A week. A fucking week.
“Dad? Dad? Are you alright? Dad! Say something!”
“Stop fucking screaming, Anna. I’m not deaf…”
“Oh, my God! You’re bleeding!”
“Doesn’t matter… It’ll heal. We have more important things to worry about now…”
A full week with Marie and Anna. Just the three of us, nice and cozy in the truck during days, Marie and Anna sharing a room during nights and I’m sleeping in the truck, because I’m just Logan. The big and hairy Logan who saved their asses when the army came.
“More important? She tore you open with her bare hands and we have something more important to worry about?”
“Yeah… We need to find something to calm her down. You wouldn’t happen to know anybody…”
“I knew somebody. Unfortunately you took him out of business.”
“Who? Jack? The asshole’s not dead… Just… Just severely handicapped…”
Woke up half an hour ago. Marie was in the cab with me. I thought that she wanted to talk. Yeah. Right. She’s still pissed at what I did to Jack. And how I used those women. Fuck. If Anna hadn’t woken up for bathroom, I wouldn’t be here, leaning against this fucking door. Marie wouldn’t be on the other side of this door, screaming and kicking, trying to claw her way through it to get me.
“I thought you killed him.”
“Nope… Just took away his tools. Made sure that he can’t hurt anybody anymore… You think you could find him for me?”
“I don’t know. Shit. We have to stop that bleeding. Why aren’t you healing?”
“Your mom… She used her skin. Drained me… I’ll be alright in a few hours… You sure you couldn’t track down that bastard?”
“We’re in fucking Canada, dad! Use your brain!”
“Yeah. Not one of my brightest ideas, pumpkin… Fuck. Hand me that towel, would you? What ever this shit is, I have a feeling that it better stay inside of me…”
“What about Nadine?”
“I don’t know. That’s a possibility… Take the truck. Tell her that I sent you…”
“It’ll take a couple of days. Are you going to be okay?”
“Yeah. Just leave the first aid kit and I’m good to go… Fucking go already!”
Okay… Let’s see. Where to start? That gash on my side will fucking tear wide open as soon as I let go of this towel. Stomach’s not in any better shape. Jesus. She really did a number on me. If I weren’t bleeding my guts out I would fucking kiss her. Then strangle her. She’s too good at this shit.
“You think you could stop screaming and kicking this door for a sec, darling? I’m trying to stitch up my stomach here!”
“Fuck you, asshole! Curl up and die!”
“Not yet, honey! You have to try harder!”
“I wish I had never even met you!”
“No, you don’t! And stop that fucking kicking! It’s kind of hard to make even row when you keep jostling me!”
“Like it matters! When I get out of here I’m going to gut you anyway!”
“You think so? You sure you wouldn’t want to play dominatrix for a change? Give me a good spanking for being a bad boy?”
“Fuck you!”
“That’s it! Kick that door once more and I’ll fucking come and stitch your legs together!”
“Uuu… I’m so scared!”
Fuck this.
“In about two hours I’m going to be as good as new. If you don’t start behaving at this second, I’m going to knock you out and fuck you to the next week. Is that understood?”
“You can’t do that, you sick fuck!”
“Want to bet on it?”
Blessed silence. Maybe I can get this mess sorted out after all. Now where the fuck did that needle go?
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