Logan

 

When I come to, the coppery scent of blood fills my nostrils. The room is dark. It takes me a few tries to keep my heavy eyelids open and to realize that there’s something over my head. There’s a throbbing in my head that drums at a steady rhythm as I try to sift through my scrambled thoughts. I search beyond the pain and darkness surrounding me, trying to figure out where exactly the fuck I am.

When I woke up this morning, Prairie was gone. Her note said she was getting breakfast and coming right back. I remember standing in the kitchen when the door was kicked in and…Santos. That greasy mother fucker and three of his thugs stormed in through the busted doorframe and I had no time to react before a lead pipe hit me in the ribs. I could have fought through that but the hit to my head knocked me out cold. Bile rises up my throat when I realize that I have no idea if these fuckers took Prairie too. I’ll fucking kill them if they touch her, I know that much.

I test the rope binding my wrists but it’s wound too tight. Identical to the rope securing my ankles to the chair I’m sitting on. The creak of a door halts my movements. Footsteps echo against the floor but I keep my mouth shut until the cloth bag is ripped from my head.

“Quit playin’ mother fucker, I know you’re awake,” Santos growls.

I look him in the eye, he’s high as a kite and twitching like crazy. When his fist connects with my jaw, I spit the blood onto the concrete floor and take the opportunity to glance at the room around me. A basement. No windows. And two fuckers with guns blocking the only exit. Great.

“No way out mother fucker,” he boasts.

“This is your fucking plan? Tie me to a chair and beat the shit out of me? You’re a fucking little bitch Santos,” I spit.

He hits me again, my vision blurs but I shake it off. I need to buy some time until I can figure out how the fuck to get out of here.

“You think I’m gonna stop there, white boy?” he seethes. “That guy you beat up the other night, that was my cousin Hector. First, I’m gonna repay that debt. Then, I’m gonna fucking kill you, amigo.”

There’s a wild look in his eyes as he threatens me and I actually fucking believe him. He’s close enough that I slam my head against his, the crunch of cartilage loud enough for me to hear above the blood pumping through my veins.

“Mother fucker! Fuck this asshole up!” he demands, wiping the gush of blood from his nose.

I struggle against the rope as a lead pipe connects with my shin, pain splintering up my leg. The next hit is to my ribs, followed by my left kneecap. I keep struggling, keep fighting. I have to get back to her. It’s the only thought in my mind. I’m numb to the pain as adrenaline courses through my veins and the hits keep coming. My vision is blurring as I struggle to keep my eyes open.

I have to get back to her.

“Prai..rie.”

“Hold up, hold up, what was that? You calling out for your bitch you piece of shit? Oh, don’t you worry about her. We were watching when she strolled her fine ass out of your apartment this morning. We’ll go back for her later and have some real fun.”

I tug as hard as I can, wrath and blind fury consuming me until I feel one of the ropes around my wrists snap. My hand is around Santos’ neck, heaving him forward in a matter of seconds. I squeeze as hard as I can, watching his beady little eyes bulge under the strain of pressure. He’s gasping and flailing his arms around when he’s suddenly torn from my grip and my head snaps back from another blow. I thrash until the chair tips over and kick my legs as hard as I can. I can’t hear anything. I can’t see anything. The glint of metal catches my gaze as I continue to struggle against the rope around my ankles. Everything that happens next is in slow motion. The joyful smirk that curls his lips, the two bastards that grab a hold of my arms and pin me still. Santos raises his weapon and aims for my chest. Everything in the world stops when I realize that this is it. I close my eyes. When the sound of a single gunshot rings out and echoes against the walls in this fucking cage, my only regret is that I didn’t get to see her face one last time.

 

*

 

My limbs feel heavy, my throat and mouth dry. There’s a throbbing pain coursing through my body, but I can’t figure out where it’s coming from. The mere thought of opening my eyes right now exhausts me. A constant beeping is the only thing I hear and when I move my hand slightly, my fingers brush against soft strands of hair. I muster my strength and open my eyes, squinting against the harsh light of the hospital room surrounding me. I look down at Prairie, her head resting on the bed, her arm draped over my legs protectively. I clear my throat, knowing that my words will be hoarse and that’s when she begins to stir. She looks up at me sleepily.

“Logan? Thank God,” she sighs, springing from her chair and leaning over my chest, gripping me tightly. My groan has her pulling away, a look of sorrow on her beautiful face. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t even thinking,” she cringes. “Let me get you some water.”

She fills the blue plastic cup sitting on the nearby tray from the matching pitcher and holds it for me while I take a generous sip. The effort it takes to sit up plays me out and I fall back against the pillow behind me.

“Thank you,” I rasp, reaching for her hand. I pull her onto the bed so she’s sitting beside me. She raises her hand and strokes her fingertips gently down the side of my face, past what I’m sure is a fucking angry looking bruise. Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears.

“I was so scared,” she says quietly. “When I got back to your apartment and saw the blood I didn’t know what to do. I thought I was going to lose you again.”

“Nothing could keep me from you. Not anymore.”

I tug her gently towards me and she rests her forehead against mine. There’s more to say but before I can get the words out there’s a knock and Trevor stands in the open doorway. Prairie tries to pull away from me but I keep her body anchored to mine and she relents, lying down beside me.

“You look like shit,” Trevor says.

“I feel like shit.”

“I’m sorry man, we should have been there sooner,” he breathes out.

“Well I’m not dead, so consider me grateful.”

“Save it for her,” he nods down at Prairie. “She came straight to the club and gave Zavier shit until he agreed to exhaust his very connected efforts.”

“You went to the club?” I ask her.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” she says. “I figured I had nothing to lose by at least trying to get help.”

“You did the right thing,” Trevor states. “Took Zavier two phone calls before we had a lock on you.”

I vaguely remember breaking my hands free and squeezing that fucker Santos’ windpipe before I was pinned to the ground. A gun shot was the last thing I heard before everything went black.

“Bobby took out Santos with a shot to his leg before he could pull the trigger on you,” Trevor explains. “His uncle Caesar was pretty pissed to find out that he was wasting his time on petty bullshit like paying you back, no offence,” he offers. “He said he’d take care of him.”

“And the other two?”

A subtle shake of his head tells me what I need to know. Zavier would have taken care of the mess, not wanting to ruffle business feathers with Santos’ uncles.

“I should let you guys get some rest,” he says. “We’ll talk later man.”

“Brooke was moved to the second floor,” Prairie offers innocently. “Just in case you were wondering.”

Trevor gives a non-committal nod before he turns and leaves the room. I look at Prairie but she just shakes her head and grins. We stay like this for a while, our arms wrapped around each other. I hold Prairie close even when the nurse comes in to check my vitals and go over my various injuries. Some broken ribs, a couple fractures and a shattered knee cap. She tells me I can go home in a couple days. Once she leaves, the quiet settles between Prairie and me once again until she eventually clears her throat and sits up, angling herself to face me.

“I’m sorry babe,” I say, knowing full well that the words aren’t enough. Not for this bullshit.

“I don’t know what your deal is with Zavier,” she admits. “But I do know, that I can’t live wondering if something like this is going to happen again. I was so scared Logan, so scared of losing you. I love you.”

“I love you Prairie, I’ll figure this out, I promise.”

“There’s no need for that,” a familiar voice says from the doorway. “Please excuse the interruption, my timing is not ideal I can see.”

Zavier brushes a piece of lint from his black suit and walks into the modest hospital room as if he’s the chief of surgery himself. He might be a smug bastard but I wouldn’t be here with Prairie if it weren’t for him. Relief washes over me at the same time as dread. Another favour owed to the collector.

“Thanks, for what you did,” I tell him.

“It was nothing,” he shrugs. “But I’m afraid that I’m gonna have to fire you.”

Prairie squeezes my hand and looks between me and Zavier, obviously thinking the same thing that I am.

“Fired?”

“That’s right.”

“What’s the catch?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake Logan, must you always be so doom and gloom?”

I give him a level stare and wait for the answer to my question while Prairie shoots me a nervous glance.

“Fine. You have to kill three people and present me with their heads. Is that better? Frankly I’m insulted Logan, I thought we were friends. I’m a business man, not a bloody savage.”

“So, that’s it, he’s just fired?” Prairie asks.

“Correct, sugar. Now if you’ll both excuse me, I’ve already missed what I was told was going to be the Avant-garde of Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake. However, I don’t see why the entire evening must be wasted.”

He heads for the door when I call out, “Zavier?”

“You just can’t accept a favour, can you?” He asks. “The thing is my friend, you no longer have nothing to lose. Which means you have a reason to fuck up. I suppose you could also call me sentimental, as I recall a time when I too had everything. A girl can do that to you,” he adds. He closes the door behind him and Prairie sinks back into me with a sigh.

“What now?” she asks eventually.

“You and me,” I respond.

“Always,” she says.

I will never let anything come between us again. Nothing that I wouldn’t fight tooth and nail to get to the other side of…back to her.