Logan's gaze flicks to Naomi, who meets his eyes withoutflinching. There's no fear there—only that same quiet certainty he saw in her at the interrogation. The certainty that Walker would come for her. That she would be saved.
And now it's happening.
"You can't let her go." His voice drops to a dangerous whisper.
Graves rises and buttons her suit jacket with deliberate slowness. "That’s what you continually fail to understand, Logan. I can do whatever I like. You failed, and now I'm cutting losses."
"That’s what you continually fail to understand," Logan says darkly.
"What is that?" The corner of her mouth lifts in disdain.
"I’m the one who can do whatever he likes.”
Logan moves with inhuman speed. Before Graves can react, his hands are around her throat, squeezing. Her eyes widen in shock as she claws uselessly at his fingers.
"Logan, stop!" Naomi shouts, struggling against her cuffs.
But Logan only tightens his grip. Graves' face begins to redden, her eyes bulging as she fights for air. This is what happens when the dog pulls back on the leash.
"You think Walker is too strong to fight," Logan whispers.
Graves is choking, the fear in her eyes growing as Logan's grip tightens. Her fingernails rake against his forearms, drawing blood that trickles down his skin. The sensation is distant but pleasant. A reminder that he feels most alive when he's stealing it from someone else.
"But we are the same, Walker and me. You were only useful to me when you allowed me to do what I do best. But you’ve made it clear that’s not true anymore."
Graves eyes bulge, bloodshot and desperate. Her lips move, trying to form words that can't escape her crushed windpipe. Logan savors her terror like wine.
"You’re right. You can't stop Walker," he continues,leaning closer to her purpling face. "And you can't stop me. You believe the weapons that you forge will always remain under your control. Let me teach you that's not the case."
Logan tightens his grip further, a manic smile carving into his face. The thrill of control surges through him. Graves claws at his arms and chest, but he might as well be made of stone. Her struggles grow weaker, more desperate.
Behind him, he hears Naomi struggling to her feet. The scrape of her shoes on the floor, the jingle of her handcuffs. He doesn't even need to look. In one fluid motion, he pivots and backhands her across the face, sending her crashing to the ground. Blood blooms from her split lip.
Perfect. He'll leave her alive but marked. A message for Walker.
The last bit of life is choked out of Isla Graves, and Logan throws her lifeless body to the ground like discarded trash. He flexes his fingers, feeling the pleasant ache in his knuckles. Killing with his bare hands has always been his favorite. And Graves slights and insults against him building over time like grains of sand collecting in an hourglass, makes her lifeless eyes even sweeter. Logan is pleased.
But it’s only a prologue. An appetizer.
He turns to Naomi, who's managed to sit up against the wall, blood trickling down her chin. Despite everything, her eyes still burn with that same fire. It irritates him more than he would ever let her see.
"You and Walker are not the same," she breathes.
Logan crouches down near her, tilting his head as he studies her face. The defiance is still strong.
"No. We're not," he agrees, reaching out to wipe her chin so the blood smears over her face. She flinches away from his touch. "He cares. And I don't. Caring makes him weak."
"You're wrong," Naomi says, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. "It makes him strongerthan you."
Logan smiles. It's not warm. But it does contain a sick joy that spreads through his chest like poison.
"We'll see," he whispers, bringing his face closer to hers. "Or at least I will. Because I'm going to end your life first in front of him, before I kill him."
Thirty-One
The desert heat shimmers across the asphalt as I drive one of the trucks that didn’t get torched in my attack on El Centinela. I grip the steering wheel hard in a futile attempt to make the truck go faster.
My external wounds have mostly healed. But the one in my heart just keeps getting ripped wide open.
