The pain of it was just as anticipated, the strip of panelling jabbing straight through what felt like a kidney and into the wall. Well, fuck, that smarted. He guessed he hadn't expected any less.
"Ain't none'a your concern what he is and ain't to me, Creed," he said, and spat a mouthful of his own blood and Creed's in his general direction. "And don't think I won't slap that taste right outta yer mouth."
He couldn't pull back far enough to get the claws out; he popped them back in, pulled his hands free and pressed one against Creed's shoulder, another against that spike. When they came out again, wood and bone splintered in their wake and Logan dropped to the floor.