Chapter 23: Confrontations and Justice

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"Good. That's good." Logan sagged a bit, the adrenaline draining out of him. "Virgil, can you do me a favor? Bring this piece of shit around front. I don't want to see him any longer or I might grab that bat and do something that'll land me in jail."

"Let me stand him up first." Patton reached down and hauled Jason up on his feet with one hand. He turned and looked at Logan, all steely blue eyes. "Sorry." And plowed his fist into Jason's face, sending him sprawling to the ground again.

"I don't mind a bit." Logan could feel a wide grin spreading across his face as his knees wobbled dangerously. "Not one damn bit."

Virgil hauled Jason up by the back of his collar and started marching him away, grinning meanly as he kicked the bastard's feet out from under him as they walked. "Oops, you've got to watch where you're going, Brycey." He looked back at Logan with a grin. "You sure kicked ass today, Lo."

"Thanks. And if he so much as twitches wrong, you go ahead and hit him as hard as you want. No complaints from me." Logan gave a tremulous smile as he leaned against the wall of the shop building. "But I think all this ass kicking has left me out of sorts, so if you don't mind, I'll sit right here and catch my breath?"

"Here." Patton took off his suit jacket and laid it on the ground. "No need to mess up your suit any more than it already is."

"Thank you, sweetheart." Logan sank gratefully down, leaning against Patton to take in the warmth and support he offered. He sat quietly until his heart rate slowed to normal, until the tangle of nerves, rage and disgust in his belly had eased a bit. Broken glass glittered in the sunlight, scattered on the ground around them. Glass could be replaced, he reminded himself. He'd mourn his flowers, but he'd save some of the wounded, and he'd grow more. An abundance of more.

"How's your hand?" he asked Patton.

"Fine. Good." Patton all but spat it out. "He's got a chin like a marshmallow."

"Big strong man." Logan turned to wrap his arms around him, and didn't mention Patton's raw scraped knuckles. Patton gently helped him to his feet, and he leaned in close, refusing to let him go just yet.

"He must have been crazy to think he could get away with this," Patton muttered, glaring in the direction Virgil had dragged Jason off to.

"A little, I guess. I imagine he planned to be done wrecking my place before the wedding was over. He'd figure we'd blame it on kids -- or the police would. And all I'd have was a mess on my hands. A man like that has no respect for others. He doesn't believe anyone can best him." Logan replied softly, resting his head on Patton's shoulder.

"One did." Patton shot him a look, clearly indicating he wasn't referring to himself. Logan rubbed his arms, then clutched gratefully at the lapels of Patton's jacket as he picked it up and draped it over his shoulders, wrapping an arm around him. Logan burrowed into his warmth, unsure if his bones would ever be warm again.

"I can hardly believe this happened. If you hadn't come when you had--" Logan cut himself off, refusing to entertain that line of thinking.

"We could hear you shouting." Patton said quietly. "You cost Virgil and I several years off our lives. So I'm going to say this once."

He turned, taking the lapels of his jacket into his hands and holding Logan steady so he was facing him. "And you are damn well going to hear it. I respect and admire your steely will, Logan, and appreciate your temper and capability. But the next time you so much as think about taking on some lunatic with a bat all on your own, I'm going to be doing some ass kicking. And it's going to be your ass with the bullseye painted on it."

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