Chapter 24
Logan
Watching Isaac slicing a green apple with a big-ass hunting knife is cathartic. He’s meticulous. Each slice is the same width and perfectly executed. He could gut you without getting a single drop of blood on him.
Since the one word he spoke when he told me to sit, he has been silent.
“How do you know Rue?” I ask to break it and see if I can engage him in a conversation that will distract me from worrying about Serena. I don’t know anything, and panicking when I need to keep my head straight is of no use to her or me.
“Who?”
“The firecracker who took Quentin away.”
“Ah. Rue. Suits her. Don’t know her.”
“Could’ve fooled me. She’s seen you before.”
He shrugs.
I guess that’s all I’m getting out of him for now.
My heart leaps into my throat as the door bursts open, and Quentin storms in with a face of thunder.
Slamming it so forcefully behind him that the wall shakes, he strides over to me, and before I can move, he grabs my shirt.
The crack of the first punch shakes my skull.
His knuckles catch me in the jaw, and there is a burst of fireworks behind my eyes as everything goes hazy white.
His fist pounds down, blow after blow into my ribs and face.
My own blood splatters onto my clothes and skin.
The pain radiates out from my broken nose, blossoming over my entire body.
But the pain of him breaking my nose with one punch is erased by the shock of him getting his hands dirty.
“What the fuck,” I snarl, but he’s not listening.
He hauls me to my feet and slams his fist into my face again. On the next punch, my left eye swells shut, and my lip bursts open, forcing me to taste the coppery tang of my own blood.
“Quen,” I slur.
“You fucking did this. You fucking played with her, and you fucking hurt her. I will fucking kill you if you go anywhere near her again,” he hisses in my face.
Smashing me again, once in the face and then in the stomach, I double over, and he lets me go.
He shoves me to the floor and kicks me. Curling up into a fetal position, wrapping my arms around myself, the beating continues for what seems like hours.
Feeling each wound separately, my ribs cracking and splintering underneath his hard boot.
The taste of blood fills my mouth and burns down my throat.
Quen eventually steps away from me, his work done.
His breathing is ragged when he crouches down next to me, limp and beaten on the floor.
“I found the camera in her bedroom. If you go near her again, if you even think about her, I will know, and I will string you up by your balls, cover you in honey and let the insects eat your flesh while the crows peck your eyeballs out. Are we on the same page?”
“Fuck. You.” I spit out a mouthful of blood that splashes his face before sliding down to join the spatters of my blood on his once immaculate suit.
Standing up, through the haze of my swollen eyes, I see him straighten his cuffs and step away. I know this isn’t over.
As Isaac looms over me, I hear the front door slam shut and brace myself, for if I live to tell the tale, it will be a miracle.
Enduring this to make it back to Serena, to take her away and be free from these restrictions, is worth every second.
She is worth every second.