Page 57 of Logan
Not anymore.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Logan
'Til the roof comes off, 'til the lights go out
'Til my legs give out, can't shut my mouth
I'ma rip this shit 'til my bones collapse
'Til the roof comes off, 'til the lights go out
'Til my legs give out, can't shut my mouth
'Til the smoke clears out, am I high? Perhaps
I'ma rip this shit 'til my bones collapse
’Till I Collapse’ - Eminem
Walking into the hotel, I have no idea where to start. The air feels stale the moment we step inside, thick with the smell of dust, old carpet glue, and something sour that clings to the back of my throat. The lighting overhead is dim, flickering in places, the kind of glow that makes every shadow seem darker. My boots scrape across the warped linoleum as I look at Dom.
“Any indication where in this shit hole she could be?” My voice comes out low and dangerous, like it is already sharpened into a blade.
He shakes his head, scanning the ground, and then his eyes narrow at something near the base of the reception desk. He walks over, crouches, and picks up a phone from the floor. The second I see it, my gut twists hard enough to hurt.
“Definitely hers.” He flips it over, and there it is. The purple flower phone case I’ve seen her hold a thousand times.
“Fuck.” The word rips out of me as I start walking fast toward the stairs. Every muscle in my body is coiled tight, ready to snap. My brain is already running ahead, picturing what he would do, where he would take her. That is what he tried last time, and I am willing to bet he would fall back on the same plan again.
Cain’s hand clamps around my arm, halting me mid-step. The contact is so sudden, so at odds with the tension boiling in my veins, that I almost swing on him out of pure instinct. My shoulders are locked, my jaw aching from the pressure in my teeth.
“Calm down, brother. What’s the plan here?” His voice is steady, measured, but I can see the same urgency in his eyes.
I look at him, and then at the three brothers standing behind him. Their faces are hard, ready for blood. “We go room by fucking room. Kick down every fucking door until we find her.” The words come out like a vow, like I am daring anyone to try to slow me down. Cain looks at me like I might have lost my mind, but with the adrenaline moving through me, I feel like I could tear this place apart brick by fucking brick with my bare hands if it meant getting her back.
Dom steps forward, speaking in that clipped, calculating tone that means he is already breaking the problem apart in his head. “She would have been fighting. If I had toguess, he wouldn’t have taken her upstairs. Says there are a few guest rooms that way. It would be the easiest and quickest play.”
And then we hear it.
A sound that slices through the dead, heavy silence of the hall.
A muffled scream.
Then another.
Every nerve in my body locks onto that sound.
I am moving before I think, boots pounding against the hallway floor. The echo of my own steps is deafening in my ears, matched only by the rush of my heartbeat. I stop in front of the first door where the sound is loudest.
Her voice.
Faint.
Choked.
It cuts through me like a blade.
