Chapter 13
Ren
The bathroom hummed with the club’s music vibrating through the floor like a mini earthquake. Ivy hadn’t stopped crying since we came in here, and her mascara was now smudged in streaks down her face.
Strangely, the look felt symbolic for everything we’d all been through lately. I handed Ivy a damp paper towel and leaned against the counter.
“Here,” I said softly. “Before you look like a goth rocker unless that was your inspiration.”
She let out a wet snort. “More like crazy Halloween murder doll.”
“Ugh, why go there? Dolls are creepy,” I said with an exaggerated shudder.
She dabbed her eyes, slowing the tears, but her hands still shook.
“I didn’t mean for tonight to blow up like that. I’ve made such a mess of everything, and now I’ve lost both of them.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose as she tried to hold back the emotion.
“Hey, it’s going to be okay.”
I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, giving her a one-armed hug and forcing her to turn toward me so I could hold her. Ivy clung to me as she sniffled.
“How can you be so sure?”
I shrugged. “I just am.”
The door opened, and Chantry walked inside.
“Can I come in?”
Ivy nodded, and Chantry joined our hug.
“What would I do without you two?” She mumbled.
“What happened,” Chantry asked.
Ivy made a frustrated noise that I understood all too well. She pulled away and dabbed at the fresh mascara lines.
“I never should’ve told Sabastian the truth, at least not here.
But he knew something was off all week and kept asking me what was wrong.
Then, Zigzag showed up. He was openly flirting and saying shit to poke at Sabastian.
Then he mentioned his favorite coffee shop.
Zigzag was basically dangling what happened between us over my head.
He didn’t come right out and say it, but I could tell he was just waiting to make a scene.
Maybe he was goading me into telling the truth, I really don’t know.
Either way, I decided to come clean. God I’m so stupid. ”
She covered her face and screamed.
“So, so stupid,” she said, the words muffled. “None of this would’ve happened if I’d just stayed away that day, or pushed Zigzag when he tried to kiss me, or hell, told Sabastian about it right away.”
Placing her hands on the sink, she shook her head.
“You don’t owe them an explanation, and from what you told me, this is on Zigzag. He lured you out, took advantage of the situation and you, and is now exploiting it for his own gain,” Chantry said.
“I did kiss him back. He wasn’t wrong about that, and it did rekindle the feelings I’d been suppressing,” Ivy admitted. “But it doesn’t diminish what I feel for Sabastian. I don’t know what to do. I certainly didn’t set out to hurt anyone.”
“Did you mean to break up with Sabastian?”
“No,” she groaned.
“Then why did you tell him you two were done for now,” I asked.
Ivy sighed. “He was so angry about the kiss and said some really rude things before he started threatening Zigzag. Then he yelled he was going to kill Zigzag and punched him. I know he was hurt, but he just kind of lost it, and honestly what he said really hurt me.” She rubbed her forehead.
It was quiet again for a few breaths—just the muffled echo of music and laughter from the club. I should’ve been used to chaos by now. Between death threats, family feuds, and watching people I loved almost die, you’d think a bar fight over a girl wouldn’t faze me.
But it was never about the fight. It was the fallout—the whispers, the gossip, the next viral clip that waited to shred someone’s life, that made a horrible situation a million times worse.
My reflection in the mirror didn’t look much better than Ivy’s. My hair was a bit wild and out of place, my lip gloss had faded, but my eyes were steady. What I needed was a week of sleep in a remote, quiet place, where I could read, sip coffee, and recharge.
“Is it stupid to think that I wanted what you have,” Ivy asked, and I cocked my brow at her.
“I’m not jealous…okay, that’s a lie. I am jealous, but not because of who you’re with, just that you found a way to make it all work.
Five guys put aside any differences to be with you. That’s like every girl’s dream.”
“Not mine, one is more than complicated, let alone multiple,” Chantry said, making the three of us laugh.
“Okay, not everyone, but you know what I mean. I love them both. I can’t choose between them, so instead I go crazy and tossed them both aside. How did you do it? What was the magical conversation, or touch, or potion you used? And can I have some of it?”
Ivy sighed and rubbed at the streaks on her face.
“Here,” Chantry said, opening her purse and pulling out a package of makeup wipes.
“Thanks.”
“I don’t really know how it happened. But I think it helps that they are so close.
The five of them were already ride-or-die best friends.
Zigzag and Sabastian aren’t even cordial, let alone friends.
And now, they’re rivals because they both love you.
I’m not sure what to say other than try talking to them separately. ”
“I—”
The door suddenly burst open, and laughter led the way for the high-pitched, glitter-laced, and unmistakable sound of trouble. Vicky.
She stumbled inside like she was drunk, but if she was, then she had arrived that way because no one at Volatile would serve her tonight.
Vicky was trailed by her standard trio of girls—Jennifer, Raquel, and one of the other cheerleaders whose name I hadn’t bothered to learn. They were the epitome of a perfume cloud of expensive rebellion, with phone cameras already up and rolling.
I stepped in front of Ivy so she could clean her face without the mean girls of the school filming her.
“Well, well,” Vicky crooned, voice slurred. “Look at this pathetic pity party in the bathroom.”
“Not now, Vicky,” I said, wishing for once she could be a decent, empathetic person. But that wasn’t Vicky.
“Oh, relax,” she said, waving her phone.
“You’re always so uptight. You really need to take the pickle out of your ass one of these days before it rots.
Anyway…” She snapped her fingers at us, and my anger spiked.
“Girls, meet Lark Dennison. He came here to film little old me, and I guess this place, too, but mostly me. Right Lark?”
She smiled at him. “Right,” he said, with a smirk.
His name was familiar, but I couldn’t place his name.
Lark leaned in the doorway behind them, hoodie half unzipped, the practiced smirk of someone who knew exactly how good he looked on camera.
The name clicked. He was a vlogger—one of those self-made internet celebrities who filmed their own egos for likes.
I’d seen his face on all the social media platforms—Lark & Chaos—the kind of feed that thrived on the humiliation of others. The sort of thing I hated.
He held his phone above Vicky’s head, already recording us, his next victims. The glare from the little on-camera light might as well have been millions of flashes, given how it made me feel.
Vicky draped herself around him like a scarf, purring for the camera in a seductive voice.
“He’s doing a feature on underground scenes of the elite. Isn’t that right, babe?”
“Sure am, and you are certainly the sexiest of the elite I’ve ever seen,” he said.
Vicky smiled wide, and all the while, he kept the phone steady. He finally turned it to face him and Vicky as he spoke.
“This place…no notes, just vibes. Totally raw. Totally dangerous, just like the name says. So far, it’s giving…” He growled for the camera.
“Oh God, this isn’t good,” Ivy whispered.
My pulse spiked. She was right. It was an all-ages night. No liquor. Nash was strict on that, but all it would take was one viral clip of a clearly intoxicated girl flirting with an influencer in his twenties inside Volatile, and the internet would write its obituary before midnight.
“You came here to film Vicky in the bathroom? Doing what exactly?” I crossed my arms.
“Just powdering her nose…maybe a little of something else,” he said, and Vicky laughed. Oh hell no. I pushed away from the counter and stepped closer to them.
“You need to turn that off.”
Lark blinked, amused as he looked me up and down.
“Whoa, chill, nothing terrible is going to happen. We’re vibing. Getting a feel for the scene and the best place to do our interview.”
“In the bathroom? Okay, not an interview I’d want to do, but whatever,” I said. “As you can see, the bathroom is occupied, so vibe or chill elsewhere.”
He grinned wider. “You’re good content, sweetheart, and hot. I’m digging your fire.”
Vicky’s eyes narrowed at me. Great. Lark stepped closer.
“Don’t kill the mood, just have some fun, and I’ll make you super famous.”
That was not something I ever wanted to be.
Lark reached for me, and I reacted. Grabbing his wrist, I plucked the phone clean out of his grip and hit end on the live before he could blink.
I caught a glimpse of the comments, and none of them were flattering.
“Hey, give me that,” Lark growled.
Stepping back, I twisted his wrist hard, pulling him off balance and taking his feet out like Nash had taught me.
The momentum sent him lurching forward, and he slid on the dirty bathroom tile.
I stuffed his phone in my back pocket and stared in shock that it had not only worked, but I could technically be charged with assault.
This was Nash’s fault. He made violence seem normal, and now I wanted to choke him. The irony was not lost on me.
“What the fuck?” Lark made a face as he stared at his hands. “Fucking gross.”
Vicky screeched, and I cringed.
“What the hell, Ren!”
“I’m saving your ass,” I snapped. “And mine. And this club’s. Not that you give a shit about that.”
She shoved me, forcing me back a step. It hadn’t been hard enough to hurt, but the audacity stung.
“You don’t control me!”