Page 54 of Logan
The sight punches the air out of my lungs. No sign of her. No movement in the windows. The place is too quiet, the kind of quiet that feels like it’s holding its breath.
My pulse hammers in my ears as I kill the engine. My hands are already on my gun, the metal cool and solid in my grip.
The roar of my brothers’ bikes echoes down the street behind me, growing louder, closer, a wall of sound that almost steadies me.
Every step I take toward that building feels like thunder.
I round the car, crouch low beside the crumbling brick wall, listening.
Something in me goes ice-cold, then flashes to red.
I move.
I’m coming, baby.
Hold on.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Mac
See, I never thought that I could walk through fire
I never thought that I could take the burn
I never had the strength to take it higher
Until I reached the point of no return
‘Never Say Never’ - Justin Bieber
His hand is like iron in my hair, the grip unyielding, each yank burning against my scalp as he drags me down the narrow hallway. My heels scrape helplessly against the stained carpet, the friction useless, the sound muffled beneath the rush of my own pulse in my ears. I twist, digging in with everything I have left, muscles straining, but he is too strong.
Too calm.
Like he has done this before.
Because he has.
“Let go of me, Anthony!” I scream, my voice raw with rage and terror. My nails dig deep into the flesh of his forearm,raking downward in a desperate attempt to leave some mark, some proof, but he does not even flinch.
“I told you I’d always be one step ahead,” he says, his tone maddeningly smooth, far too sane for a man who just orchestrated a fake interview to lure me here. His words roll off his tongue like this is nothing more than a business meeting, like my fear is part of his entertainment.
I should have seen it the second I walked into this building.
The way the door clicked shut behind me without a sound.
The way the air felt heavier, the shadows deeper.
But I needed this.
I needed to know he did not break me.
I needed to prove I could still stand on my own.
Now I am about to fall.
He shoves me into one of the empty hotel rooms, the impact jolting through my entire body. The door slams behind us, the sound sharp and final. The curtains are already drawn, shutting out the daylight. The room feels like a cage. There is nothing in here but a sagging bed, a nightstand, and the stale stink of mildew mixed with something darker.
