Page 85 of Vows of Ruin

I step forward. “Not even close.”

Wrecker’s hand twitched at his side. “Boss—”

“No.” I don’t take my eyes off her. “She’s mine.”

I move behind her, fingers tangling in her hair, jerking her head back until she’s forced to look up at me. The pliers in my hand gleam under the bulb, cold metal, ugly on purpose.

“Last chance,” I say, my voice low, steady. “You start talking now, or you find out what silence costs.”

Her breath shakes. “Okay, okay. He found me after closing one night. Said it was business. He knew everything—about you, about the Serpents, about the mansion. I thought he just wanted to scare you.”

My stomach twists, but I keep my voice even. “And you helped him.”

Tears cut through her foundation. “He said he’d take care of me. That I deserved better than being in your shadow.”

Liam’s voice drifts from behind me, calm and lethal. “He used you.”

She flinches, whispering. “He promised—”

Max finishes it for her. “He lied.”

I let go of her hair and step back, dropping the pliers onto the chest with a clang that makes her flinch. “You should’ve known what kind of man makes you promises like that.”

She starts to cry, real tears now, the ugly, hiccupping kind.

“Wrecker,” I say without looking at him, “Lock her down. She doesn’t speak to anyone. Elias gets everything she just said, every detail.”

“You got it, boss.”

Liam’s hand brushes mine as I turn away, steady, grounding, but I can feel the question behind it. How far would you have gone if she hadn’t talked? I don’t answer. Because I don’t know.

The apartment above the club feels too still. The quiet isn’t peace, it’s a vacuum. I pace once, twice. Stop. Start again. My skin buzzes like static under my jacket. Every heartbeat is a knock against bone that won’t slow down.

I sit. Stand. Sit again. My hands are clean, but I can still feel the tack of blood between my fingers. I scrub at them until the skin burns. The smell doesn’t leave. I’ve never hurt someone I knew before, other than my parents, but that relationship was long dead before they were.

There’s a hum in the walls, the air-conditioning, maybe, but my brain twists it into voices. Muffled, distant. My pulse stutters. I look toward the door, half sure I’ll see her there. Tiffany. The way her eyes went wide when I—

I stop the thought, but it keeps going anyway. The room tips. My breath catches high in my throat. In, out, doesn’t work. The air feels too thick, like I’m drowning in it. I pull at the collar of my shirt, drag my nails down my throat, desperate for space that isn’t there.

“Breathe,” I whisper, but the sound comes out wrong, like broken glass, not words. The lights flicker. My chest won’t open. My vision tunnels. I drop to my knees because standing isn’t an option anymore. The floor feels safer, steadier, except it isn’t; it’s vibrating with my heartbeat.

Everything is noise. The hum, the echo of my own breath, the crack in the drywall that keeps getting bigger when I stare at it. The panic folds in tighter. I curl forward, palms pressed to the floor, trying to find a rhythm. It doesn’t come. My lungs seize, refuse. The harder I fight for air, the smaller the world gets.

The door opens. A burst of light, footsteps, heavy, familiar.

“Wrenley?” Max’s voice cuts through, sharp enough to hurt. I can’t answer. I can’t do anything but gasp.

He’s there in seconds, dropping beside me. “Hey, hey—look at me.” His hands catch my face, forcing my gaze up. The room keeps spinning, but his voice stays anchored. “Breathe with me. Come on, Sparrow. In—out. Follow me.”

I try. Fail. Try again. The air burns on the way in. I choke on it on the way out. Liam’s voice joins Max’s, low and steady from behind me. The warmth of his palm lands between my shoulder blades. “You’re safe. She’s gone. It’s over.”

It isn’t, but hearing it helps. A little.

“Match me,” Max murmurs. He exaggerates the breath, slow in, slower out, until mine starts to sync with his. My fingers claw at his sleeve.

Liam keeps the circles on my back, quiet, patient. “You’re here,” he says. “With us.”

The world begins to widen again. My lungs remember how. I collapse against Max’s shoulder, shaking, wet-eyed, furious at myself for it.