Page 9 of Exiled

I don’t know. Until I tell him what I did.

“You need to rest.” I whisper it. Pleading.

“Can’t avoid it forever, Is.” He sounds sleepy, groggy. Fading, but fighting it.

“I know, Logan. I know.” I twist against him, gently, so very gently kiss his jaw. “Rest. Please.”

He breathes out, long and slow and resigned. “Stubborn girl.”

“You were shot. You need to rest so you can heal.”

“You sound like Dr. Kalawat.”

“I suppose. I met him outside, just before I came in.”

“Good doctor. Nice guy.”

“Yes.” I pat his chest. “Logan?”

“Hmm?”

“Shut up and rest.”

“Stubborn girl.”

I smile. He’s still unequivocally, quintessentially Logan.

I wake up some time later. The room is darkened, but afternoon light peeks through a crack in the curtains.

He’s staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. He sees me, and the pensive expression is replaced by a brighter, happier one. He’s putting on a brave face for me, I think.

“Hey, you,” he says.

I stretch. “Hi.”

“Dr. Kalawat was here. He wants to do some follow-up scans, make doubly sure there’s no damage to my brain. Assuming those come back clear, they’ll keep me a few more days for observation, and then I can go home. I’ll be limited for a while, though. Lots of rest, no exercise, no driving. He wanted to be sure I’d have someone with me.”

“I’ll be there with you, if that’s what you want.”

He seems a little confused by my statement. “Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know. I guess you would.”

“Isabel?”

“He’s still out there. Nothing has really changed. But now you’re injured. You lost an eye.” I have to pause for breath, for courage. “All this is because of me. He wouldn’t care about you if I weren’t in the picture. I’m dangerous to you.”

“Does he know you’re here?”

I shrug. “I don’t know.”

“How did you get away?”

To explain that, I’d have to tell him. How do I tell him?

I hesitated too long.

“Isabel?” His voice is unsure. “Talk to me.”