Page 55 of Clubs

“God damn it, Ria,” I snapped, grabbing my keys off the wall. ‘Course, I’d have to run to Brooke’s and grab her car, because even if Ria was stable enough to hold herself up on the back of my bike, that seat was reserved for Brooke. “Right now. Tell me where you...” I stopped. Blinking hard, the keys jingled as I dropped my hand to my side. “Wait. Why can’t you teleport?”

Another difficult to describe, breathy sound. “I don’t want to talk to about this, Declan.”

“Fine. Don’t talk to me about it. But I’m coming to get you from wherever the hell you are, and you’re gonna explain it to Brooke in the morning. Alright?”

“She probably doesn’t want to talk to me anyway,” she murmured, her voice almost undetectable. “I’ll just—I can—”

“You’ll just tell me where the fuck you are, and I’ll come and bring you back here.”

A long moment of silence. Eventually, she broke it with, “You know the place. You helped Brooke trash it this afternoon.”

* * *

I broke a thousand laws on my way there. Amazingly, I didn’t get pulled over. Good thing, too, all things considered.

I wished I could say I was even the slightest bit surprised when I finally found Ria. She was seated on the main road that bordered the long driveway to Davey’s home. Practically curled in a ball, Ria stared at the ground. When I pulled up beside her, she didn’t even raise her gaze to look at me. The side of her head rested against a tree.

When I called for her out the window, she didn’t respond. Didn’t even budge. And for a moment, I feared that Brooke was right. That now would be the time that she buried her little sister.

Practically sprinting from the car, I left the door open. I called her name several times, none of which she answered to. I dropped to my knees beside her, shaking her shoulder, and her eyes finally opened.

Or at least, as much as they could through the swelling.

Describing her as beaten felt like an understatement.

This… The way she looked, it was near death. I barely recognized her. If not for the smell, the smell of her blood, I probably wouldn’t have. Another scent wafted from her that tainted her own. A smell that I knew well and had no desire to smell from my girlfriend’s little sister. I’d smelled it on Brooke this afternoon though, right before she teleported home. The smell of sex. Which I smelled often enough on Ria, but it was different this time. Tainted with blood.

Both eyes nearly swollen shut, lips busted and purple, four times their usual thickness, she struggled out, “You didn’t have to come.”

And now, I understood.

Now I understood why Brooke bent over backwards for this little shit. Despite her faults, no matter how many of them, she looked so innocent. So fragile.

She was. That’s how she ended up in these situations. She fucked up, and she got fucked over, a thousand times. Who else would be there for her? If not Brooke, if not me, who would be here right now? Another pimp? One who would do the exact same, if not worse, to her?

“Davey? Is that who did this?” I glanced down the driveway. “How many of them are up there? Just him? Or—”

“Just take me home.” Lips quivering, she pulled in a deep breath to retain her composure. “Please. Please, just take me home.”

I didn’t want to. I wanted to do the very thing that started this mess. Kill the motherfucker who thought it was okay to treat women like this. To treat anyone like this. To take advantage of the people who were struggling and use them as tools for personal gain. For money, for drugs, for whatever it was that kept him in this business.

But it wasn’t my place. Coming here, helping Ria, that was to help Brooke. I wouldn’t regret that. Making the situation worse? Being the reason this happened to her again? Or the reason something even worse happened?

I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. So, with a grunt of annoyance, I held her upper arm tighter. “Can you walk?”

“Probably not.” Ria’s voice was riddled with shame. “But I can try.”

Clenching my teeth, I shook my head. Without giving her another option, I hoisted her into my arms. Certainly felt like a big brother then. Especially because, as I walked back to the car, her head collapsed to the side. Looking down at her was like looking down at an orphaned child. Supposed that was what she was.

When that big brother instinct kicked in, all I could think was, Get out of this life before it kills you, you dumb little shit.

As I got her into the back seat, lying with her head propped against the window, the overhead light shone on her thighs. Never paid much attention to anyone’s thighs aside from Brooke’s, especially not her little sister’s, but I was already in notice any and everything mode in case I had to rush her to the hospital. And it was hard to miss.

Her fishnets were torn. Not a spot or tow, but just a few inches above her knees all the way up to her… Well, I stopped looking north before I could confirm any more than that.

I wouldn’t dare ask, but I had a theory about that scent of blood mixed with sex now.

She was too out of it to realize that I had noticed. Too out of it to adjust her clothes so I couldn’t see any more of it. But the fire that lit inside me was unlike anything I had ever felt. So much of me wanted to sprint back into that house and burn it to the ground. Maybe rip Davey’s throat out along the way. With my bare hands, with my teeth, I didn’t care.

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