I know how this club works. I’m well aware what happens to traitors.
But my brother doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. Doesn’t even flinch. He simply looks away.
And that hurts the most. My ownbrothercan’t even look at me. But then again, he barely was one. There is no way around accepting that reality now.
I’m realizing quickly that I need to let go of the naive notion of ever having a real brother. Not when he never treated me like his sister since the day I walked into this club at fourteen.
The door creaks open, and a few of the club girls step in. I know them—Trixie, Juggles, and Bel. They’ve smiled at me a hundred times before, but not tonight. Bel is frowning, taking everything in. While Trixie and Juggles share an amused look.
Glory starts sobbing, her voice turning shrill. “Wait—what the fuck, no—please—”
The first punch lands on her cheek with a wet, sick sound. She screams, and I try to twist away, to run, do something, but my chair won’t budge.
“Stop,” Glory begs, her voice breaking. “Please, it was her. I didn’t—”
The second fist hits. This time, it’s my cheek. But I had already surrendered. Pain blooms white-hot, then fades into static. And I know it won’t stop for a while.
The last thing I see before everything goes dark is Wolf turning his back.
Leaving.
THREE
Ruin
I can’t watch this. And by the looks of it, neither can Wolf. His jaw ticks once before he turns away—stiff shoulders, clenched fists, whole body like a ticking bomb that refuses to blow. He walks out without a word. Just gone.
I stare at his retreating frame for a brief moment before turning back to look at Glory and Charlie again. Glory’s a mess of skin and spit and bruises. Bel’s standing near the wall, hands shaking. Eyes huge. She’s staring like she just found out violence hurts.
“Leave since you can’t handle this,” I mutter loud enough for her to hear under Glory’s screeching.
She nods, jerky and broken, and bolts out the cell door.
Then I see it.
It’s maybe the third punch to Charlie’s head, but it rocks her to the core. Her head lolls forward. No tension. No fight. Nothing.Her whole face softens in that ugly, too-still way. Like she’s already halfway gone.
Fuck.
I can’t let this happen. I can’t let it go this far.
Hell, I know it’s incredibly hypocritical of me to even let this swift stab of guilt in. WhenI’mthe one who technically could’ve—
Fuck. Fuck.Fuck.
“Stop!” I bark.
Juggles halts mid-swing like her arm short-circuited. She steps back instantly.
Trixie doesn’t. She’s still on Glory, raining hell down like she’s got something personal to prove. Her rings flash with every hit.
I lunge forward and rip her off. Grabbing her by her waist, I pull her back.
“Get out,” I growl.
They don’t move, so I shout. “GET. OUT!”
Trixie scrambles out with Juggles behind her.
