Logan’s POV
I didn’t start today with any specific homicidal thoughts. Sure, with the kids running around this place, screeching and screaming at each other, most mornings made me want to growl and pace and intimidate them into just a few…damn…seconds…of quiet. Just a few. That’s all I ask. Not that I get it, but that’s what I want. I don’t actually want to kill any of them.
Of course, once they graduate from this place they’re not really kids anymore, right? So I still don’t want to kill any of the kids. I want to kill one young man in particular, though. I’m practically seeing through a red haze as thick as Scooter’s pretty crystal visor right now.
When I saw Marie earlier, curled up in a ball and crying her eyes out, I knew that I was going to be busting heads. She wasn’t crying like her favorite pet had died or her car broke down, in grief or frustration. I know a lot of females cry for either of those reasons, a lot, but Marie never has, and she wasn’t then either. I could smell the anger, self-loathing and disappointment radiating from her along with the wet, salty scent of her tears. It was what had drawn me from the garage down to the small stand of trees circling the lake.
Taking Marie out to that bar hadn’t done much good for my temper, although I think she needed it more than she wanted to admit. When she started to really open up about why she was crying it took all of my willpower not to shred every piece of furniture in that stupid place. Then before I knew it I pulled her out the door, pressed her up against her own car and kissed her.
Maybe that makes me a bastard. But by the time I pulled away, Marie didn’t look like she was going to cry anymore. Instead, she looked dazed and beautiful, and I realized every word I had just said to her was true. Girls like her were a huge turn-on for me. I like them bold and a little brassy at the right moments, which Marie is growing into in spades. I like that I don’t have to dumb down my conversations about in internal workings of cars or the plays during the last hockey game with her. Hell, Marie joins me most nights when there’s a good game on. The only times she’s missed a game was when she had a date with Popsicle. I guess now she’ll have plenty of time for watching hockey, which suits just fine.
However, knowing what that little shit did to Marie doesn’t suit me at all. In fact, as I stalk down the dark halls tracking the combined scent of too-sweet perfume and ice, all I can think about is rearranging his face just a little. I want to take away that smug smirk I’m sure he wore when he was telling Marie how worthless he thought she was. Worthless. Hah! She’s worth more than that asshole will ever be, both in combat and in life. I can tell he already has another piece just waiting for him, and I know just who it is and what I’ll see when I find them. Yeah, I’ve seen them whispering too each other the last few weeks, heads close together, bodies just barely touching. I figured that one way or the other Popsicle was going to break things off with Marie. I just didn’t think he’d be such an ass about it. Maybe he thought she’d never tell. Too bad for him that I know how to make Marie talk.
It doesn’t take me long. They’re obviously done hiding. Instead, they decided snuggle up in the rec room and have a heavy make-out session. Amateur. If he wants to get into that girl’s pants, he’d have more luck finding a nice secluded place with less chance that someone might sneak up on him. Kitty’s a little skittish like that.
“Popsicle, I need a word with you. Now,” I say, dropping a heavy hand onto his cold shoulder. I squeeze unmercifully as I pull him away from the mousy brown-haired girl. I will probably never understand why the hell he would want to give up Marie for her, but I’ll thank my lucky stars anyway.
Bobby actually has the nerve to sneer at me. “What do you want, Wolverine?” he asks as he tries to shake off the hand I still have clamped on his shoulder.
“You and I are going to have a little talk. Kitty, you might as well go on upstairs. Bobby-boy isn’t going to be much use to anyone tonight,” I say, not even looking at the girl. I start dragging Bobby out of the room.
“I’m not going anywhere with you!” The little punk actually tries to stand up to me. It would be cute from one of the girls, but the guys around here usually know better than to challenge me.
I shove him against a wall and lean in close, allowing him to see the rage in my eyes by the dim light from the kitchen just beyond us.
“If you know what’s good for you, Popsicle, you won’t try to fight this.” I growl in satisfaction when he drops his eyes.
I barely notice Kitty ghosting past us as I pull Bobby into the elevator. The girl is terrified. She should be. After the elevator has started up, I open a hidden panel and press a few buttons in a certain sequence only I know. Only then do I let go of the boy’s shoulder and shake out my hand, covered in ice.
“So I guess Rogue went and cried to you, huh?” he asked sullenly.
I stared down at him, raising an eyebrow at the way he thrust his jaw forward. “Boy, she didn’t have to. I’ve been smelling you and your little slut, what you’ve been doing, for the past few weeks. I wasn’t sure you’d have the balls to actually call things off before you went and had sex with Kitty, but somehow you managed to man up enough. I don’t give enough of a fuck about you to care except—“ and here I slam a hand into the wall next to his head. He flinches, which makes me growl in satisfaction. “—that you decided to be such an ass to Rogue when you broke up with her that you deserve the beating you’re about to get. I figured you should know why you’re about to get that beating, and why you won’t say a damn word about it to anyone. Because if your little friends, especially your new little girlfriend, found out exactly what you said to my girl, your life here would become very, very uncomfortable.”
He’s scared now and doesn’t try to open his big mouth, which is smarter than I gave him credit for. I press a few more buttons and close the panel. The elevator descends.
Hours later we take the elevator back up, all the way to the level where our bedrooms are. I clap a hand on his back to push him out into the hall. He stumbles, moans low under his breath and leans against the far wall. Even in the dark I can tell that he is glaring at me through the two black and blue circles around his pretty-boy blue eyes. They match the split and swollen lip beneath them. As he moves he holds one arm close to his side. I probably didn’t break it. Might only be a hairline fracture. He limps to his door, making me grin savagely. I did my best to make sure that the bruises covering his skin from shoulder to shins would be reminders of how you’re not supposed to treat a girl for a good few weeks at least.
Just as Bobby is about to open his door, I stalk over to him and lean down again. His glare turns into terror.
“Just one more thing,” I whisper harshly, low enough to any potential eavesdroppers won’t hear. “I wanted to say thanks. Guys like me can wait a lifetime to get a girl like Rogue. You just made my job easier.”
I grin at him and walk down the hall to my own door, just to the left of Marie’s.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I have heard the pleas. This really is the last part, but I figured you guys were right--Logan really needed to beat up the Popsicle.
Chapter End Notes:
I've actually got a sequel in mind for this, but this is the definite final chapter of this one. I hope it was good!