Page 61 of Ghost Hunted

“You can always try.”

“I should kill you. But my daughter loves you and for a fucking psychopath, you do take good care of her. But you punched my girl, and I can’t let that go.”

“Well, you’re just gonna have to. I only let you kick me before because I didn’t care. But I’m pissed now. I’m fucking pissed.”

“You punched Lia,” repeats Logan, “and if you think…”

“I don’t have a problem with you. I will shoot you if you stand in my way, though. But there’s only one person dying tonight, and that’s the woman who shot Piper.”

There’s a very long pause, and I try to wrap my head around what I’m hearing.

At last, Logan speaks. “Lia didn’t mean…”

A loud sob interrupts them, and I realize it comes from me.

Moments later, I see Logan’s head appear over the bed.

“Baby. You’re awake. How are you doing?”

He smiles gently at me, a smile I can tell is forced. And he doesn’t do a thing to help me up. To free the arms and legs that I can’t seem to move, or lift me up from the hard floor.

“You’re okay,” he murmurs, pulling himself over the bed then crouching beside me. “Everything’s okay.”

“Everything’s not okay,” lashes out Quill, walking around the bed, and then I realize that the barrel of his gun is pointing at me.

Logan quickly grabs me, shielding me with his body. “Go ahead and shoot,” he growls. “You just fucking try it.”

Quill raises his arm, cocking his gun at both of us. I rest my head against Logan’s back, trying to understand what’s going on. By now I can feel the coldness around my wrists and ankles. I know why I can’t move; but I don’t understand the rest.

“I don’t want to do this,” mutters Quill. “But she shot my girl. You’d better move, Logan, or I’ll have to put a bullet in you too.”

“You know very well I’m not going to budge.”

“Yeah.” He pauses a beat. “Yeah, I guess I do. Alright.”

I shake against Logan, my mind thick with fog, trying to understand how my last memories were of Quill and Piper going sightseeing… and now I’m staring down the barrel of his gun, while she…

She’s been shot.

Oh, god, did I shoot her?

Frantically, I try to free myself, but it’s useless. “Did I shoot her, Logan? Did I really shoot her? My own baby?”

“Shh, Lia. It’s okay.”

Quill pauses, his gun still cocked.

“Oh god.” Logan’s words do nothing to stem the wave of terror crushing me. “Please, please tell me she’s okay. Please tell me I didn’t hurt her.”

“You did hurt her,” growls Quill. “That’s why I’m going to shoot.”

“No. No, no, no.” I try to stand up, but Logan holds me to him firmly. “Please tell me I didn’t do that… please, Logan…”

Loud, guttural sobs are ripped from my throat. I try again to struggle out of his grasp, to face Quill alone.

“Please… please tell me she’s okay, Logan…”

“She’s okay.”