Tracking Logan Foster

{12} I Wouldn't Mind

Buzzing. Whirring. Whispering. Shouting. Beeping. Prodding.

My eyelids felt as though they were cemented together, forever trapping me in absolute darkness as I fought for lucidity. I could hear voices all around me--some familiar, others foreign, but they all droned on as if I wasn't even there.

The unmistakable sound of a gun firing a shot echoed in the room, jarring my body into a jaw-clenching flinch as my heart rate picked up, beating rapidly in my chest.

Eyes flying open only to be stung by the beads of sweat cascading down my forehead, I jumped straight up into a sitting position as I tried to understand what was going on around me. Panicking, I threw my eyes every which way, simultaneously trying to find the gunman or a place for escape.

A slight movement caught the corner of my eye and I whipped around, dark hair obscuring my vision as it draped across my face, a victim of my sporadic movements.

A man shifted in the green plastic chair in the corner of the dim room, and my hands shot up above my head in surrender.

The man's blue eyes sparkled with mischief as his posture straightened before he placed his elbows on his knees and leaned forward on them.

My eyes were betrayed as they sought out the gun that wasn't there. Yet, I could've sworn I'd heard a shot go off, rattling me awake.

"Iris," the man said, icily. His voice alone dropped the temperature of the room several degrees and I shivered as my teeth chattered.

Then I finally took the time to process what was going on to recognize that the man in front of me was Justin Levingston, Logan's brother. A gun hadn't gone off in the room, it'd gone off in my memories, aimed at Logan's head.

I jabbed an accusing finger his way, cringing when a sharp pain flared all the way up my arm, burning in between my shoulder blades. Hissing through my teeth, I demanded, "Why are you here?"

"Now is that any way to thank someone who just saved your life?" He replied, casually answering my question with one of his own.

"W-What?" I sputtered, clutching my aching shoulder.

Justin's eyes rolled and he stood up, sauntering over to me as if he owned the place. When he was standing beside the hospital bed, his arm stretched out and his fingers came beneath my chin, tilting my face up to his.

He spoke evenly, saying, "I saved your life."

In a blind fit of rage, I didn't think before I threw out my injured arm, ramming it right at his mouth. I yelped as the pain increased, shooting up my arm to where it intensified at my shoulder. Justin stumbled back a few steps where he spat a wad of blood on the spotless tiled ground.

Visibly clenching his teeth, Justin angrily ground out, "What was that for?"

I sat as far away from the edge of the bed as I could, matching his glare as I yelled, "How? Why did you save me and not Logan?"

Tears pricked my eyes, but I didn't care when they broke the barrier, freely flowing down my face.

Justin narrowed his eyes, dangerous storms churning in the blue depths as he focused solely on me. I wasn't even scared.