Gasping and gagging, Remy backpedaled as fast as he could. His nails raked down his cheek, digging deep furrows in his own face as he tried reflexively to rid his skin of the scent of Creed. It hurt, but it was better than feeling that fucking tongue, Jesus Christ...
He just lay in the hall for a moment, staring at the growing carnage. Blood everywhere, on the floors, the walls, dripping down Creed's face, spilling down Logan's chin. His stomach heaved, but he kept control of himself. There wasn't much else he could do.