Chapter 2
TWO
Charlotte
TWO MONTHS LATER
It’s been eight weeks since I got dragged naked through the clubhouse. Eight weeks since Ruin’s hand was on my throat. And now, I’m back behind the club bar.
Sinful Chugs smells like beer, sweat, and skin. Always has. Except this time, it’s quieter. Or maybe I’m quieter.
I shouldn’t even be here. I had begged to resume this gig like it was penance, and Wolf finally caved after a week of relentless pleading once my banishment was over. I told him I needed the money. That I needed purpose.
But the truth is, I didn’t know what else to do.
The prospect, Shane, leans against the counter, trying to look casual while wiping glasses. “You’re gonna rub a hole in that counter, Charlotte,” he mutters, smirking faintly.
“Charlie,” I correct him automatically. Like it’s a trigger response ingrained in me.
“Right. Charlie,” he says, lips twitching. “Why aren’t you always this sunny?”
I offer a thin smile. “Only on weekends.”
He laughs, low and awkward, before turning to refill a tap.
I’ve worked with him at the club bar for just under a year now. And this is usually the extent of our conversations. Nothing more, nothing less.
But it’s strangely calming. And extremely daunting since he’s the glaring exception.
I don’t know what I expected coming back here. Maybe familiarity. Maybe to feel like I still belonged in the club, but I’m starting to realize it’s different now.
Most people are careful around me, like I’m glass, or worse—a ghost that hasn’t figured out she’s dead.
My throat tightens.
I haven’t seen Glory in two months either. The name tastes wrong in my mouth. She’s been my best friend since I was fourteen. My only friend, really. But is she?
When I first moved to the clubhouse, I didn’t know how to be here. My father barely looked at me, Wolf was too busy becoming the next Prez, and I was just… there. Unwanted. A stray dog.
Then Glory smiled at me. Told me she liked my hair. Told me I was special. Told me she’d teach me how to do makeup. I can now draw in my eyeliner with one swift, perfect motion.
But now, when I think about her voice—soft, sugary, sticky—I feel something twist in my gut. Like my memories are wrong. Like they don’t fit right anymore. She used to say so many things. Two months without her and I’m losing the memories of her words.
I can’t remember the why of it all.
Why did I think Ruin was mine? Why did I believe if Wolf belonged to Glory, Ruin would somehow belong to me?
Why did I make their lives hell for years and call it love?
Shit. That can’t be love. Not with the way Ruin had dragged me naked in the middle of the clubhouse. I didn’t even know he was seeing someone. Glory said this was my chance to bag the VP—whatever that meant. And I went along with it. I had to.
But I can’t remember why I had to.
Why did I even feel like I could handle being completely bare in front of him? The moment his door opened that night, I was already going through ways I could hide the body no one has ever seen.
I blink down at the rag in my hand. The same motion, the same streak of nothing across the counter.
The truth is, I can’t remember a single real conversation with Ruin. Not one. Not since I turned fifteen.
Shane breaks my thoughts. “You good?”
I force a shrug. “Yeah. Just tired.”
He nods, not believing me but smart enough not to push. He’s probably wondering what new havoc I’m planning to wreak.
I look around the bar. Same walls, same crooked neon sign. Same old photos of the older generation in their heyday. But I’m somehow different.
Then the door opens. Two shadows cut through the late afternoon sun like a storm.
Wolf, my brother. And Ruin. Both wearing the same expression—hard, cold, furious.
My stomach drops.
Ruin’s eyes sweep the room, landing on me like a loaded gun. He looks even bigger than before. Harder and meaner.
And Wolf seems unreadable. His expression blank.
My breath catches. “What—” I start, my voice small, shaky. “What’s going on?”
Their gaze never unpins from me as they stare without answering. My questions don’t matter right now, nor are they wanted.
But I know something’s wrong. And whatever it is, it has something to do with me somehow.
They both stop right in front of my bar station, cutting off my air with their presence. Ruin’s jaw ticks, and Wolf’s expression shifts, just slightly. He looks haggard. Devastated in a way I can’t name.
All while Ruin doesn’t look at me, not really. He looks through me, then toward his Prez, like he’s silently asking for permission.
He doesn’t wait for it. Three words drop from his mouth like a sentence. “Bound and gag.”
“What?” I choke out.
“Do it,” Wolf rasps, voice cracking just enough to make me flinch.
A random prospect comes out from behind them glancing between them, but Ruin’s glare is enough to send him forward. Shane is watching the quiet chaos with a solemn frown. But he chooses his brothers—the club. I wouldn’t expect anything else.
I stumble back, hitting the shelf behind me, glass shattering at my feet.
“Wait—no, wait—what did I—”
Strong hands grab my arms, twisting them behind my back. The cold bite of a zip tie digs into my wrists, slicing my skin. My chest tightens, panic flooding my throat.
“Dane!” I cry out to my brother, looking for something—anything—in his face. But there’s nothing there. Just stone. Just the Prez.
Just Wolf.
I want to fight. I really do. But what’s the point? They’ve already decided.
My body goes still, trembling but surrendering. I feel the rag shoved between my teeth, the taste of beer and bleach coating my tongue.
Oh God. It’s happening again. Someone taking away my voice.
They drag me out of the bar and toward the clubhouse. My boots scrape against the floor, and I hear the echo of people falling silent as we pass. Not a single one says a word. Of course they don’t. No one defies Ruin. Or Wolf.
A few minutes pass and I’m hauled across the main clubhouse hall, toward the basement. The sharp smell of damp concrete and diesel hits my nose.
And fear. Fear hits me too. In fact, it consumes me.
I’m shoved into a chair beside someone already tied down.
Glory.
Her eyes are wild, rimmed red, her hair a tangled halo of sweat and tears. She looks at me and laughs, sharp and unhinged. “Didn’t think we’d end up together again, huh, baby doll?” she wheezes. “Full circle.”
“What—what’s happening?” I whisper through the gag.
Her grin turns crooked. “Not sure what you said, but can you tell them the truth, for once? You’re the smart one, right?”
Why am I gagged and she isn’t?
But her words hit me like a slap. “What?”
Ruin steps into the dim light, the shadow of his cut spilling across the floor like judgment itself. “You didn’t think we’d find out? That you’ve both been stealing from the club register,” he says, voice low, controlled, deadly. “Five years’ worth of money. Over two hundred grand.”
“What?” I scream into the gag, shaking my head violently. “No! I—”
Glory cuts me off with a shriek. “She told me to fucking do it! That it’d be easy. That you’d never suspect a club princess!”
What?
My breath stutters. “That’s not true! S-She’s lying,” I try to say, but it comes out as a muffled sob. Nothing goes past the gag.
Ruin’s expression doesn’t flicker. “You’re both guilty. Doesn’t matter who started it. We’ve seen both your bank accounts. Gotta say…” He crouches in front of me. “You knew what you were doing. Clever, almost. But you became sloppy these past few months.”
Accounts?
Sloppy?
“I didn’t—I swear—I didn’t!” My wrists burn against the zip ties, skin tearing. Managing to dislodge the gag enough that I’m coherent.
I plead for mercy with my brother. “Please, Da—Wolf, you have to believe me. I didn’t take anything. Why would I?”
He doesn’t say anything. Just shakes his head toward the ground.
Instead Ruin steps closer, towering, every inch the Vice President now. “You both like your club slut ways, don’t you?” he growls. “Then you’ll see what happens to them when they betray us.”
“Please. You have t-to believe me!” I scream, tears flooding my vision.
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 own brother can’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.