People had come and gone from the waiting room. Been seen, healed, and told to go home with a few pills—they would live to see another day. As for him, he was waiting in a room with his eyes fixated on a door in the hopes that the one person he’d thought he would never want to see again would walk through.
Diana. She was the only one who could get him access, and he’d gone over every kind of conversation imaginable so he was prepared when—or if—she decided to come out.
Logan squeezed his eyes shut and brought a hand to his face. He rubbed his gritty eyes and then looked at the clock on the wall. Hours. It had literally been hours, and he knew nothing more than what he’d originally been told.
And really, what are the odds she’ll come out here and tell me anything more?
If he was honest, she was the last person he’d want to engage with if the situation was reversed, and as that hard truth settled in the pit of his stomach, he felt bile rise in his throat.
“Logan?”
Not willing to take his eyes away from the locked doors leading to the inner halls of the hospital, he didn’t bother turning his head. He remained silent and focused.
That was when a woman in a white lab coat and a black dress stepped in front of him, blocking his view of the door. He raised his head, ready to tell her to get out of the way, but when his vision cleared, the doctor turned out to be someone he knew. He was almost shocked out of his grief by who was standing in front of him.
“Logan?” she said again, bending at the waist to touch his shoulder.
“Shelly?”
She gave him a tight smile as he tried to work out what was going on. “Hi.”
He blinked a couple of times, and when he couldn’t think of anything to say, she offered a hand.
“Want to come for a walk with me?”
The bold blonde he’d met only weeks ago at game night was nowhere to be found. In her place was a sophisticated doctor. But Logan wasn’t budging. He shook his head and turned away from her.
“No. I’m waiting.”
She stepped in front of him again and crouched down so they were eye to eye, and as she gave a slight nod, she told him, “I know.” She placed a hand on his knee and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I don’t know if Cole told you, but I’m a pulmonologist here at the hospital.” When it was clear he wasn’t about to say anything, she said, “Come for a walk,” and straightened to her full height.
When he looked up at her, the expression in her eyes finally had him getting to his feet quietly. Cole and Rachel were still resting, and he didn’t want to wake them.
Shelly glanced at the two of them and smiled. “I’ll tell one of the girls over there to let them know you’re with me if they wake.”
After Logan agreed, she approached the front desk, chatted with one of the women behind it, and then turned back to face him. He looked to the double doors one last time and then to Shelly, deciding that five minutes talking to her couldn’t hurt, right?
He walked over to where she was standing and then followed her lead as she wandered with him down the hall toward the vending machines.
“I’m so sorry to hear about Tate. I hope you don’t mind, but Cole called me this evening after you arrived here at the ER and were refused any information on his condition.”
Logan still didn’t have anything to say, so he remained silent until she stopped walking. Then he too halted his steps.
“I’m not supposed to do this, but”—she grabbed his arm and pulled him into a small alcove where there were two water fountains—“I know how much you care about him, and if I were you, I’d be going out of my ever-lovin’ mind.”
The slight Southern inflection that entered her feisty tone was the first thing that slipped through Logan’s numb state, but still, it wasn’t enough to get a verbal response.
“I spoke to the surgeon who worked on Tate when he was brought in and found out as much as I could. The first thing you need to know is that his condition is serious. They’ve listed it as guarded.”
Logan took a step back and used the wall as a prop to hold him up just in case his knees gave out from what she was about to tell him.
“He suffered a broken clavicle and two broken ribs, one which punctured his right lung, causing it to collapse. Also known as a pneumothorax.”
“Oh, God,” Logan muttered, the words escaping without any conscious thought, as he ran a hand through his hair. Gripping the back of his neck, he sucked his top lip behind his lower teeth, trying to keep the shout that was bubbling up inside him from slipping free.
“I know this is hard to hear. Do you want me to stop?” Shelly reached for his arm, a physical show of support.