Fyre & Revenge Read online

  “Hey no! Stay awake, stay with me!” She reached in to grab his hand again but it was limp. He’d slipped back into unconsciousness. “Crap, don’t you dare die on me, you awkward bastard!”

  “Miss, we’re going to need you to move out the way for us please. What’s his name?” A firm voice broke across her worry. Rae turned, sighing with relief when she saw the paramedics. The ambulance had arrived.

  She stepped back, clearing the way for them to check Logan in the car.

  “His name’s Logan, Logan Fyre. He was awake and talking up until a moment ago but then he…” She broke off, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth. Tears threatened, obscuring her vision. What if he died? What if she’d been the last person he’d spoken to in this life and she’d been nasty to him? She couldn’t cope with that, couldn’t live with herself if that happened.

  The paramedic, an older man with kind, faded brown eyes, smiled and reached out to squeeze her arm in reassurance as his partner moved in to check Logan.

  “We’ll look after him love, do you want to sit in the ambulance until we have him out?”

  * * *

  Doctor Marissa Davies sighed as she left the trauma room. She rubbed the back of her neck as she headed to the nurses’ station in the middle of the Emergency department. It had been a long day, but thank the lord it was almost over. Her last patient had turned out to be a fairly simple one, which she had been grateful for. Head injuries had a habit of turning nasty in the blink of an eye. Marissa shuddered, she’d seen too many of those to want to see any more. But she would; it was the nature of the job.

  This one had been kept talking though, only slipping into unconsciousness just before the paramedics had arrived. It always helped when they knew how long a patient had been unconscious. A frown settled between her brows as she rifled amongst the clipboards on the desk for her patient’s file.

  In a swift scrawl she noted the patient’s memory loss. Not unknown for a head trauma, like the brain resetting itself after a shock, so the doctor wasn’t too worried about it. With any luck, after a good night’s sleep things would start coming back to Mr. Fyre.

  “All sorted, Doc?” A voice sounded behind her as Marissa bent over to add her notes to the file, her hand moving in a quick scrawl. Like most doctors, her handwriting could be nigh on illegible, especially after a long day like today. She smiled up at the senior nurse.

  “Oh hey Jo, I didn’t realise you were on tonight. Coming in or going out?” Marissa nodded towards the other woman’s coat.

  “In, more’s the pity. Been here a while but got collared, haven’t had a chance to take this off until now. I understand we have a head injury?” Jo shrugged out of her coat as she walked past Marissa, disappearing into the small staff room behind the station to hang it up.

  “Yeah, he’s been cleaned up and checked out. No fracture, but some bad bruising and concussion. Memory loss too, but I’m hoping it clears up with sleep. I’m just going to inform his wife now, any idea where they put her?”

  “She’s in room two, although I’m surprised you haven’t seen her yet. The girls said she’s been out here every five minutes asking for news, near panic because they couldn’t tell her anything. They went with the usual prescription…”

  Marissa grinned, unable to resist the twinkle of amusement in Jo’s eyes.

  “Weak tea and soggy biscuits? Okay, I’ll go have a chat with her then I’ll get gone. See you in the morning if you’re not around when I get out,” she said by way of farewell, folding the clipboard against her chest and heading towards room two to tell Mrs. Fyre her husband appeared to have forgotten everything.

  Including the fact he had a wife.

  * * *

  He was going to die, Rae just knew it. She’d been nasty to him and he was going to die. She mangled the thick fabric of Logan’s coat in nervous fingers. The paramedic had given it to her whilst they were waiting for Logan to be unloaded at the intake doors, along with his wallet.

  “Best not leave them in the car ma’am, too many light-fingered people about. Besides, you’ll probably be sitting around a bit, that’s a good thick coat, that is. You might be glad of it later.”

  The instant he’d thrown it around her shoulders, she’d been enveloped in a masculine scent. The scent of Logan’s aftershave, familiar from that kiss in her corridor. She bit her lip, nerves and guilt hitting her anew as she sat alone in the little waiting room. The tea and biscuits they’d brought sat on a plate on the low table next to her. Untouched. She couldn’t have stomached anything if she tried.

  A sense of foreboding crept over her. She’d sat in a room like this when her dad had had his accident. Even years later the place looked the same. Didn’t they say that about all hospitals? The same the world over, as though the dramas played out in them needed the familiar bland settings to operate in.

  The door opened and she started, looking up into the kindly eyes of a doctor. At least Rae assumed the woman was a doctor. She had the requisite white coat and manner. In a heartbeat Rae was on her feet, Logan’s coat still in her hands.

  “How is he? Is he okay?”

  The other woman smiled, an honest smile which did a lot to ease the ache in Rae’s chest. “He’s going to be fine, Mrs. Fyre, but I do need to talk to you. I’m Marissa Davies, the doctor dealing with your husband’s case, shall we sit down?”

  Rae nodded, sinking back onto the plastic covered chair as the doctor took one kitty-corner.

  “Okay, first off, I need you to confirm Mr. Fyre’s name, date of birth and home address please.” The doctor flashed her a quick smile. “Just procedure to make sure I have the right file.”

  “Logan James Fyre, born on the sixth of December…” Rae rattled his details off. Information she’d been asked for three times already. The sort of thing a wife would know without checking. It wasn’t the sort of thing a stranger like Rae should know. She’d only met him this afternoon. But Rae had been blessed with a photographic memory, a bit of a boon in college. A quick glance at his driver’s license earlier and she reeled the information off like they’d been together for years.

  “Thank you.” She smiled again, obviously happy with the reply, and folded her hands on top of the clipboard.

  “Okay, physically your husband has some nasty bruising and needed a couple of stitches to a cut in his hairline. It’s small so it shouldn’t scar too badly. Given the location, it should be barely noticeable. However…” she paused and sighed a little.

  Rae’s heart lurched. However? It wasn’t good when a doctor said however, was it?

  “I’m not quite sure how to tell you this but… Well, your husband has sustained some memory loss. He doesn’t remember you.”

  A wave of relief that her deception hadn’t been revealed crashed over Rae, followed by another wave of guilt as the doctor’s words sank in.

  “He doesn’t remember anything?”

  “Well, you have to understand that although his physical injuries weren’t too bad we still don’t understand all the functions of the human brain. He remembers his name at this point but is a little confused.” The doctor explained. “Now, it could just be the brain’s way of coping with the trauma of the accident. He struck the steering wheel with some force to sustain the concussion. A good night’s sleep may reset everything and he’ll be fine when he wakes up, or he could take a little longer to recover his memory. Fortunately in cases like this it’s unlikely to be permanent.”

  Rae breathed a sigh of relief. She couldn’t imagine losing her memory. It would be so confusing to wake up and not know who you were, where you were or how you got there.

  “So he just remembers his name at the moment? That’s a blessing at least, waking up and not knowing who you are must be terrifying.”

  The doctor nodded. “Indeed, I’m glad you understand that Mrs. Fyre, it’s so much easier when a patient’s relatives can approach this with the right attitude.” Her eyes flicked down over Rae’s white tunic. “You’re a thera
pist yourself?”

  “Massage and aromatherapy, yes,” Rae replied with a wan smile. “I keep getting mistaken for a nurse here, even though I’m wearing a different colour. When can I see Logan?”

  The doctor’s lips quirked a little. “Yeah, sorry about that. They tend to see the uniform and don’t look beyond it. I can take you through now but he’ll be asleep. We gave him a mild sedative so he’ll be out for a couple of hours, I’m afraid. You’re quite welcome to wait or come back in the morning…?”

  * * *

  Rae hadn’t wanted to come back in the morning so she’d asked to wait. For one, she’d come in the ambulance with Logan so she didn’t have her car here at the hospital. She had no idea how she was getting home. Deep in thought, she nibbled her lip. She could ring Reg from the garage and get him to drop her car off. She’d known him since she was a child and he always serviced her car, so she knew he had a spare key in his workshop. But it was late, edging into the early hours, and Reg would be long in his bed. It wouldn’t be fair to wake him.

  She sat in the chair next to Logan, watching him sleep. Far better to wait until the morning now. If she couldn’t get hold of Reg she would have to get the bus. There was one that went between Newbolton and Ashton about mid-morning. She’d have to be careful not to drop off though; otherwise God knows where she’d end up. Probably some bus terminal somewhere with a janitor shaking her awake and wondering at her mental state.

  She turned her attention back to Logan. He looked…peaceful, lying there on the bed. Stripped of the suit he wore like armour, and asleep, he still had a strong look about him. Something about the set of his mouth and chin, a determined set. She had a feeling he’d have been a formidable man regardless of what field he’d gone into. Just her bad luck he happened to be in property development. She leaned back in the chair and stifled a yawn.

  What was she still doing here? He was in the best place, and the doctor said he’d be fine; his injuries should heal and his memory should come back before long. She’d done more than anyone would expect from her. So why hadn’t she left already? When she’d shut her front door on him earlier she’d vowed if she never saw him again it would be too soon. Especially after forcing that kiss on her…

  She drew a ragged breath, her fingers running through her now loose hair. Okay, that was a little unfair. He hadn’t forced the kiss on her. He’d given her plenty of chances to pull away, or slide past him. However much she might dislike him because what he and his company wanted—her home—she couldn’t accuse him of being little better than a rapist.

  She’d enjoyed it, if she could enjoy something which rattled her to her very core. She’d never felt such instant heat, such chemistry, with any man before.

  Was that why she couldn’t leave now? Because of the kiss? She leaned her head against the high back of the chair, allowing her eyes to half close as they rested on the figure lying on the bed. No, not even a kiss would have kept her here considering how she felt about Jensen and Fyre. Not even that hotter than hell kiss.

  No, it was because he was alone. In all the time she’d been here, waiting for him whilst they checked him out and cleaned him up, no one had called for him or arrived to see him. Not in all the hours she waited as they took him down for x-rays. Nor as she sat here watching him sleep.

  He didn’t have any contact numbers in his wallet, just a couple of his business cards. Since she assumed the number on the front was for the sleek silver cell which had been in his pocket, they weren’t much help. Feeling like a snooper, she’d even been through his phone to check. Scrolling through the numbers and messages and looking for the name or number of someone she could contact. Either he was the most organised man she knew, or he didn’t have any friends or family.

  She gnawed her lip. She should let someone know, perhaps his office? The card had a landline number. No doubt his office; they’d know who to ring. She’d do that first thing in the morning. No point in trying now, business hours were nine to five. Even for hotshot property developers.

  Yawning again, Rae shook out his coat again and snuggled under the thick fabric, breathing in his scent. She’d always been a sucker for someone or something in need. She wouldn’t, couldn’t leave him to wake up on his own with no memory and only the nurses around him. The least she could do was pretend to be a family member and be concerned about him until someone got here to take over for her. If anyone did…

  Chapter Three

  Logan woke slowly, his head pounding like he’d been out on a three night bender. He’d never been on a three night bender but he’d been drunk enough before to appreciate how it would feel. Something similar to the way he felt at the moment—as though a herd of elephants were stampeding around in his skull. Not a pleasant sensation. He swallowed painfully, the tiny movement threatening to make his head drop off his neck as a fresh surge of pain thudded across his temple.

  Even the light creeping in at the corner of his eyelids hurt, the glare so bright that someone had to be shining a bright lamp in his face. Like a scene from old-fashioned spy movies, when the bad guys captured the hero and tried to make him talk. In fact, he wouldn’t have been surprised if a male voice drawled ‘Oh no Mr Bond, I intend for you to die’ or something equally dramatic.

  He lifted his hand carefully to his head. If he was honest, a toddler could easily take him down at the moment. He’d have to hope no marauding gangs of them appeared any time soon. Amusement filled him. It was rare he drank a lot, but a hangover of this magnitude meant he must have had a really good night.

  His hand stopped halfway to his head as a sharp pain shot through it. Even in his dazed confusion Logan registered the pain as wrong—a sharp scratch under his skin. Blearily he opened his eyes, squinting against the low lights to locate the source of the scratching.

  “Ugh.”

  There was a needle in the back of his hand, which meant he was in hospital. He dropped the hand back to the bed and winced as the slight impact jarred his head again. Eyes closed, his mind started to put the pieces together. Hospital, faded impressions of being in a car and the squeal of brakes and a huge bang. A bang he’d felt more than heard. Then pain and a view of a hedge. A soft female voice, caring and concerned.

  He’d been in a car accident. It must have been a good one for him to be in hospital rather than… He frowned again. He’d been doing something, something important, but he couldn’t put his finger on what. It was hardly important at the moment so he let the thought slide away, whatever it was. After he’d oriented himself, then he’d worry about it.

  He tried opening his eyes again. This time the lights didn’t assault him as badly. Even dimmed, they were still painfully bright. Lifting his head clear of the pillow, he searched with his free hand for a call button. If he was in a hospital then there were nurses nearby, ready and waiting for patients to need them.

  But instead of the square plastic he expected his hand touched soft hair. Surprised, he looked down, his fingers automatically curling around the silky red-brown strands they found. A woman lay half across his bed, fast asleep. Ignoring the warning throb in his head he studied her more. Slender and petite, she looked like an angel, peaceful in sleep.

  Logan made a noise deep in his throat, somewhere between surprise and contemplation. Okay, now he knew where he was, he just had two more questions.

  Who was the girl? And why the hell couldn’t he remember more than his name?

  * * *

  Exhausted by her night at Logan’s bedside, Rae took a while to wake. The first thing she became aware of was a soft touch on her hair. The gentle caress of a large hand stroking the hair away from her face.

  She opened her eyes, blinking as she focused, and found Logan smiling down at her. Instantly nerves burned the sleep out of her brain as she waited for him to say something, sure her deception was about to be uncovered.

  “This might be a stupid question.” His voice was little more than a soft rumble in the quiet of the private room. Confusion swam in
the clear blue of his eyes. “But I have no clue who you are.”

  Relief washed through Rae. He didn’t remember her! She hadn’t been found out yet. As soon as she thought it, guilt followed on its coattails. How could she be relieved another person had lost their memory? That was an awful thing to be relieved about, and probably revealed some deep flaw in her personality.

  “That’s not a question,” she replied on automatic, her tongue buying time as her brain frantically played catch-up. Dammit, she shouldn’t have fallen asleep. Or at the least she should have set her phone to wake her up earlier, so that she could get her story in place before Logan woke.

  She checked her watch, five to six in the morning. Five to six! What a god awful time. No sane person should be awake at this time. She thought longingly of her comfy bed with its thick duvet and soft pillows.

  “The doctors said you’d be asleep until morning.”

  “Well, from the looks of that, it is morning,” Logan nodded to the morning light just visible through the cheap hospital curtains. His lips quirked. “Okay, let’s try this one again. Who are you? Obviously someone I know unless you’re in the habit of breaking into hospitals and going to sleep across the beds of complete strangers. Of course, you could be… I don’t know…”

  “Well, they don’t come much stranger than you,” Rae threw back, the quip rising easily to her tongue as she tried to work out what the hell to say. She couldn’t just admit who she was, could she?

  Yeah, I’m Rae Borne. You thought I was a man, kissed me senseless in my hall. Oh, and you’re trying to kick me out of my house. I thought I’d just pose as your wife, see if I couldn’t get you to change your mind somehow…

  Salvation arrived in the form of the nurse who swept into the room with a bright smile. “Ahh Mr. Fyre, you’re awake. Good, Doctor Davies will be pleased. How are you feeling this morning?” Brisk and efficient, she moved around the small room with the force of a small tornado, tidying up in an absent manner.

  “Like I’ve been hitting my head against a brick wall.”