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His warmth isn’t the same as Logan’s. His scent is different. I appreciate him holding me, but he’s not Logan. I need Daddy.

“How did you know where to find us?” I ask, my voice tiny in my own ears.

“Logan told me where he was goin’. He’s verra careful, yer daddy.”

I nod. He is. Careful and wonderful and I need him so much.

I try to stay calm and breathe slowly, the way the captain told me, while I watch the medical team work on Logan. They buckle a stiff cervical collar around his neck before they roll him onto a backboard and strap him down. His eyelids never flicker while they move him. Under his tan, he’s so pale he looks grey.

“Why isn’t he waking up?” I whisper to Niall.

“The doctor will tell us in a tick, doan worry.”

But the doctor doesn’t say anything. He keeps working, lifting Logan’s eyelids and shining a little pen-light into Logan’s eyes. He takes off Logan’s shoes and runs his thumbs up the soles of Logan’s feet. I don’t understand what Daddy’s feet have to do with anything. All the blood’s on his head.

What the nurse is doing makes more sense. She sponges the blood off Logan’s face. Once she has him cleaned up, she presses gauze pads against the right side of his forehead, then begins wrapping his head with more gauze. It looks like she’s mummifying him, which would make me laugh, if he was awake.

Daddy, please, please, wake up.

Finally, the doctor rises, brushes off his pants, and walks over to me. “Are you Emily Martin?”

I nod and Niall releases me enough to shake the doctor’s hand before winding me tight against his chest again.

“Mr. Logan has been hit in the head multiple times with a heavy object. He has a depressed skull fracture and a concussion. I’m concerned there may be bleeding in his brain. I can’t treat this here and recommend he be moved to a hospital immediately. Do you know if he has medical insurance?”

I don’t. He never mentioned it. I shake my head.

“He doesn’t have insurance or you don’t know?” The doctor asks.

“I don’t know.” It comes out as a squeak.

“I’m sure he’d have insurance,” Niall says.

“If he has insurance, I’d recommend he be airlifted to Scripps La Jolla in San Diego. They have an excellent neurology department. If he doesn’t have insurance, then he’ll need to be treated in Mazatlán. Mexican hospitals require payment up front.”

“I’ll pay,” I say.

“Ms. Martin,” the doctor begins.

I shake my head firmly, finding strength in the thought that, at last, this is something I can do.

“I want him airlifted to San Diego. I want him to have the best treatment. I’ll pay.”

“Are you sure? This is tens of thousands of dollars we’re talking about if he’s uninsured.”

I have no idea if Logan’s insured or not. He’s self-employed, the same as I am. My insurance sucks. It doesn’t matter. I’ll sell my house, everything I own, if I have to. The only thing that matters is Daddy getting the best treatment.

“I’ll pay. Please, what do I need to do?”

The doctor waves a hand. “We’ll contact the air ambulance, but I urge you to find out if he’s insured first. The insurance company may not reimburse the flight if they don’t pre-authorize it.”

I look up at Niall. “He kept his important papers in his room safe. He told me the combination, but I don’t have a key to his room.”

Niall nods. “I’ll take care of it. What’s the code?”

I tell him and expect him to leave. Instead, he whips out his phone and types into it rapidly before he slides his arms back around me.

“Shaan’ll get into his room,” Niall tells me. “I’m stayin’ with yeh. Yer not alone. We’ll deal with this together.”

Niall stays with me, all through the second longest day of my life. The longest was the day I left Ash, after discovering that he’d given me chlamydia, with nowhere to go and no future. That was a day I thought would never end.

But it did, finally, when I fell asleep on Gracie’s couch. This one does, too, at four in the morning when the neurosurgeon at Scripps La Jolla tells us that Logan’s surgery has been successful. They’re keeping him in the ICU for the rest of the night while they work on reducing the swelling of his brain. But in the morning, he’ll be moved into critical care, where I can see him. I cry in Niall’s arms after the doctor leaves, just like I cried in Gracie’s the day I left Ash. It’s cold comfort. Niall’s not the man I want holding me any more than Gracie was. But I’m grateful for it.

As dawn starts to illuminate the huge foyer, I find myself with Niall at the reception desk of a Marriott that Niall, or Shaan, or Vashi, or someone, has booked while I’ve cried and paced. I’m startled when Niall collects only one key from the front desk and takes me up to the room. When I see that it only has one king bed, I begin to shake.

Niall takes my shoulders in his hands.

“Emily, I wouldna leave anyone alone after the day yeh’ve had, much less a baby gurl. I’m staying. If yeh wan me to sleep on the floor, I will, but I’m not leaving yeh alone.”

I feel myself start to fracture. “I need Daddy’s permission. It-it’s in our contract.”

He wraps his arms around me while I try not to scream. I can’t get Daddy’s permission. I may never be able to get Daddy’s permission again.

Niall hugs me, murmuring soothingly. “I promise yeh the first thing we’ll do when Logan wakes is get his permission. He’ll understand, Emmy. I promise, it’ll be ah’right.”

I cling to his words as I cling to his big, solid form. “Thank you so much for everything, Master Niall.”

“Good gurl.” He strokes my hair. “Go wash up and get ready for bed. We’ll sleep in our clothes tonight. Shaan and Vashi’ll be

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