She laughs, soft and polite, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. She’s nervous. Always is around them. I can’t blame her. The club’s alot for someone like her—all ink, fire, and violence packed into leather.
I introduce her to a few of the Ol’ Ladies—Marla and Val—the ones who actually play nice. Hound’s girlfriend, Lana joins them. They fawn over her, tell her she’s “too pretty for this hell den,” and I can see her shoulders relax.
That should make me happy. It doesn’t. Because something feels off.
My gut’s been twitching since the second she walked in. And it’s not the booze. It’s the silence.
The brat’s gone. Nowhere in sight.
No laughter, no glitter, no fucking headache hovering at the edge of my vision. Which should be a goddamn blessing, but the itch won’t go away.
I lead Sarah through the hall, toward my room. I just want ten quiet minutes with her—away from the music, the noise, the brothers yelling for another round.
I push the door open ready to crash my mouth on hers—and everything inside me goes cold.
The brat’s here. Naked.On my bed.
Her long dark hair spilled across my sheets like a fucking sin. Eyes half-lidded, lips curved in a slow, deliberate smile. “Oh, Ruin, baby,” she purrs. “Are you back for more?”
Jesus fucking Christ.
Sarah gasps beside me, a broken little sound that slices clean through the haze of my shock.
“No,” I rasp, stepping forward, palms out. “Sarah—wait—”
She’s already running, heels clicking down the hallway like gunfire, her voice shaking. “Don’t—don’t follow me, Ruin!”
My focus snaps back to the naked devil on my bed. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Charlie blinks, smile fading into something smaller, unsure. “I—I thought Glo—”
“Thought what? That this is cute?” My voice is pure gravel now. “That this is funny?”
She flinches but doesn’t move.
I stride forward, rage pounding through my veins. My vision blackens around the edges and my hand finds her throat before I even think twice.
She gasps—small and sharp—her hands coming up to claw at mine.
“If you wanna act like a club slut, I’ll fucking sign you off as one,” I snarl, dragging her to her feet. “But you don’t ever step foot in my room again. You hear me?”
“Theo—p-please—” she chokes out, eyes wide, terrified.
I ignore her terror, zeroing in on how her entitlement is costing me. How easily my given name slips through her lips.
She doesn’t matter. Not tonight. Not while she’s trying to destroy the one night that mattered to me.
“Don’t you fucking dare say my name out of that mouth!” I haul her out, ignoring her struggling, her bare feet slipping against the concrete—her bare fucking body. The hallway’s full of brothers, noise and laughter dying in an instant as they see what’s happening.
But I can barely see them anymore. Unchecked fury is climbing up my spine. My periphery darkening with a pulsing heat. All I can see is her blurring form.
“Jesus fuck,” Ryder mutters.
Wolf freezes, his face going pale when I briefly glance at him. “Ruin—”
“Don’t,” I bark.
Charlie’s trembling now, trying to cover herself with her hands, voice breaking. “I’m s-sorry. I-I didn’t mean—”
