“Protect me?” Chase barked a laugh, bitter and sharp. “You don’t get to protect me. You don’t get to make that choice. We made a pack to protect my sister, especially after she fell apart the year Mila left.”
The silence that followed was jagged. Too heavy.
Chase’s jaw worked, as if he had a hundred more things to throw at us but couldn’t pick just one. Finally, he shook his head, eyes burning.
“You think this is a joke? You think it’s just about some code?” His voice roughened, breaking somewhere in the middle. “You didn’t see her last year. You weren’t here when she fell apart—when some guy she never named messed with her after Mila left and she stopped eating, stopped talking, I could’ve lost my sister.”
Avery flinched, color draining from her face. “Chase, stop,” she whispered, voice small and shaking. “Not here.”
He didn’t even look at her, eyes locked on Jax like he was the only one there.
Guilt twisted low in my stomach.“After Mila left.”The words scraped raw. I hadn’t known—not all of it. Avery told me a little when I first came back, in the library—what Elise had done, and how she’d kept if from the guys.“After you left, she harassed me. I didn’t handle it well.”
I grasped Avery’s hand, twining my fingers tightly with hers. Everyone had thought it was some guy that had broken her down, that made her confidence crack. But it hadn’t been.
“She’s finally good. And now you—” His hand snapped toward Jax, fingers curling into a fist before he forced them open. “You hook up with girls, Jax. You move on. That’s who you are. I can’t let you treat her like another one-night stand you’llforget the next day. I won’t watch her break like that because of someone I trusted.”
Avery’s breath hitched, a wounded sound she attempted to swallow. She released my hand and stepped forward, eyes bright with humiliation and hurt. “That’s not fair. You don’t get to talk about me as if I’m not standing right here.”
But Chase was already done listening. He ripped his gear bag off the bench, slung it over his shoulder, and stormed past. The exit door slammed behind him, the sound ricocheting down the hall with the crack of a gunshot.
The room exhaled. Tension bled into mutters, into the shuffle of feet, into skates unlaced with trembling hands. But I couldn’t move.
I just stood there, pulse roaring, while the wreckage of friendship and loyalty scattered around me. This—this was exactly the kind of fracture Elise would salivate over. Division she could pry open, rumors she could weaponize. And with Tori still tangled in her orbit, it wouldn’t take much for the wrong words to reach the wrong ears. We couldn’t afford to be divided. Not when our enemies circled the way sharks do around blood. And still, echoing in my head, the crack of Chase’s fist—sharp, final, proof of how fast we could tear ourselves apart.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
LUKE
The fight was still ringing in my ears long after the door slammed behind Chase. The whole place shook with the aftershock.
Jax stood where Chase had left him. Blood streaked down from his mouth, his ribs rising in jagged bursts, but he hadn’t lifted a hand. Not once. He’d let Chase beat on him until the rage burned itself out—and he hadn’t broken. I wasn’t sure if I admired him for it or wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him until he fought back.
Avery pressed herself against him as though she could hold him upright by sheer will. His arm wrapped around her—steadying her more than himself. She sobbed into his chest—muffled words I couldn’t make out—and he lowered his head, murmuring something softly. His voice was calm, even—the way it got when shit spun out of control.
“It’ll work out,” he told her. Just like that. Like he could take a shattered friendship, years of loyalty, and a fresh betrayal and call it something that would “work out.”
I wanted to believe him. God, I wanted to.
Mila hovered nearby, her arm grazing Avery’s back, a steady touch in the chaos. She didn’t speak.
Jax lifted his head finally. His eyes found mine over Avery’s shoulder, steady but hollow. Then he looked to Mila. “Take her with you. To your place.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing blood across his jaw. “That’s probably best. For now, anyway.”
Avery stiffened. “I’m not?—”
“You are,” he cut in, but softer this time, brushing his thumb along her cheek. “Go with Mila. I’ll see you later.”
Her lip trembled, but she nodded. She let Mila guide her away, sneakers squeaking on the floor, until the two of them disappeared down the hall. Jax’s eyes followed them until they were gone. His hand curled into a fist, then uncurled, like he wasn’t sure what to do with it.
We headed toward the locker room, the weight of the exchange trailing behind us. Inside, metal benches lined the walls, gear bags gaped open beneath them, the cloying stench of disinfectant doing nothing to cover sweat and damp fabric. The room buzzed with low, uneasy mutters. Every eye still carried the imprint of what they’d seen—Chase’s fists, Jax’s silence, Avery’s tears.
That was when the silence broke. A voice I’d been waiting to hear and dreading all the same.
“Well.” Logan leaned against the lockers closest to the door, arms folded, his smirk sharp enough to cut. Two of his guys lounged nearby, grins matching. They hadn’t been part of the fight, but they’d sure as hell had watched. “Didn’t take much for your group to crumble, huh? Family, loyalty…what’s next?”
A low buzz went through the guys still hanging back, nervous energy sparking as if the air itself carried a charge.
I didn’t even look at him. “Fuck off, Logan.”
