Page 57 of Clubs

But my muscles had just relaxed when a knock sounded at the door. No, knock wasn’t the word. It was one of those bam—bam—bam sounds. Like a cop pounding on a door to raid for drugs. I was half convinced that was the case here until I stood, and that bam—bam—bam sounded again. Only then did I realize it was coming from the back door.

The door that couldn’t be seen from the road.

Half-asleep, groggy, I stumbled that way. When I opened the door, however, I was wide awake.

And all I could say was, “Shit.”

Emory stood on the other side. Blood splattered the entirety of his face, his chest. His hands were swollen, knuckles bloody. Looked like he’d taken a punch or two, judging by the busted lip and the slice on his forehead a quarter of an inch long. “We have a problem.”

“No shit, fuckhead.” I gestured over him. “That’s where you went? You thought you could solve this problem for her. So you fought her pimp. Jesus Christ, how much worse is this gonna get? Is he gonna show here looking for her? Or are you gonna get framed for murder next?”

Scratching his head, Emory pressed his lips together. “No, probably not. But what do you know about covering one up?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

BROOKE

The world was still spinning when I woke up. My stomach didn’t hurt so bad, probably because there was nothing left in it.

Not my proudest moment. Eyes fluttering open, I prayed my mistake wouldn’t lead me to anything too shameful long term.

Although I didn’t remember winding up in Declan’s bed, the intricate painting of a wolf in a snow covered forest that hung on the wall told me that was exactly where I was. Which was better than a stranger’s bed. So, I couldn’t complain. Apparently, I hadn’t said anything that had sent him running. A good sign, in my book. Except, when I rolled over, expecting to see his face—

I jolted backward, taking far too long to realize who I was looking at.

Ria. Ria with two black eyes, a busted lip, a cut on her cheek, another on her forehead, and several lining her jaw. And yet, she smiled at me.

“Morning, sissy.”

Jaw falling open, I reached out to touch her. As if to tether myself to reality, to confirm that I wasn’t dreaming.

She winced when my finger made contact with a bruise on her cheek, but she still managed to smile. “It looks worse than it is.”

I highly fucking doubted that. “What happened?”

Wetting her lips, she raised a shoulder. “It doesn’t matter.”

I sat forward. “Like hell it doesn’t matter. What the fuck happened? Was it that asshole who said he’d take care of Davey for you? It was, wasn’t it? I knew it. I knew this was just gonna make things worse for you. God damn it. Fuck. Did you walk here? Did—”

“Declan picked me up.” Finding my fingers, she twined them between hers. “It doesn’t matter right now. None of that shit matters. I’m so, so sorry—”

“Who was it?” Straightening, I looked down to check to see if I needed clothes. Thankfully, I was wearing Declan’s. Which was good. They were quite comfy, and comfy was good when I needed to fight somebody. And that was exactly what I planned to do. Whoever did this to my little sister was not going to live long enough to fucking regret it. “You tell me right now, or I’m going to Davey’s. And I’m going to—”

“Brooke, please.” Carefully, she pulled me back to the bed. “I know you’re upset. I’m not happy either. But it doesn’t matter. I’m leaving.”

Breath stopping in my chest, I squinted over her a moment longer. “What do you mean ‘you’re leaving?’”

“I mean, I’m done.” A swallow bobbed her throat. “Last night was bad. It was really bad. And this was it. He let me go. He said he didn’t want anything to do with me anymore. No business, no drugs, no nothing. You were right about that other guy. It’d turn out the same way. That’s how this life works. That’s the cycle. And you broke it.” Another smile, almost impossible to decipher beneath all that swelling. “You broke the cycle we were born into, and I’m gonna break it too. I don’t want to end up dead. I don’t want to end up in debt to somebody like that again.

“I’m gonna get clean. And I’ll pay you back every cent you’ve ever given me. Once I get my shit together, anyway, but I’m just so sorry. I’m so sorry about everything I said yesterday. I was just mad.” Tears gathered in her eyes, beading down the edges and onto her cheeks. “That wasn’t fair. That was mean. I was a cunt to you for no reason. You have every right to be mad. I’m ruining my life. I’m ruining yours, ruining Declan’s, and neither of you deserve this. I don’t deserve this.

“And I don’t want to end up here again. I don’t want to fight with you like that again. I don’t wanna hurt you, and I don’t want you to hurt me, and I just want to fix it. I’m going to fix it. Turn my life around, I mean. Maybe I’ll go to college, like you did. I don’t know. But I know that getting high isn’t helping anyone. It’s making me miserable, it’s making you miserable, and… And could you help me call rehabs today?”

That was the first time she had asked that.

She had never gone to rehab on her own accord. Once, when she was a minor, she’d been forced into one. She got into trouble with the law, and instead of putting her in jail, they sent her to rehab. It didn’t do the job then. But she didn’t want it done. She had nothing to look forward to. She had no hope. Getting sober was the last thing she wanted.

Probably because it was so bad for us growing up, it felt like it would never end. And when she was in that rehab, I was still in college. Life was just as bad in a different way. I was no longer surrounded by addiction and violence, not outside of Ria, but I was struggling to make ends meet, struggling to make it through the day.

---