But those words are merely greeted with a shrug, and they go right back to talking.
“You kept your key to this apartment when Seraphina was locked here,” protests Logan.
I’m back to frowning in utter confusion, wondering why the hell the dark-haired girl whose path I crossed, and who professed to being in love with Damien, would ever have been locked inside this place.
“That’s different. I’m the one who locked her in here.”
“Yeah, because Vale was putting pressure on you. Otherwise you’d have brought her straight up to your place. Which you did the second he died.”
What. the. Fuck?
I’m trying to follow along, but I’ve never been more confused before.
“Logan, this isn’t up for debate. Your key.”
“No fucking way. You can trust me. I won’t let her escape.”
Crap.
“Trust you, like the way I trusted you to kill her when I ordered you to?”
“You can trust me,” insists Logan, “because now that I know you’renotgoing to kill her, Devil Tower is the safest place forher.”
“I never said I’m not going to kill her.”
Fuck.Me.
“You’re going to have to make your mind up quickly,” my mouth snaps before my brain can put a stop to it. “Because if I hear one more fucking second of this stupid back-and-forth—”
This time, they actually stop talking and stare at me.
Damien is the first to react, by… laughing. And Logan joins in.
“I’m glad mocking me is allowing you to work through your shit,” I add bitterly.
“She reminds me of Lia,” chuckles Damien, still maddeningly talking to Loganaboutme as if I’m not even in the room.
“Who the fuck is Lia?” I growl. “I don’t fucking know her! My mom’s name is Laura!”
“You need to work on that foul mouth of yours,” scowls Damien, and I swear I want to kick him.
Between him, Logan and Quill, when did I suddenly go from being hunted by murderous assholes who want to kill me… to threedads?
Dads who I’m not entirely suredon’tstill plan to murder me.
“Yeah, well, you need to work onnotkilling me, and giving me some fucking answers.”
Damien abruptly claps a hand over my mouth and pulls me over to the living room that the entrance hall opens out onto, then sits me down firmly on a chair.
“Don’t push your luck. I’m not known for my fucking patience.”
“Me neither.”
I cross my arms, trying to look as angry as he does, but very well aware that he can see right through me.
“Only one of us has a gun, though.” He’s inexplicably gone back to smiling, and I have the annoying feeling that he thinks my anger iscute, even though he’s still clearly pissed at me.
“Damien,” begins Logan.
