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He doesn’t deserve her fear.
“You see, Logan,” I run the tip of the bat down his sternum as he continues to cry. “We memorized every mark on Harper’s body when we found her. And for every cut and bruise you left on her skin, you’re about to get back ten fucking fold.”
His head thrashes back and forth, and his blonde hair, which is longer now, sprays sweat across the room.
Fucking gross.
“If I had the patience to hold you down here for two weeks and starve you too, I would.”
Finn walks towards me with something he grabbed off the table. When the light catches the object, I realize he picked up the scalpel. “Before this gets too carried away, why is Declan here?”
“Why would I tell you? You’re just going to kill me anyway?”
I press the tip of my bat against his infected wound, and he screams out in pain. “You’re right. We are going to kill you. But I can drag this out until you are literally begging for death. I don’t think you quite understand who you’re dealing with here.”
He looks into my eyes, and I know he sees it, the uninhibited violence—the red. “When I checked in a few days ago, I told him how bad I was. He flew off the handle and told me it was time he dealt with this himself. He brought a whole team with him. He told me he would deal with it and then bring Harper and I both back with him.”
“Where’s your phone?”
“I have it,” Enzo answers from his spot against the wall. He pulls it out of his pocket and hands it to Ronan.
I look back at Logan. “Looks like you’re going to miss your flight out of here.”
Finn bends down and grabs one of Logan’s feet. “Why did you do it?” Finn asks, his voice calm and controlled.
“Declan, he–he made me. I didn’t have a choice.”
Finn slices down the arch of Logan’s foot. “She got that one running away.” He stands up and walks around Logan to grab a fistful of his hair.
“Why did you do it?” Finn repeats.
“I just told you! Declan wanted me to bring her back to Ireland. I was going to marry her so Patrick couldn’t take over, and I would. I was supposed to knock her up a few times and let the Whelan line live on. It’s all about the power. He didn’t want to give it up, and she’s the only way he can keep it.”
Finn pauses a moment, and Logan’s face relaxes like he thinks he’s about to get some sort of reprieve. Then, Finn drags the knife down the back of Logan’s head. “She got that one trying to fight you off.”
Reaching my hand out, Finn places the scalpel in my palm. I grab Logan’s face with one hand and bring the blade to his cheekbone. “Why did you do it?” I repeat Finn’s question.
Between broken sobs, Logan answers, “He–he caught me with a–a man. He said that after everything, he wouldn’t stand for me being a faggot. He needed a way to get to Harper, and I gave him one.”
The knife slides across the apple of his cheek, and blood spills down his face, “She got that one when you hit her.”
I open my mouth to ask him again when Harper’s soft voice beats me to it, “Why? Why didn’t you just run? You didn’t have to do it.”
She sounds so, so fucking sad.
“Declan threatened to kill him. I–I couldn’t risk it. I love him.”
I don’t bother asking what the other guy’s name is because it doesn’t fucking matter. He’s better off without this cowardly piece of shit anyway. Instead, I let Harper continue, not wanting to stop her now that she’s found the strength.
I move to the side, and she steps out of Ronan’s arms and closer to Logan. “Yet you would have married me? Forced me to have your babies?”
“At least he would have been alive. And after you had the kids, you’d—” He cuts himself off, and I know what he was about to say deep in my bones. But Harper needs to hear it for herself.
Tilting her head to the side, she asks, “I’d what?”
Logan looks over at me, and I twirl the scalpel between my fingers, silently letting him know his options.
“After you had a couple of kids, we’d have just gotten rid of you anyway.”
