Carrion (The Bren Watts Diaries #1)

Chapter 32

The vectors continued battering against the heavy doors, although it was noticeably less frantic than before. Some of them may have realized it was no use, given that it barely budged against their assault. I chose to ignore the noise, and so did everyone else. At least the walls were thick enough to drown them out, and with a full belly, I began to relax.

The Chapter House was two stories high, connected to the cloister and the cathedral's small library with a full kitchen, a sitting room, a prayer room, and a small meeting room below. There were ten rooms upstairs, separated into two groups of five; one group of rooms were for the priests and other men working in the building barred by a locked door while the other rooms were on the right hall for the nuns. Each of the halls had bathrooms. With the master keys, we unlocked the doors and slept in separate rooms.

Margot stitched my hand like a professional. I had to take antibiotics as well as a large swig of whiskey to numb the pain. Natalie ate in her room, and I didn't see Logan for dinner, probably having that talk he had promised her earlier. Bobby didn't show up as well, barricading himself in his room instead, and Margot was kind enough to give him a couple of cans of food for dinner while the others didn't even want to deal with him. Joe was now awake, back in his old, jovial self. We put all our food and supplies in one of the unoccupied bedrooms, a room that once belonged to a priest named ARTHUR from the door's sign.

I crashed into one of the bedrooms at the priests' wing of the second floor. Back in the nave, we slept next to each other in makeshift cots and bedrolls—all that safety in numbers working for our peace of mind—so sleeping alone in separate bedrooms felt like I was standing naked on the stage with many eyes watching my every move.

A light knock on the door roused me out of the bed just as my eyes started to weigh. Forcing myself to cross the short gap between the bed and the door, I opened it annoyingly to find Logan, his backpack slung loosely on his shoulders.

I instinctively stepped behind the door and stuck my head out. I was only wearing underwear and a thin white shirt. The gas and heater were still running across the city, so it was a bit warm in the Chapter House, hence my state of undress.

"Is it my turn with the watch?" I asked him.

"Um, no. Luke is still doing that. Yousef won't relieve him until midnight."

I looked at the clock hanging by the wall above the bed. It was barely eight, and yet it was pitch black outside already. "Oh. Well, do you need anything?"

Logan peered into the room, nervously shifted on the spot. "Mind if I crash in here for the night?"

I stiffened. Logan caught it right away, and he took a step back, running a hand past his hair, glanced timidly on his feet for a second, tried to form the words he was going to say to me.

"I broke up with Nat," he said finally.

I stood silent for a moment, staring at him. No tears came, or something close to it for that matter, though I didn't expect for him to be calm about it.

He glanced away, not meeting my eyes. "She left me back there. I asked her for a reason, and she mumbled something about being worse in a fight and that I can handle it all by myself." Logan scoffed. "Funny thing is, I told her that if she were in my shoes, I'd go through hell to save her, you know?"

It took me a second to respond, nodding. "So...how is she—"

"She didn't take it well."

"Oh."

"Yeah. She's crying in her room right now and even begged me to reconsider—"

"And did you?"

Logan paused. "I thought it might not be a good idea, you know? To stay in there and be all, well, close. If it's no bother at all, we can share your room."