Pressing her back against the hall wall inches from the doorway, Paige listened to the family reunion, so very glad they’d found their way back together. The Xanders didn’t do a whole lot of clarifying as to why they’d suddenly let Logan back into the fold, and Logan didn’t demand an explanation. All that would no doubt come later, after the shock had worn off. For now, they simply seemed happy to be together again, and Paige was happy they were happy.
“So how many stitches do you have?” one of the brothers asked a couple minutes later.
“Actually, I don’t know if they’re staples or stitches,” Logan said, “and I didn’t ask how many. I don’t think I want to know.”
Paige grinned, thinking that sounded like the perfect Logan answer. Relieved she could listen to his voice and hear him give a Logan kind of response, she closed her eyes and pressed her hand to her heart, sending up a prayer of thanks. She’d come so close to losing him forever.
“I didn’t think puncture wounds like a gunshot needed stitches,” Mr. Xander mused aloud.
Logan gave a weak chuckle. “Yeah. Well, I guess they had to open me up a little more to operate on a couple things that had gotten nicked.”
“Nicked?” Paige echoed aloud. More worried than concerned about privacy and family time, she whirled from the hallway to gape at him through the threshold. “Where did you get nicked?”
Was it serious? An important organ he could never use again? Would he have lasting damage, or could it get worse later on?
He glanced up and immediately sucked in a gasp. “You’re here.” His voice was breathless, his blue eyes alive with emotion. “When you passed out, I didn’t know if the bullet had gone through me and hit you or what.”
She blanched, pretty sure she never wanted him to learn that’s exactly what had happened.
“You were there too?” One of his brothers glanced at her with wide, curious eyes as she slowly edged into the room. “Sweet. What happened?”
Logan shook his head. “Trust me. It was not sweet.”
“So what happened?” the other brother repeated. He looked like the older of the two. Caleb, Paige decided, remembering his name.
“He saved my life,” she spoke up, her eyes only for Logan. “That’s what happened. We were hiding in this alley away from…from…” Einstein. Her insides wrenched with misery just thinking about Einstein. “…the gunman, when he found us. Logan lunged in front of me and shielded me with his body.”
“Dude.” Jake, the younger brother, gawked at Logan in awe. “You’re, like, a hero.”
Logan shook his head again and winced. “No.”
“Yes,” Paige countered. “You kept me trapped behind you.” She shuddered, remembering those helpless horrifying moments. “You protected me with your own body.”
“And you were talking him down until I opened my big mouth,” he countered.
She hugged herself. “I don’t think so. He was so unstable he would’ve shot us both.” The dull dead look in Einstein’s eyes the moment before he’d pulled the trigger would haunt her for the rest of her life.
“Well, however it happened,” Logan’s mom spoke up, cuddling reassuringly close to her son, “I’m just glad it’s over and you’re both okay.”
“Me too,” Logan echoed, his gaze sliding to Paige. She felt warm and cherished under his inspection.
When a soft knock came from behind her, everyone in the room glanced up to see two more people hovering hesitantly in the doorway.
Her father made eye contact with her and moaned out a sound like a wounded animal. “My baby.” He charged forward and enveloped her into a large bear hug. “I’m so glad, I’m so glad,” he chanted into her hair as he hugged her tight.
Unable to remember the last time she’d touched Paul Zukowski, Paige clung to him, noticing he didn’t feel as full in her arms as he used to. He’d lost a great deal of weight over the last few years.
Skinny or not, he was holding her now, and she was glad to be in his arms. She buried her face in his neck and shuddered. “Daddy.”
“That was too close,” he said as he pulled back to look her over. “Too close. I can’t lose my little girl. I just…can’t.” When he cupped her cheeks in his hands, his face went red as he began to cry. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for the way I’ve treated you. I’ll change. I swear to God. Just don’t leave me too.”
When he hugged her once more, she whispered, “I won’t. Not ever.”
Kayla crowded in then to make it a group hug, and Paige realized her best friend wasn’t just a friend, she was a part of her family. Glad she had her family with her and that they’d progressed to human contact, and Logan’s family had come for him, she had a feeling things could only get better from here.
With the support of their loved ones, she knew they could handle whatever happened next.
Chapter Thirty-Six
AFTER HER HUG-FEST settled down in the middle of Logan’s recovery room, Paige went around introducing everyone and catching Kayla and her dad up on what had happened in the alley.
The link they shared from three years before stirred up a stilted uncomfortable silence as the Xander clan eyed the Zukowski clan with unease. And Paige’s dad narrowed his glare right back at them. But she figured they might as well start getting over the awkwardness now, because if she had her way, she and Logan would be together for a good, long while, and the two families would be pushed together more in the future.
When her father slid a wary gaze to Logan, she held her breath. The two studied each other for far too long before her dad said, “You saved my daughter’s life.”
Logan glanced at her and then back to her father. He didn’t confirm or deny it.
Paul Zukowski cleared his throat and glanced at the floor before he mumbled, “Thank you.”
Logan’s eyes moistened. With his own nod of acknowledgement, he looked too choked up to respond. Paige wanted to go to his side and take his hand. She needed to be close to him. She needed to touch him for that added reassurance to make sure he was okay. But his family was here. Her family was here. She hugged her own waist, feeling bereft.
Her dad touched her elbow. “We should get going.”
When Kayla crowded around her from the other side, she realized they wanted her to go with them. But she shook her head.
“I’m staying.”
She knew the exact moment her dad realized what that meant. His eyes flared, and he swerved another glance toward Logan. But he said nothing, schooling his features until she squirmed inside, wondering what he was thinking.
Clearing his throat, he glanced back to her and gave a short nod. “We’re going to find a hotel to stay in for a few days. Call us when you need us.”
Paige’s eyes misted with relief. He may not readily approve, but at least he wasn’t going to disown her over it. “Thanks,” she choked out.
He nodded again and motioned for Kayla to follow him. Her friend gave her a hard, quick hug goodbye and hurried after Paul. Once they were gone, the Xander family visibly relaxed.
They started talking about the day’s events. What was worse, as they gabbed on about the shooting, a silent Logan kept throwing her concerned glances. He knew how much talk of Einstein bothered her. But she was too worried about him to focus her thoughts on her young, troubled, dead friend.
The shadows under his eyes grew darker, and the hollows in his cheeks more gaunt. After his surgery, he must be exhausted.
She shifted surreptitiously closer, stopping just behind his shoulder at his right side. “Looks like you need some rest,” she murmured for his ears alone. “Do you want us to clear out and give you some peace?”
“I don’t want you to,” he said softly as he lifted his chin so he could look up at her, his gaze holding hers with a wealth of emotion.
She flushed warm. She wouldn’t mind if everyone except her left him alone either.
“Well, I don’t know about anyone else,” his mom called, lifting her voice above th
e hushed conversations circulating the room. “But I’m starving. None of us had lunch or dinner, and it’s almost one in the morning.”
She set her hand on Paige’s arm. “Paige?”
Paige opened her mouth to decline. Logan wanted her to stay, so she would stay. But instead of asking her along, his mother merely smiled. “Can we get you anything while we’re there?”
Paige blinked, not expecting such understanding. “Umm…no thanks.”
Logan lifted his hand. “Could you get her some blueberry muffins and an iced caramel latte?”
Lifting her eyebrows, Paige turned to give him a questioning look.
He frowned back, wrinkling his forehead in confusion. “What?”
“Just how do you know what her favorite food and drink are?” His brother, Caleb, was the one to ask, a mischievous smile tightening his lips.
“Oh, leave them alone,” his mother scolded, taking the boy’s arm and dragging him from the room. Glancing over her shoulder, she sent Logan a long, assessing look. “We’ll be back.”
As the last person filed from the room, leaving her alone with Logan, Paige moved down closer to his side. He immediately reached for her. She clasped his fingers eagerly.
She touched his brow, worried about how pale he was, how dark the bruises under his eyes looked.
Grinning, he reached up and grabbed her fingers off his face until he was holding both her hands. “I’m fine.”
“But you look—”
“I’ll be fine,” he insisted. “I’m more worried about you. I know Einstein was your friend.”
She winced from just hearing that name. “I just got over my brother’s death, and I’m still working through my mom’s. Plus, you insist I have a near-rape to work through. I think Einstein will have to get in line and wait his turn.”
Logan’s eyes filled with pity. “You’ll get through it,” he assured. “You’re strong. And besides…I’ll be there with you.”
She stared at him, feeling settled—complete.
“So your family looked happy to see you,” she said, needing to change the subject away from Einstein.
“Yeah.” He blew out a breath. “Who knew I’d just have to get shot for them to accept me again?”
Paige let go of one of his hands to nudge his arm in reprimand. “Ha ha,” she muttered. “Not funny.”
He smiled. “So I guess that ends three years of misery.” His blue eyes searched hers. “And begins who-knows-how-many more years of recovering from this.”
Paige closed her eyes. “So many people died today. Too many people. I can’t believe he did it.”
Bringing her hand to his lips, Logan kissed her fingers. “Hey, try not to think about that right now. We’ll have plenty of time to deal with it all later.”
She snorted. “So what do you suggest I think about?”
A sudden grin split his lips wide. “You could always think about me.”
Paige rolled her eyes. “I always think about you anyway.”
Lifting his eyebrows, Logan looked suddenly interested. “Always?”
“Since the first day I came to Granton and saw you across a crowded classroom,” she said, “you’ve never been far from the forefront of my mind.”
“I couldn’t get you out of my head either,” he confessed. “Even though I knew you hated me, there was something about you. Which makes me wonder, is this poor bed-ridden guy going to get his happy ending and snag the girl, or what?”
Paige gaped at him, unable to believe she saw uncertainty on his face. “Uh…” For a moment, she was too bewildered to speak. “Let’s see. I raced toward a bloody massacre to make sure you were okay and defied my own father to stay here with you. Not to mention, you swept in like a total hero, literally stepping in front of a speeding bullet to save my life. Um, yeah, I’d say you snagged the girl.”
He closed his eyes, looking satisfied. “Good. That’s all I needed to hear.”
“Is that so?” she teased, hitching up one eyebrow. “So you didn’t need to hear that your entire family was here to see you?”
He opened his eyes. “Okay, that was pretty amazing too. I couldn’t believe it when Mom told me you’d gone to talk to them, though. She said you got them thinking so much they’d actually hired a private investigator to find me.”
Paige’s mouth dropped open. “They didn’t know where you were? Goodness, that hadn’t even occurred to me. I could’ve told them that.”
He grinned, looking amused by her surprise. “I love you so much.”
“And that’s what I needed to hear.” With a grin, Paige squeezed his hand and immediately loosened her grip when she brushed her thumb over his IV. She tried to pull away, afraid she’d hurt him, but he wouldn’t let her go.
Eyes losing their cheerful gleam, he grew serious. “Will you marry me?” When her mouth fell open, he rushed to add, “I mean, someday. Maybe after we both graduate.”
“Or sooner.” Paige’s chest filled with hope.
His breath caught. “Or sooner,” he repeated. A grin exploding across his face, he said, “Wow. That right there was all I needed to hear.”
“Hey.” She fake pouted. “We’ve both already used that line. You can’t get a twofer from it.”
He scoffed. “A twofer?”
She nodded astutely.
He grinned, his eyes dazzling to a brilliant azure, the deep shadows under them looking momentarily clear. “Twofer has to be worse than bad-thing magnet and forthwith. As soon as you get me my thesaurus, I’m letting you borrow it. Besides.” Placing a hand over his heart, he gave a bad imitation of a groan. “I should get my twofer. I’m wounded and drugged.”
Narrowing her eyes, she scowled. “Oh, so we’re pulling out the wounded card already, are we? I hope you don’t think you can get whatever you want for the next few months just because of a little bullet wound to the chest.”
He laughed. A second later, the color fled his face, and he clutched the bandaging over the bullet wound in his chest as his chuckle turned into a real life gasp of pain. “Ouch.”
“Oh my God. Are you okay? Don’t laugh.”
“Sorry,” he choked out, breathing heavily.
“Okay, okay. You can use the wounded card whenever you want. Just don’t pull your stitches, or staples, or whatever they are.”
He chuckled again only to end the laughter on a groan.
“Stop laughing,” she scolded, panicking as he panted through the pain.
“Well, stop being funny,” he wheezed.
“Okay. I’m serious,” she assured him, pulling a straight face. “I’m serious now.”
He rolled his eyes and grinned, but at least he didn’t laugh again. His gaze taking on an affectionate gleam, he shook his head. “Maybe we should just call a priest to my room. I want to marry you right now. Before you kill me with laughter.”
Paige glowed inside even as she folded her arms over her chest. “Trust me. Before I’m done playing Nurse Ratched and making you take all your medicine and drink lots of water, you’ll be begging to push the nuptials back a full decade.”
He didn’t look swayed. In fact, he winked at her. “Bring it.”
Epilogue
PAIGE HELD LOGAN’S HAND as they entered the cemetery. Squeezing his fingers for support, she bumped her shoulder against his until he glanced at her.
“Thanks for coming with me.”
He rolled his eyes and tightened his grip. “Where else would I be?”
She bit her lip, pretending to think about it. “Oh, maybe in bed, resting.”
It had only been a month since the Granton school shooting. A month since the football quarterback had attacked her and her sixteen-year-old genius friend had killed him in retaliation and then slipped off the deep end and gone onto the shooting spree in one of the busiest sections of campus.
A full month, and nothing had returned to normal. Booths were set up in front of nearly every major building on campus to provide counseling for whoever neede
d it. A dozen new members had joined the Tuesday night grief group. And emails from university administration flooded her inbox daily about added safety measures they had decided to take around the university.
She felt like a survivor from a war.
And Logan looked like a survivor from a war. Though his left arm hadn’t been harmed, he wore it in a sling to keep it still. Too much movement, pulling at muscles on his left side, tended to irritate his slowly healing wound.
He’d lost a lot of weight, weight he really couldn’t afford to lose. Paige teased that if they ever went back to visit the cancer center, the nurses would probably mistake him for a patient and refuse to let him leave.
Even though he’d been letting his hair grow, it still wasn’t long enough for her to skim her fingers through yet. It would be someday, though. And she’d be there to play as soon as it was.
“Resting?” he repeated on a grimace as they approached the tombstone they’d come to visit. “But I can only rest when I know you’re nearby.”
He wasn’t lying. She’d stayed with him every night since he’d been released from the hospital. And more often than not, he woke in the wee hours, sweating and panting from a nightmare. He could only fall back to sleep when she curled up beside him and rubbed his back.
But despite all that, Paige still felt getting past the newest tragedy in their lives was going to be easier for them than recovering from the first one, because now they had each other to lean on.
Pausing in front of Trace’s grave, Paige snuggled close to Logan and sighed. “Happy birthday, big brother.”
Next to her, Logan shuddered. “It’s still so weird to see his name written on a headstone.”
Feeling his regret, Paige tilted her face to rest her cheek on his good shoulder. “He’s probably up in heaven now, bragging about how he got the nicest, most expensive marker in the cemetery. He’d love his monument. Especially the epitaph.”
Under his name and dates, the inscription That’s All Folks had been engraved in the black marble.
When Trace was fifteen, he had learned that very phrase had been inscribed on the gravestone of Mel Blanc, a famous voice actor, and he’d laughed about it for weeks, saying he wanted something cool like that on his own marker. So Paige had fought to get it on his after he’d died.