Part 7- ‘Evil Comes Disguised…’
He had gotten half way down that road when he’s slammed the brakes hard, it must have been a good half hour that he sat there, starin’ at the nothin’ outside the windscreen. Pitch black night, the beam from his headlights only stretching out so far.
Outside on that deserted road there was nothin’ and all of a sudden it seemed that jus’ wasn’t good enough, once upon a time he’d have revelled in the fact there was a vast empty space out there.
The Wolverine in him would have howled, his animal nature given free reign, out there where there were no consequences, no fucked-up ideas of responsibility, nothin’ to hold him back, but not anymore.
Now there was somethin’, someone with a hold on him, someone with a claim on him and she was back there, a fucked up girl with a fucked-up attitude to life, little Marie, grown up beyond her years. Lost in her little wilderness, alone and bitter.
And yeah he’d given her reason to be, reason to hate him, to say everythin’ she’d spat at him and more. But he’d been too much of a coward to tell her why, why he’d pushed her away. Why instead of doin’ what he’d really wanted to that night in his room, how instead of taking her in his arm, kissing her back, taking her to his bed, he’d pushed her out of his room, out of his life and ended up pushing himself out of her heart.
Truth was he’d been scared, piss scared ‘cause it seemed she knew everything, she held everythin’ ‘bout him up in her head and that idea scared the hell out of him. She knew where he hid his beer, in the back of the fridge behind the salads, she knew how he liked his eggs in the morning, his favourite type of cigar, and she knew everything, all the mundane, all the unimportant things and more.
More, so much more, memories that haunted him, a life he’d deliberately kept hidden for so long, parts of his past that he was ashamed of, the pleasure he took in the hunt and kill, the endless nights of drinking, and the whores he used for his pleasure afterwards. The nameless and faceless blonds, seedy motels, the back of his truck, up against walls, fucked up little moments of pleasure in a fucked up life.
She knew all that and more, and instead of walkin’ away she’d been drawn to him, she’d been willin’ to give it all to him, she knew his shame, but still she’d wanted him. And that terrified the shit out of him; she was too young, too young to understand that his life, his darkness was something she shouldn’t know, not yet, not like this.
Too young and at the same time too old, too tired, the both of them were too scarred for it to ever work between them, she had too much already filling that head of hers to take on his pathetic excuse for a life as well.
It had been self-sacrificial, the Wolverine living out what he had always put into practise, self-preservation, he had to look after himself, and in doing so he’d been doin’ her a favour, don’t think ‘bout me like that kid, ah’ll only end up hurtin’ ya, ripping it apart for ya.
Believe me, you don’t need that.
So what had changed? Was it him, had the fact that he’d come so close to losing her finally pushed him into waking up to what he really felt about her? He couldn’t say, all he knew was he couldn’t walk away, not now, and even if it had changed for her, if she didn’t want him anymore he had to tell her.
Had to explain to her his reasons, to let her know that he could see her scars, that he could see the open wounds, the pain that she tried to drown in the drink, in the mindless fucks she took outside the bar, he could see them all because he had been through the same.
He’d been scared because she reflected so much of what he was, and that’s why he’d pushed her away, but had he the chance again, could the situation come round again; he would never let her go. That moment she threw her arms about his neck, he would never have let go.
‘You might hate me now Marie…and however unfair this is, however late, ya should know, I love you…whatever that means. I’m a coward for lettin’ it get this far, but darlin’ I love you…’
The tyres skidded as he threw the truck into a 180 turn, gritting his teeth as the car spun to face the opposite direction, his face set into grim determination he drove back to the motel.
He knew as soon as he pulled into the motel lot that something was wrong, the air was too still, the place too quiet. His eyes squinted, adjusting to the darkness, he realised it was so dark because every light was out.
Even the sign, the red neon flashing sign that hung from the side of the building was dark and empty. It was as if the whole place was holding its breath, waiting…waiting for something.
He headed towards Marie’s room, his every step cautious and quiet, stealth a second nature to him.
Her door was open, ever so slightly, no lights from the room but he could make out the sounds of shuffling feet. Quiet, small calculated steps moving around, if he had to guess, he’d say there were at least three others in her small room. And he knew that was three too many.
He stopped at the door, sniffing the air, he made out testosterone, hyper charged up scents, and he understood it completely, adrenaline, pure energy coursing through a body, energy that was being worked hard at to contain. So they weren’t amateurs, professional intruders, what then, military…?
That last thought sent his memory flying back to that time in the mansion, Stryker’s invasion, fleeing through the night, swearing blue murder, remembering thinking what he would have done, how he would have enjoyed ripping each of those soldier’s apart piece by fuckin’ piece.
But she’d needed him then, Marie, fragile and afraid, needed him then, and needing him now. He burst into the room claws unsheathed, grating them against each other, the metal screeching as the sparks flew from them, roaring loudly, his shoulder hard against the door, he sent it flying off the hinges, as well as the unsuspecting soldier stood on the other side of it.
He was pinned beneath the fallen door, Logan took extra pleasure in stepping over the wood, making sure to pound his feet hard, and makin’ sure he ground the fucker’s face into the floor as he did.
The burst of gunfire from readied guns could never have caught him off guard, he’d almost expected it, and as he flew through the arc, deadly claws held out in front of him he made sure he stared into the eyes behind that cowards mask.
He shredded the gun with an easy wipe, the weapon now useless; Logan smiled grimly as the soldier stared at him, bug eyes filled with fear peeking through a covered face, Logan picked him up easily and sent him flying through the window, he landed with a bone crunching thud on the bonnet of car parked outside before sliding limply down to the tarmac and passing out.
Now there was only one left, the bastard who’d slammed the bathroom door as he’d seen Logan coming. The dumb shit had to be kiddin’ himself if he thought that was gonna keep him out, as long as he had Marie in there, as long as he was hurtin’ her, no fuckin’ way was Logan gonna let him live.
He kicked the door open, the wood splintering easily, he growled loudly as he recognised the face hovering over Marie.
Marie, little Marie, now looking more broken than ever, lying flat out on her back, her hair tumbling about her, her fists clenched, whimpering in fear. Logan’s eyes took in everything, the sight of her body writhing in pain, the spent vials that lay around her, and the blood from needles forced deep into her arms trickling down her skin.
Logan looked up at the man who stood above her, his growl fierce; he lunged forward only to be brought up short by the sight of the barrel of a handgun aimed directly at his head. He stopped for the briefest of seconds, before the trigger was pulled and the bullet imbedded itself in his skull. He saw black and fell to the floor.
Marie could only wonder at the sounds that crowded in on her as she struggled against the pain, the aches that seemed to tear at every parts of her body. Her arms ached, her legs felt broken, her chest seemed to be caving in, every breath a struggle, and her head pounded.
What was happening, she thought she heard screamin’, bodies fallin’, the thud and crunch of bones crushing, of pain resounding, every single vibration in the air was a cacophony of noises that hounded in on her, that meshed into one unending, heart wrenching scream.
And she realised it was her scream, she’d cried out against the blackness that was overcoming her, her sight was failing and now she was going deaf as well, it was too much, it was all too much.
A soothing hand was passed over her face and she clutched at it desperately, something, somebody was there, somebody was going to help her, she would be saved. She blinked against the grateful tears that fell down her face, blinked through the haze, and saw the brief outline of a man, someone she recognised.
Joe, it was Joe, her friend he would save her, ‘It’ alright…’ he seemed to be whispering, this’ll all be over soon, don’t worry Marie, I’m gonna take care of you…’
Logan stirred slightly, his movement was slow and calculating, he watched as the barman crouched close to Marie, he was talkin’ to her, all the while whispering to her.
The bastard had shot him, sonofabitch, Logan knew he couldn’t trust him, there’d been something ‘bout him, the way he’d given information so easily, small snippets of things he knew Logan could never really make sense of.
They all made sense now, he’d watched the barman almost as much as he’d watched Marie, he’d seen the way Joe assessed situations, seen the way he’d studied every body that walked through the door of that bar, weighing up the threat the new face exposed, watching, calculating always sussing out the new faces.
Seeing how far their interest in Marie travelled, watching over Marie, and keeping her close.
It was a military mind, Logan should have guessed, the furtive half-glances Joe threw around the room, looking, seeing everything in an instant, calculating odds, the precise movements, the studied air of a man playing at barman. Fuck, he should have known, Joe was the inside man.
Logan turned his head slightly to one side, concentrating on the spent bullet that he pushed out of his skull, catching it gently in the palm of his hand without a sound, not wanting the cartridge to hit the tiled floor.
He wanted to catch this fucker completely off guard, he gritted his teeth, and in an instant the claws were out, Joe heard the swish of the adamantium too late, Logan lurched forwards with a snarl and swiped the blades deep into Joe’s combat boots, the metal moved across with deadly ease, cutting the Achilles tendon of both feet and rendering Joe useless.
The man fell to the floor in agony, just as Logan jumped to his, Joe’s second shot with the gun went wide embedding itself somewhere in the roof; Logan kicked the weapon out of his hand, before reaching down and pulling him up by his jacket.
‘What’re ya doin’ ‘ere?’ He shook him for good measure, ‘What the fuck d’ya want with Marie?’
But Joe had been trained well, he wasn’t gonna talk, even if he was bleeding heavily, his face growing paler by the second, Logan threw him back down with disgust, making sure Joe’s head hit tiled the floor hard. He jutted his claws under his chin, ‘You tell whoever you’re workin’ for to back off, ‘cause the last thin’ ya fuckers want is me comin’ after ya.’
They both knew it was a useless warning, Joe’s employers were too well connected, whoever they were it was a slick operation, waiting for months, fooling everybody, getting Marie’s trust, it had been a long drawn out process, they weren’t going to back off, not even if Logan threatened to rip their heads off.
He had to get Marie out of here, Marie was calling out again, and he heard her call out his name, ‘Joe…’
He looked down at Joe, who even as he was bleeding to death, unable to move his legs because of Logan’s handiwork seemed to be smiling, laughing at him, Logan growled before kicking him. His heavy heeled toe boot connected solidly with the man’s groin, and now it was Logan’s turn to smile as he watched Joe scream in agony.
She was moving, being lifted and carried, her eyes, eyes overflowing with tears from pain, sharp jabs of stabbing fury pulling away at her head, her aching eyes would not open. She could only catch glimpses of a tattered jean jacket, tufts of hair, and strong muscles, strong arms carrying her away, to where and to what?
Her head lolled back and she mumbled something, not words but whimpering sounds, he must have heard her; he stopped walking long enough to lay her down on something soft, something solid, something somewhere. Gripping the sides of her face he pushed her hair out of her face and leaned close, prying one eye open gently and then the other.
Hot tears, tears of pain, rolled down her cheeks, but still she couldn’t see, oh dear lord was she blind? That thought warranted another whimper, one more desperate, fearful and pathetic, she reached for his arms again, wanting needing to feel something solid, something assured, she gripped his arms tightly, her fingers digging into his jacket, fingernails embedding deep into his skin, ‘help me….’ she whispered, the first coherent words she’d uttered since the pain had started.
He ran his hands up her arms, alarmed by the skin that was already cold and clammy; with gentle strokes he tried his damn hardest to reassure her, even though the panic rose within him, the fear constricting his chest, what had they done to her?
‘Hush darlin’…’ he whispered close to her ear, ‘ah’m here, it’s gonna be alright…’
It had to be alright, he couldn’t be too late, not now, he shut his eyes and whispered a desperate prayer to whichever God he thought could be listening, ‘for fuck’s sake don’t let me be too late.’
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Author's Chapter Notes:
‘Hush darlin’…’ he whispered close to her ear, ‘ah’m here, it’s gonna be alright…’
It had to be alright, he couldn’t be too late, not now, he shut his eyes and whispered a desperate prayer to whichever God he thought could be listening, ‘for fuck’s sake don’t let me be too late.’
It had to be alright, he couldn’t be too late, not now, he shut his eyes and whispered a desperate prayer to whichever God he thought could be listening, ‘for fuck’s sake don’t let me be too late.’