Thursday, March 9, 2023

READ THE NEXT CHAPTER WITH ME


MEET ME IN MAINE

Did Logan survive the attack at the restaurant? How many victims will the evil curse claim before it’s finished?

Chapter 11

I trailed behind David at the hospital through a maze of corridors, announcements ringing in our ears, overhead fluorescent lights bouncing off the too-white walls. He reached for my hand when my steps slowed, and I took a deep breath. “I hate hospitals.”

“No one likes hospitals, but they’re a necessity.”

I frowned at his response.

A nurse exited as we entered Logan’s room. He lay on the bed, his eyes closed, a white bandage covering the left side of his head, closest to us. His eyes opened at our footsteps, and Logan tilted his head to see us.

I ran past the empty bed to reach him. “How are you?” I extended my hand before dropping it at my side. “We should have brought flowers or a gift.”

His slow grin made my heart flutter. “I don’t need gifts, just you.”

David cleared his throat.

Logan chuckled. “I need you too.”

“What happened?” His eyes flashing, David sauntered to the opposite side of the bed.

Logan glanced at him. “All business, no ‘how do you feel’ from you?”

“You’re conscious.” David cocked an eyebrow. “So, you’re fine.”

I inched closer to the bed and touched his hand. “What happened?”

Logan looked at me, his gray eyes softening, his chiseled face gaunt. “I spotted two men lurking on the pier behind the fish restaurant, so I tracked them until they ambushed me on a side street. While I was tackling one of them, the other hit me. The next thing I remember is waking in the hospital attached to tubes.”

“Did you recognize them?” David paced at the foot of the second bed, waiting in the shadows for its next patient, its lights and machinery dark.

Logan faced him with a disdainful expression. “They wore hoodies and dark clothing.”

“That’s it?” David halted, his expression grim.

A grunt escaped Logan’s lips. “Let me see you identify someone who bashed you on the head.”

“I was just checking.” David shrugged. “We’ve been attacked before.”

Logan frowned. “Thanks for the show of sympathy.”

I squeezed his hand. “Did you hear about the woman?”

“I was there.”

“Why were you there?” David asked, his voice hardening.

“The chief heard rumors of an attack at tonight’s opening.” Logan closed his eyes. “He asked me to check the restaurant.”

“The chief expected an attack?” I let go of his hand. “Scarlett was there.”

He opened his eyes, giving me a glassy stare. “I didn’t know until I saw her and Jonathan.” Logan winced. “I was approaching Scarlett when the woman… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” I grabbed his hands in both of mine. “They could have killed you. You should rest.”

David grunted and strode from the room.

“We’ll return tomorrow.” I gave Logan a wistful look before hurrying after David into the corridor.

While he marched ahead of me to the nurses’ station, his tense words drifted to me over his shoulder, “I’m going to speak to the nurses before I drive you home.”

I waited as three nurses surrounded him, eager to answer his questions. After nodding to them, David led me to an empty lounge. “Do you need to sit?”

I shook my head.

“Logan has a severe concussion… they’re taking him for an MRI.”

“Poor Logan; you could have been nicer to him.”

“He has a thick head. This isn’t his first concussion or mine.”

“Are you trying to comfort me?” I frowned. “Your technique isn’t working.”

David shoved his hands into his pockets. “I guess not.” He searched my face. “I’ll take you home… I’m sorry for the way our date ended.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Blue Harbor has an awful habit of interfering in my life,” he said as we followed the twisting hallways to the exit. 

At my apartment, he stood in the hallway, watching me. “I’ll wait until you lock the door behind you.”

I unlocked the door, stepped inside, and turned to him.

A hooded expression crossed his face. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” The soulful chords of Tchaikovsky’s “Pas de Deux” from The Nutcracker drifted from his jacket. He pulled the offending cell phone from his pocket, glancing at the screen. “The chief is calling. Lock the door,” he said, backing into the hallway and motioning to the lock.

I shut the door and locked it. Date finished.

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