Chapter 27
Reagan
At the clubhouse, the air is thick with a tension I can taste on my tongue. The usual noise—music, laughter, the clatter of pool balls—is absent. I push through the front door, and every head in the room turns to look at me like I have shit on my face.
One of the enforcers stares at me with something between pity and disgust. One of the club girls leans against the bar, her arms crossed, shaking her head. A few of the younger guys exchange glances, their expressions unreadable.
My stomach drops. Heat floods my face. I feel naked and ashamed. My hands shake. I clutch the Purple Prince tulip Carla gave me, its stem bending under the pressure of my grip.
They know. That must be it. They’ve figured it out. They know my secret. That’s why Shane didn’t come to pick me up. Oh my God. Shane.
“Where is Blue?” My voice quivers. “Where is he?”
When no one answers, my heart stops. This can’t be happening. I’ll die if anything happens to him. I—
Yelling. Crashing. The unmistakable sound of fists hitting flesh slices through the shameful silence.
“You lying piece of shit!” Mason’s voice echoes from the back rooms. “Tell them the fucking truth!”
“Fuck you!” Shane roars back. “You sick bastard, she's fourteen!”
“Shane!” I break into a run, shoving past the brothers blocking the hallway.
The door to what they call the chapel is open, and inside Shane and Mason are on the floor, tangled together in a mess of blood and rage.
Mason’s lip is split, his eye already swelling.
Shane’s knuckles are bleeding. His chest heaves as he pins Mason down.
“Stop!” I scream.
Shane’s head snaps toward me, his blue eyes wild. Blood trickles from his nose. “Reagan, baby, don’t—”
“Get off him!” I grab Shane’s arm to pull him back, but he’s as solid as a wall. My eyes roam the room, asking for help.
Prez is sitting at a table, flanked by two of his men. He shoots up and bangs the table with his fist, and I flinch. “Enough.” His voice is final and terrifying. “Both of you. On your feet.”
Shane releases Mason and stands slowly. Mason scrambles up and spits blood onto the floor.
“Is this true, Bloom?” Prez demands.
“No!” Mason blazes. “That’s bullshit! I never—”
“Stop fucking lying,” Shane growls. “She came to me, told me you messed with her. She didn’t know what to do or who to trust. She ain’t lying. Why the fuck would she?”
Mason’s wild eyes find mine. “Reagan, tell them. Tell them the truth. I never touched you. Never.”
The room spins. “What?” The word barely makes it past my lips. I can’t breathe. My mind goes blank. Shane is staring at me, his expression soft, pleading. The same look he gave me yesterday. Trust me, baby girl. I’ll fix it.
This is how he is fixing it.
“Tell them the fucking truth!” Mason shouts.
“Stop scaring her, you son of a bitch!” Shane wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Baby, I know you scared. He maybe threatened ya, told ya to keep it hush hush. But y’ safe now. You can tell.”
“I never threatened or touched her!” Mason fumes. “Shane, you fucking liar—”
“Enough bullshit!” Prez interrupts, and I feel sick to my stomach. “Reagan.” He steps closer, his voice gentler now. “You ain’t in no trouble. No one is gonna hurt ya. Just wanna know what happened. Is it true? You and Mason are together? Is he your boyfriend?”
My mouth opens and closes. No words come out. I just shake my head.
“So what happened between the two of ya? He touched ya? You wanted him to or…?”
Tears blur my vision. The urge to vomit is getting stronger. I look at Shane with a plea. Please don’t make me do this.
“She maybe too scared to answer, but I got proof.” Shane pulls out a phone and flips it open. He presses the right and left arrows multiple times. “Look at this shit.”
He holds it up for Prez to see.
It’s me. In the red bikini Shane bought me. Posing on the beach, smiling at the camera. The photos he took on my fourteenth birthday. But they’re not on Shane’s phone anymore. They’re on Mason’s.
“The fuck is that?” Prez grabs the phone, scrolling through the images. His face darkens. “Jesus Christ.”
“I found them this morning.” Shane shakes with manufactured rage. “Went through his phone when he was in the shower. That sick fuck been taking pictures of her, keeping them for his fucked-up funtime shit.”
Prez shoves the phone in Mason’s face. “You sick fuck.”
“That’s not—” Mason lunges forward, but the enforcers grab him and slam him back against the wall. “I don’t have those photos! I never took those!”
“Check the rest of the photos on his phone, Prez. There’s plenty where that came from, other girls, too, from school.” Shane darts a daring glance at Mason. “You didn’t take those, too?”
“Shane, you set me up to save your own ass, you fucking—”
"Enough!" Prez roars.
“Reagan, please.” Mason’s voice breaks. “You know I didn’t do this. I tried to warn you. You know it was—”
“Shut him up,” Prez snaps.
One of the enforcers punches Mason in the gut. He doubles over, gasping.
The room goes silent. Mason’s chest heaves, his eyes locked on Shane and me with pure hatred.
Shane turns to me. His hands cup my face, gentle, loving, the way they always do when we’re alone. “Don’t be afraid,” he whispers, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Told ya I’d take care of it. Promised I’d protect ya.”
He’s lying. He’s lying to everyone, me included. He’s not protecting me. He’s protecting himself.
He took those photos. He gave me that swimsuit. He kissed me on that beach and told me I was beautiful. And now he’s giving it all to Mason. Then he’s asking me to play along, to lie. To send Mason—innocent, trying-to-warn-me Mason—to whatever hell the club has planned for him. All to save himself.
“Reagan.” Shane’s thumb brushes my cheek, wiping away a tear that has fallen against my will. “Baby girl, look at me.”
I look into those blue eyes that have been my salvation, my only source of safety and love for nearly a year. And I see a stranger.
“Tell them,” he says softly. “Tell them what Mason did to you so we can protect you.”
My heart shatters. “I… I can’t…”
Shane’s grip on my face subtly tightens. A warning. A reminder. This is the only way we stay together. The only way I don’t go to jail. The only way we don’t lose everything.
“Take your time, sweetheart,” Prez says. “We know this is hard.”
“Mason… I…” I’m sorry.
Mason’s eyes meet mine across the room. They’re filled with anger but also sadness, pity and resignation.
He knows what I’m about to do. He knows why.
“It’s okay, baby,” Shane says. His gaze speaks volumes. I love you. Please. Please do this for us.
In this moment, I realize love isn’t always beautiful. Sometimes it’s a choice between two kinds of pain. Sometimes it’s a betrayal dressed up as devotion. Sometimes it’s the person you’d die for asking you to become someone you’ll hate.
My tulip falls from my hand as my mouth opens. Shane’s entire body goes rigid. The room holds its breath.
The purple petals crush under my shoe as the words that come out destroy everything.