Ruin
There’s a shift taking over Wolf’s face. He’s been mainly silent this whole time, probably trying to process the clusterfuck this new information entails. I can see something akin to determination wash over him. And it’s not entirely the Prez in him that takes over his next words. I can feel the brotherly terror radiate from him.
“Alright,” he says, voice steady. “First, we keep all this to ourselves. I’ve got a feeling Glory wasn’t our onlytraitor. Don’t tell a soul, not even the officers.”
My lips part at his commanding tone.
He turns to Ryder, his gaze belying his calmness. “I know you’re close with Healer and Scar, but we gotta keep this on a lockdown. Got it?”
Ryder’s face shows the same respect he bestows on my father. Torch has held a higher respect in his mind, but something has shifted in Wolf. And neither of us can ignore it.
“Yes, Prez,” he says, nodding once.
Wolf sighs, dragging a hand through his hair. “Tomorrow, we get her back to Wardens—if she agrees. If not, both of you will be stationed here for the foreseeable future until I can… Fuck, I’ll get Nomads and Reapers on our side. Hell’s Army is the only reason we’ve been allied, so we better fucking use it.”
I nod. It makes sense. We definitely can’t handle that club alone. They’re one of the largest clubs on this side of the country. And it’s not just that. Yeah, we’re all involved in illegal shit, but there are rumors about their involvement with the fucking Romanian Mafia.
Wolf turns back to his Sergeant-at-Arms again. “Find the bitch. Track her. Get confirmation that it’s actually Hell’s Army. I don’t care if you need to get the blues involved, I’ll cover for you.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “There’s… something I recently figured out, I’m not sure. I gotta talk to Charlotte first, but it might connect more dots.”
“What is it about?” Ryder asks.
“No, I’ll talk to her first.” Wolf shakes his head, then straightens up. “I’ll head back to Whiterun. You stay here. Try to get her back… home.”
Before he turns to leave, he points a firm finger at both of us. “Do not force her. Let herdecide. We’ll protect her no matter what. Understood?”
We both straighten our spines, the authority in his voice is unmistakable. I haven’t seen him like this since Charlotte left. I feel weirdly proud.
“We got this, Prez,” I say, slapping a firm hand on his shoulder.
He gives us both a swift, stiff nod and leaves. Ryder locks the door behind him and stares at me with so many questions in his gaze.
Neither of us have any answers. Not yet. But I know we’ll fucking find them.
??????
I jolt awake at a sharp, sudden pain slicing through my shin. The fuck—
My eyes snap open just in time to see Charlotte standing over me, bunny ears perched on her headband. She looks so fucking adorable. The contrast is almost enough to make me grin, but I catch her glare.
Yeah. Not smiling. Obviously not.
Ryder snorts from somewhere in the room, smug as hell.
“Get up,” she bites out. Cold and clipped.
I drag myself up without protest, stretching stiff muscles. The makeshift duvet bed on the carpet was not a good idea. My back cracks in three places.
The clock reads 12:46 p.m. We slept for five hours, give or take. Should be enough.
Dragging my ass to the kitchen, I find Ryder cooking eggs like we’re three friends having brunch on a Sunday morning. Charlotte hops onto the island stool, lazily popping grapes like she didn’t just assault my poor shin.
“You good with omelette?” Ryder mumbles, sleep still in his voice.
I nod and sit next to her. She shifts away slightly.
Jesus fucking Christ.
“How…” My voice comes out rusty, so I clear it. “How do you feel about heading back to the clubhouse? Just for now.”
