Page 76

I almost laugh at the sheer insanity of that statement.

“Oh, wow,” I say dryly. “A bed? That’s so generous of you.”

“Ryder,” he scolds.

Right, Logan.

Logan, Logan, Logan.

I need to bite my tongue for Logan and hold onto hope that he’s going to find me. I have to stay alive, despite wishing I didn’t have to live through another minute of this.

My jaw tenses, and with every ounce of self-control I have, I mutter a quiet, “Fine.”

His face lights up, and he reaches for my ankles. “Before I untie you, let me make one thing clear, angel. I am in charge here, not you. If you try anything, I will have to hurt you, and I don’t want to. Just listen to me, that’s all you have to do. Okay?” He waits for me to respond so I nod. “Okay. Now, I will untie you and you will go straight over to the bed.” He speaks clearly, so there’s no misunderstanding between us.

I nod again.

“I want you safe, angel. Don’t make me do something we’ll both regret.”

I know he’s not fucking around, but if I see an opportunity for escape, I’m going to take it. If not, I’m going to make him think he can start trusting me. It’s the only option I have left, even though the thought of doing that makes my skin crawl, but if I have to, I will.

He unties the knots at my ankles before reaching for the ones at my wrists. I force myself to stay completely still as his fingers work at the rope. The second my wrists are free, blood rushes back into them. I curl my fingers, my nails digging into my palms to keep from trembling.

He pulls me up and drags me to the bed as I stumble over my feet. “Go on, get comfortable.”

I make my way to the bed before collapsing against the pillows. I don’t feel strong enough to keep myself upright from the lack of usage of my body, so I pick up the book Kyle has selected as he settles in too close for my liking at the end of the bed, even though there are a few feet between us.

Then, without another choice, I open the first page and begin to read.

28

LOGAN

Istand looking around the room. It isn’t much—a single couch, a coffee table we found on the curb, and a mattress and dresser for each of our bedrooms. But none of that matters because this is our home, and we’ll build it up more with time.

It’s just me and Ryder now—no more roommates.

Ryder flops onto the couch, stretching out with a groan. “Man, I don’t even care that we don’t have a TV stand yet. This is perfect.”

I chuckle, setting down a box labeled KITCHEN SHIT and grabbing a beer from the barely-stocked fridge. “I give it a week before you start bitching about the lack of furniture.”

He grins, cracking open his drink and clinking it against mine. “Nah, this place is perfect. You, me, and the rest of our lives. We’re living the dream.”

I snort. “Oh yeah, the dream of being broke as shit while we figure out what to do with our lives. I hope my internship will lead to a job offer. Yours too.”

He takes a sip of his beer, then sits up. “They will, I know it. And, seriously, Logan, this is everything I want. The fact that we’re doing it together makes it even better.”

I feel something in my chest tighten, but I don’t let it show. So I do what I always do with my best friend—I keep it light.

“Yeah, yeah,” I say, knocking the rim of my bottle against his again. “Here’s to us. Two dumbasses figuring it out together.”

He beams at me, and his smile is the last thing I see before I slowly drift back to consciousness. For a few perfect moments, I’m back in our first apartment, preparing for the rest of our twenties as college graduates with the world at our fingertips.

Never once did that version of me imagine we’d be nearly thirty, living separately, and in the situation we’re in right now.

Once I get Ryder back, I’m never letting him go. Ever. I’ll fucking glue him to me if I have to, but we’re doing everything together moving forward. The pain of being without him right now—of the not knowing—is so much worse than my stab wound.

I finally open my eyes and am once again blinded by those horrid fluorescent lights. The fucking endless beep, beep, beep of the machine I’m hooked up to immediately starts to grate on my nerves. Both of my parents are in the room now, and I assume there’s been no update, or they would have woken me up, but it doesn’t stop me from asking.