A moment passed between us; silent words of comfort. “If that’s what you want, of course. I’ll be on the other side of that door if you need me.”

I nodded, grateful he was stowing away his tenacious personality for once.

“I love you,” he mouthed before righting himself and walking out with hesitant steps.

Once the door was shut behind him, I lay back, stretching out my legs and resting my head on the pillow. Tara opened the robe fully to reveal my hidden injuries, and then, in the most unaffected tone possible, explained that there was some glass she needed to remove—remnants of the attack left behind inside me.

I closed my eyes to block it out, but it was becoming real. My defenses were cracking.

No, no, no. I’d rather be numb than a crying mess. Not again. I sucked in a deep breath, filling my lungs and chanting in my head, I’m stronger than this. I’m stronger than this.

The slivers she extracted were nothing compared to the assaulting images striving to burst through my chant and confront my defenses. I didn’t want to deal, didn’t want to understand. I just wanted the day to end.

But what I wanted didn’t seem to matter. The memory of Kurt’s grimy claws caused my gut to roll—his brutal hands forcing me onto the floor, his elbow shoved against my back.

I’m stronger than this. Stronger. So much stronger.

I shielded my face with my arms, stifling a sob—not from fear or trauma, but anger. For the first time since the attack, I felt a swelling ache between my shoulder blades that I was certain was the beginning of a nasty bruise. Worst of all was the touch of him, his bare skin pressed to mine. He had no right! My body had endured enough in the accident only two months earlier, and now it was happening again.

‘Angry’ wasn’t the right word for what I was feeling in that moment. I was pissed.

I wiped the tear prickling my eye before it could sneak out, then leapt up to a seated position. That bastard wouldn’t reduce me to tears—not here, not yet.

“Cassandra, I need to finish.”

My eyes met Tara's, and whatever she saw there caused her determination to waver. She pulled away, reached into her bag, and held out a tube of ointment.

“Here, put this over the wounds twice daily. You don’t need stitches. All the glass is out, and it didn’t embed deep. You can take Tylenol for the soreness and any aches you have, unless it becomes worse.”

“Thank you.”

Finally ready to really see, I looked down at my stomach. It was bright red, and covered with a few abrasions spread over what looked like a nasty case of rug burn.

Tara pulled off her gloves and tossed them in the trash. “You’re all set. If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to come into the ER or call your doctor.”

I closed the robe and offered an appreciative smile.

She mimicked me and stood, crossing the room to the door where Logan, as promised, was standing on the other side. The instant she passed him he was beside me, his fingers interlocking with mine.

“Cassandra,” he breathed, pulling me up and into his arms for an embrace. It was something we both needed.

“I want so badly to restart this day…anything to bring back the light in your eyes, the smile to those beautiful lips.” He kissed the side of my head. “I should have been here. Should have known he was out. Should have…” His body began to stiffen.

Logan was the last person that should’ve felt guilt. I held him closer, locking my arms around his waist as I shook my head, silencing him. The scruff of his cheek drew me closer. I inhaled his heady scent and rested my head on his broad shoulder, his voice breaking through our heavy silence after a moment’s pause.

“I want to take you away from here. Christ, if I could erase what happened—” He released a pained sigh then pulled back slowly, his eyes searching mine.

“You have to know by now I’d do anything, Cassandra. I can’t bear the thought of you hurting and not being able to have you to myself right now—to comfort you the way you deserve. But I’m here…whatever you need, whatever you want. Say the words, and I’ll take care of it. I’ll take care of you. It’s all I want to do…always.”

“I know.” I balanced up on my toes and placed my lips against his. “And I love you for that.”

He kissed me back, but it was restrained and swift as a voice interrupted us.

“Miss Clarke, the—oh, I’m sorry. Excuse me.”

Logan and I both turned toward the officer, who ducked out of the room as quickly as he’d strolled in.

“I think they’re waiting on us,” I said, staring back up into the brilliant depths of emotion in his eyes. It was paralyzing.

His free hand caressed my cheek, tucking a stray hair behind my ear. “They need your statement. If—”

“I’m ready,” I interrupted, not wanting to overthink it. There was no way to avoid giving the report to the sheriff. It had to be done. Kurt had to be punished.

Logan watched me, gauging the emotions he was expecting to see, but I had nothing to offer him. It was time to recite all the facts out loud—to get it on paper and move on.

Logan cupped my face. “If you need time or...”

I shook my head. “No. I want to get it over with.” I need to get it over with.

A faint smile touched his lips. “Always so strong.” His thumbs traced the contours of my cheeks. I closed my eyes and leaned into his comforting touch.

Logan had become, in such a short time, the only person who was able to lift me up when I was down so low. It was a discovery I cherished.

“I’m here, sweetheart.” He pressed a soft, tender kiss to my lips. “We’ll get through this. I promise.”

I knew we would. I believed in him—in us.

With his hand settled on the small of my back, he guided me out of the room. We proceeded down the hall toward the end, where my bedroom was located.

The door was destroyed, its remnants left still hanging from the hinges. As our steps grew closer, the voices and shadows of officers inside gripped my attention. The click of a camera rang through my ears and sent a shiver down my spine. It was like being in a horror movie.

We continued walking, turning the corner into the living room. As we did, I glanced into my room to catch sight of the blood stain on the floor—the floor Kurt had held me down against, his body pressed against mine. His erection…

I slammed my eyes shut to push the memory away and shook my head, quickening my steps.

“Hey, you don’t have to do this yet,” Logan whispered, stopping abruptly and moving in front of me. He lifted my chin. “They’ll understand.”

“I need to,” I murmured.

“Cassandra,” a familiar voice said. I looked past Logan to find the burly man with a receding hairline I’d known since childhood: the deputy sheriff and my mother’s boss, Harry Mackwell.

He opened his arms and I walked straight into them. Harry had always smelled of warm spice, and today I sought comfort in it.

“How are you?” he asked when I stepped back.

“You know me,” I replied coyly as Logan slipped his hand back in mine.

“I do.” Harry gave a somber nod, then looked over to Logan. “I hate to jump right into it, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to speak to this young man first.”