He gives Wolf a shove before letting go of his cut. I can see the wrinkles on the leather against the dim light of the club.
Before I can get a word in, Wolf strides over to Sarah, who is still struggling against Misty’s hold. Low, angry growls escaping her mouth.
I never thought the shy, sweet Sarah from two years ago was hiding this side of hers. She is nothing like the mousy girl I flirted with at my tattoo shop. And I’m wondering what brought this on.
“When?” Wolf tilts his head menacingly, showing every bit of the Prez that he is. “When did you hear me say Charlotte is never coming back?”
Sarah’s eyes widen unnaturally. I can see fear dull the previous, confident spark in her eyes. She starts to shake her head frantically, making me narrow down on the possibility that she’s probably not as innocent. But we need to dig in deeper.
“Misty.” I nod at her, and she promptly lets Sarah go.
She’s no longer struggling. In fact, she’s looking like a cornered animal, constantly darting her gaze toward the exit.
“When, Sarah?” Wolf asks again in a calm voice. Sarah still flinches.
“J-Just a year ago. I… you said…”
“What did he say?” I jump in when she trails off.
Her whole frame is shaking like a leaf. It’s as though she’s realizing the club she’s been avoiding is as dangerous as she imagined—or didn’t. But we won’t hurt her, we just need answers.
“H-He—” She stammers, her attention on me. “He said Charlotte w-was never coming b-back. That she’s not c-club anymore.”
“…as much as I’d like her to be,” Wolf finishes with a resigned whisper.
Sarah gives the floor a shaky nod. Her demeanor miles apart from the catty woman she was a moment ago. And I know it’s all because of the dangerous gleam in Wolf’s eyes.
He sighs, walking away and I almost mirror him. I have no idea what he’s thinking, but one thing is for certain—Sarah needs to be investigated.
“Take her to Ruin’s office,” he mutters to Joe, one of the prospects. Then he looks at me. “You… my office. Now.”
A blink—and he walks away, shoulders stiff.
I risk a glance toward Charlotte, who is watching Sarah being taken to one of the rooms. Her expression is unreadable, but I still notice the way her shoulders are squared, chin up in a way that claws out respect from everyone here.
Her silence wasn’t an armor here. It was a tactical move, weaponizing her earned, untouchable peace.
I long to walk over, tell her I didn’t mean anything by the words I’d used to placate Sarah over two years ago. But my plans dissipate like smoke when I see fucking Ryder approach her.
I can’t hear what he’s saying, but Charlotte’s face softens—so does my Mama’s.
Fucker probably called herloveagain. Thinking about his voice forming that word makes my blood boil, but that rage has nowhere to go.
I hastily make my way to Prez’s office, locking the door behind me as a million things tangle wildly in my head. Wolf is standing behind his desk, hands resting on the wood, tapping it with an unsteady finger.
“Tell me exactly when you met Sarah,” he says without looking up.
God! Looks like I’ll be interrogated first.
“It was a month before I was patched in as VP. She came in for a tattoo.” My voice is rough with anger, jealousy, and frustration that I brought in from outside. “Then… well, you know what happened that night.”
A shameful heat rises in my spine as he nods, head still down. I can see a frown marring his face. The lines near his eyes are tight with tension. I probably look the same too. It’s the good old paranoia.
“She dumped you after that,” he notes, his tone questioning.
“She… yes. But then we met again at Calli’s diner a year ago. That’s when we… started up again.”
He looks up sharply. “She knew you visit that diner often? That our tattoo shop, yourwork, is merely three blocks away?”
