Page 164 of Snared Rider
Epilogue
Two weeks later…
“You need to rest.”
This is true, but being glued to the sofa or the bed is driving me nuts. It’s been a fortnight since Wilson lost his mind and took Dean and me to the colliery. Since then Logan has been attentive to the point of irritation. Don’t get me wrong, I love that he’s fussing over me and showing an interest, but the mother hen routine is getting old. Fast.
They kept me in the hospital for a week because my throat was a mess and there was some concern over the blow to my head (and subsequent loss of consciousness). Apparently hitting your head twice in as many weeks is a bad thing—who knew? The doctors were worried it could have turned my brain to mush because there was a substantial amount of swelling, but it did eventually recede.
I also came out of my Wilson experience with a dislocated shoulder and my feet were torn to shreds. This makes walking a barrel of laughs—very painful laughs. Still, since the alternative was me lying on a mortuary table, I’m trying not to complain too much.
Besides, compared to Dean I got off lightly. He had internal damage from the beating Wilson had delivered and had to have an operation to repair his spleen, and that was just the start. He also had broken ribs, damage to his face and a broken collarbone.
He’s due home today and so, naturally, I want to see him. There’s nothing like sharing a near-death experience to create closer ties.
I also want to ensure he isn’t giving himself down the banks about the fact I got caught up in this, because knowing Dean as I do I’m sure he’s beating himself up.
So, yes, I want to visit him, and I want to do it today.
I was already prohibited from seeing him in the hospital while I was recuperating. I don’t want to leave it too long. I don’t want him to think I’m pissed off at him.
However, Logan is not keen for me to leave the flat, and this has been the source of our argument for the past ten minutes.
“I’ve been resting since I left the hospital; I want to see him.”
“Beth—”
I cut him off with a wave of my hand and pull out the big guns. I don’t want to do this, but Logan isn’t leaving me any choice.
“I want to see him. My last memory of Dean was him on that hook, half-dead after taking a battering from Wilson. I need to know he’s okay.”
Logan stares at me and I can see his brain working in overdrive before he reaches a conclusion. I can tell it’s a conclusion he doesn’t like when he mutters, “Fuck.”
“Yeah, fuck. So, help me get there or don’t—either way I’m going.”
His hand goes into his dark hair and I can’t help the feelings it invokes.
Lord.
The man is sexy as sin.
And he is.
Beautiful.
Stunning.
Perfect.
And mine.
That is not changing. Do we still have issues to overcome? Sure. Trust will take time to rebuild, but we will rebuild it eventually. And he really is trying hard. That makes it easier to let go of the past.
“Anyone ever told you that you’re really bloody stubborn?”
I smile at him. “Babe, you do know I’m a Goddard, right? Stubborn is pretty much our middle name.”
“I thought yours was Marie.”