoticed, it was as if she finally understood. I was Neva's, my heart belonged to her.

"I always have, Low. Always."

Chapter Seven

Neva

They say when confronted with something traumatizing, your mind tries to help ease the pain, changing your once colorful world into a hazy blanket of sepia. Colors that were once beautifully vibrant become empty and void, shielding you from the chaos and devastation that no one should witness.

All I could see were muted shades of red and brown, what was supposed to be my world of color was now a dark and desolate place. Even when I opened my eyes it was there, seeping through and turning everything into a bleak resemblance of what I once knew.

My heart jumped into my throat as I opened my eyes once more, the sepia fading to a focal blur as I tried to take in where I was. I knew where I was, I just wasn't ready to accept it. The white wash on the walls was so disarming that I screamed inside. As my eyes darted around the room, I tried to slow my breathing, which was growing more and more desperate with every fleeting second.

"Neva? Can you hear me, sweetheart?"

The sudden echo of a voice punctured my mind, but I couldn't place it; it was distorted and quiet, as if in another language, foreign to my ears. As I tried to move my head to the direction of the mysterious voice, I suddenly realized I couldn't move, I was paralyzed while my world was obscured and empty, the former intensity replaced by dark shadows. It was throwing me into a purgatory where the everlasting pit of fire was the only color you knew.

"Neva, can you hear me?"

The voice was there again. My mind was registering the vocal intrusion but not taking it in. The depth of the voice hooked me, giving me a sense of security, telling me that I was still alive. But I didn’t know if I wanted to be, how could I possibly walk back into a world so full of pain and hatred when I held so much of it deep inside of me? A world that I wasn't sure I was going to see full of life and color again, a life where truth is inconsequential and betrayal was unavoidable.

"She is groggy, she was given a big dose of sedatives. She will come round when she's ready."

Everything was like an echo, I could hear everything: the voices, the machines, the footsteps. But they came in waves, crashing through my ear drums like a tidal bore. I could hear the tapping and shuffling of feet against the floor, the steady strum of the machines, the dejected voices that echoed all around me.

"Will she be okay?"

The voice I had longed to hear lunged through the bottomless pit I was free-falling down, catching me just before I plunged into the everlasting darkness. Slowly, my vision cleared, the sepia that had taken over my sight was now just a dull glow soaked into the background. The lifeless realm I had awoken to was now just a distant memory, the color that I thought had been stolen was back and even more luminous than I thought possible.

"Logan."

I winced, my throat screamed in agony as if I had swallowed razor blades. I turned my head towards his smooth voice, the shadows I had seen amongst the sepia haze were now people I recognized. Mom, Logan and Tate stood around me, worry etched across their faces as they looked down at me. I suddenly felt the urge to vomit, the bile quickly rising to my throat at such speed that I didn't have time to react.

"Okay, sweetie, here you go."

A voice I didn't recognize appeared from my left, it was soft and gentle as she placed a bowl in my hands. The bile that had quickly surfaced to my throat erupted just as I tightened my grip around the  bowl, the intensity of the acidic bile burning as it passed my lips, scorching my already tender throat.

"It's a side effect of the sedatives, it should wear off soon. I'll be back with some anti-nausea meds," she said in a sympathetic voice before leaving the room.

"My throat," I husked, never taking my eyes off of the bowl that was resting in my hands.

"I'll ask the nurse if you can have some water, sweetheart." Mom paused, as if collecting herself. "Come on, Tate."

I looked through the layers of matted hair that had fallen in front of my eyes, watching as my brother cringed at my mother’s gentle touch on his shoulder.

"I'll be back soon, baby girl," Tate whispered, stepping away from Mom's touch and placing a feather-light kiss on my forehead.

I could hear footsteps again. I didn't dare look up, I didn't want to look in to those brown eyes that held so much pain. Pain that I had put there.

"Do you have any idea how uncomfortable those damn chairs are?" Logan laughed, the groggy husk in his voice sending chills throughout my painful body.

His humor was so unexpected that it completely caught me off-guard, pulling a chuckle from my lips. But I quickly winced when my throat constricted in pain. Talking was going to be even more painful, but I had questions that I needed answered.

"What happened?" I asked, but I didn't hear Logan's reply. My eyes quickly darted around the room I was sitting in, it was white. All white.

Suddenly it wasn't just the walls that were a wash of white, my body took on a grey hue as I realized where I was. I was in a hospital, just like my father. The walls felt as though they were moving in on me, trapping me, consuming me, making me feel the hurt and the pain. Not just the pain I've had to endure over the last ten years, but the pain from what my body had clearly dealt with.

"Neva? Neva, you're not doing this again," Logan gritted, grabbing my face between his hands. I couldn't look at him, I wouldn't look at him. I closed my eyes, I was safe there. I wasn't in a white hospital room, I wasn't with the man whom I had broken in two. I. Was. Safe.

"Neva, look at me dammit!" Logan's harsh tone quickly made me open my eyes. "You are stronger than this, it's just a room. It isn't going to hurt you, I promise."

The eyes that I swore I wouldn't look into had suddenly lured me in, they were filled with so much promise but so much uncertainty, and I couldn't look away. The walls that I had built crumbled and crashed to the ground in an instant, making me vulnerable. My shattered heart was exposed to the only man who could ever truly know me, who had held my world together when I was sure it was ending.

"You're safe."

"How is it that even though I hurt you, you're still here?" I asked, watching as his deep chocolate eyes tore through my soul and penetrated every single piece of my heart.

"You already know the answer to that question, Neva," he whispered, his thumbs rubbing lazy circles on the tender flesh of my cheeks.

"Okay, here are your anti-nausea meds. I'm Nora, by the way, and the doctor should be around to see you soon," the nurse said as she walked back into the room, placing my meds on the tray table beside me.

Logan quickly moved back, his warm hands leaving my sensitive skin. He ran his hands through his hair roughly as he looked down to the ground, seemingly deep in thought.

"I'll be back soon," he said after a beat.

Within a blink of an eye he was gone, leaving me alone in the small, white room with my nurse, Nora. She must have been in her late forties, her dark locks pulled into a tight ponytail, making her grey roots stand out. Her face was smooth and carefree, apart from the tiny wrinkles at the corners of her hazel eyes. She was short, maybe around five feet, three inches
.

"Thank you," I whispered hoarsely as I reached out for my pills.

"Here you go, sweetie." Nora smiled as she poured a small cup of water out, gently placing it in my swollen, red hands. "I have just spoken to Dr. West, he should be here soon. Now, if there is anything you need, you can press this here button."

She placed a white keypad beside me on the bed, the musky scent of her perfume gently caressed my nostrils as she placed a fresh cup of water next to my meds. The scent suddenly reminded me of Viv. I tried to sit up but a sudden sharp pain shot through my shoulder, leaving me breathless.

"What's wrong, honey?" Nora said, her face full of concern as she made her way back to my bedside.

"Viv," I whispered, desperately trying to make her understand that I had to see her. I had to make sure she was okay. But I was met with a face full of confusion, of course she didn't understand. She didn't know the extent of what I saw, she didn't know what Viv had to go through. What I had to go through

"She's fine."

Logan's voice pulled me out of my panic. His voice was soft and soothing to my ears as he walked into the room. He nodded at Nora in acknowledgment, as if talking to her in a secret language; she smiled back softly before leaving the room.

"I've just checked on her, she is fine. The surgery went well," he said, walking slowly over to my bedside, standing where Nora was only moments before.

"Surgery?" I asked. The word was hard to wrap around my painful throat as I searched Logan's eyes. There was something different about them, they seem more golden than before. They weren't mix of green and brown anymore, they were like lakes filled with pure gold.

"She needed surgery to repair the wound on her leg. She'll be outta here in a couple of days," he whispered.

I sighed as I took in what he had said. Jack had hurt her to the point that she needed surgery, he had damaged her, physically and emotionally. The scar that she could be left with would fade eventually, but the scars on the inside would never truly disappear.

"I need to see her," I said, trying to move into a sitting position again. But the pain that splintered my shoulder and head pushed me right back down again, everything ached.

"No, you need to stay in bed," Logan growled, his tone was rough and harsh. It was unexpected, and so were the butterflies that fluttered around in my stomach from it. His voice was my vice, my addiction. It could be smooth one minute, then rough and dark the next. This time was a combination of the voice he used when he was protecting me and the voice he used to sooth me.

"But I need to see her," I pleaded, my voice small and pitiful from the pain in my throat.

"Dammit, Neva, will you just do as you're told for once?" Logan growled; his voice became  harsher and rougher with every word he spoke. "I can't keep protecting someone who doesn't want to be protected. I can't keep doing this, Neva. You need to learn how to protect yourself, I just can't do it. You're breaking every single piece of me. You need to find the girl inside you who isn't afraid, who isn't guilty, and who isn't racked with demons. You need to let go of the past, before you stay stuck in it forever."

"W... what?" His words hit me hard, like a god damn freight train. It was so left field that it came from the right. I didn’t see it coming and his words felt like tiny little needles penetrating my skin all at once, it was a painful ache. My body was covered in bruises from head to toe, I had blotches of bruises that covered three-quarters of my skin. But it was my heart that was most painful, my heart was bruised just from his words.

"You have no idea how many times I played this conversation out in my head. How many ways to do this, ways that would hurt you less. I never want to hurt you, baby. But hurting you is this only way of protecting you right now. I love you, Neva, and that’s why ... why I need to walk away. I'm so sorry, baby. Dammit, I'm so sorry."

No, no, no. This can't be happening. He can't leave me, I need him. Tears stung my eyes as I tried to speak, but the fear of what might actually pour from my mouth left me mute. He was leaving me, leaving me when I needed him most. I could feel the lump forming in my throat, contracting and releasing as I tried to swallow it down. I needed air, I needed Logan. I needed Logan like he was my air. Logan is my air.

"Please." I sobbed, the unshed tears threatening to spill from my eyes.

He didn't move, he just watched as I was about to crumble from the pain that was slicing through my chest. The only movement he made was when a single tear rolled down my cheek, his eyes watching as it slowly made its way down my skin before falling to my neck.

"I'm sorry," he muttered before turning swiftly on his heel and leaving the room.

Chapter Eight

Logan

I. Can't. Breathe.  

It was the only thought that ran through my mind as I ran as far away from the hospital as I could, my lungs burning from the harsh inhale of air I took with every step.