“I don't want to think about revenge or consequences right now,” I finally said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Not until I know why she killed Cal. Otherwise it’ll haunt me forever; the not knowing.”
“Well, the only way we’ll ever know the truth is if we get a confession out of her,” Julian said. “But that could be a problem, because she’s gotten away with it so far. So why would she ever admit it now?”
“That’s a good point,” Roman muttered.
I nodded slowly. “Even if we confront her and tell her we have proof, we can’t really use it, and I’m sure she’ll realize that pretty quickly,” I said, setting the burner phone down on the table between us. “All we have is tracking data that was obtained illegally, and a few text messages that could technically be explained away by Cherry having her phone stolen for a few hours that night by the ‘real killer’ who needed to pretend to be her in order to lure Cal out. Oh, and I guess we also have a theory about an EpiPen that we can't actually prove at all. So if we report Cherry to the police, and they take her in, I bet she’ll claim she’s innocent and then keep her mouth clamped firmly shut after that. Then we’ll never know why she did it.”
“That’s true.” Julian rubbed his jaw, eyes narrowing. “Even if they charge her and get a conviction, she might still refuse to say why she did it. Just out of spite. Or because she wants to play the long game of ‘I was falsely convicted’so she can appeal the sentence later.”
Roman cut in. “Are you forgetting we’re Club members?” he asked, looking at his brother. “We don’t need to involve cops or lawyers. We can justmakeCherry tell us why she did it.”
My forehead wrinkled. “Make her?”
He gave me a hard look. “You know what I mean, Violet,” he said in a low voice. “We have ways of getting information from people who don't want to share it.”
“You mean torture.” The word tasted bitter on my tongue.
“Exactly. Make her tell us. Then make her disappear.”
A chill ran through me at the casual way he said it.Make her disappear.
Maybe she deserved that after what she'd done to Cal. But the thought of giving the order—of nodding my head and saying ‘yes, torture her to get the information I want’—made something inside me recoil.
I'd killed Neil when I was nine years old, and that guilt had haunted me for years. Now, the thought of deliberately ordering someone's torture, even someone who'd murdered my sister, felt like crossing yet another line I couldn't uncross.
This was what the Club did. This was their world. Violence as a solution, torture as a tool, making problems disappear. And I understood it, in a cold, logical way. But understanding it and actually participating in it were two very different things.
“No,” I said, meeting Roman's eyes. “No torture.”
His jaw clenched. “Violet—”
“I get it, Roman. I know she deserves it. I know what she did was unforgivable,” I said, my voice steady despite the churning in my stomach. “But I can't be the person who orders that. I just... I can't.”
“So what do you suggest?” he asked, frustration bleeding into his voice. “Ask her nicely and hope she feels like sharing?”
“No, of course not,” I said. “But there has to be another way. Something that doesn't involve...” I gestured vaguely, unable to finish the sentence.
“Violet, she killed Cal,” Roman said, his voice raw. “She fuckingkilledher. And you're telling me you don’t want to hurt her? Not even a little bit?”
I slowly shook my head. “I really don’t think torture will give us what we need,” I said. “People will say anything when they’re in pain. So we'd get a confession, sure. But would the reasonCherry gives us actually be true? Would we everreallyknow why she did it, or would we just get whatever story she thinks will make the pain stop the fastest?”
Roman's hands curled into fists on his thighs, but some of the fight seemed to drain out of him. “All right. No torture,” he said through gritted teeth. “But that means we need another plan. Because I'm not letting that bitch walk away from this.”
“She won't. I promise,” I said, even though I had no idea how I was going to keep that promise. “But whatever we do, it has to be smart, because we’ll probably only get one shot at this.”
Julian was quiet for a moment, studying my face. “There’s something I do on Reaper missions sometimes,” he finally said. “When I need information from someone who’ll probably refuse to give it up out of spite, because they know they're facing death. You might be able to adapt the same method to get a confession from Cherry without hurting her.”
“How does it work?” I asked, brows rising.
“First, you make the target understand that they've been caught. That they're cornered, with no way out,” he said. “They realize pretty quickly that the consequence for what they've done is death, and they become desperate.”
He leaned forward slightly, his voice taking on a clinical tone, like he was explaining a chess strategy rather than interrogation techniques.
“Then you offer them hope. An ‘out’. You tell them you personally want them dead, but you've been given orders from higher-up to try and make a deal with them. If they give you the information you need, the consequences will be... manageable. Maybe exile, maybe imprisonment, but not death. But, if they fail to give you the information you need, then you have orders to kill them after all. Of course…” He briefly paused. “That offer isalwaysa lie. They’re going to die either way. But they're sodesperate to believe there's a way out that they take it every time.”
I stared at him. “So… I need to trick Cherry. Make her think confessing will save her skin, and then—”
“And then you decide what actually happens to her in the end,” Julian finished. “You'd have the confession. The real reason. And you'd still have the power to choose whether she faces the courts or the Club. Whether she gets mercy or justice.”
