"I'm Logan," he said, frowning at her. He tossed the rabbit into the nearest trash can. "And lucky guess. You remind me of someone I used to babysit for."
Jessica wasn’t sure if she believed that out of all the names he could have used, he just happened to get hers right. But right now, she wasn’t going to press it. “Well Logan, it’s nice to meet you,” she said dryly. “OKay, next question: what the fuck is happening?” She didn’t even know where to start. Really, an explanation for anything would go a long way right now, whether it was about the rabid rabbit, the fact that she had been sure his throat had nearly been ripped out three minutes ago (and she was sure she didn’t imagine that; his shirt was still stained with blood), or knuckle knives. Because really, none of it made any kind of sense at all.