Page 35 of Vargan

The deputy approaches cautiously, eyeing me with obvious distaste. "That true, orc?"

I say nothing, knowing just by his disgusted tone when he called me 'orc', anything I say will be twisted against me.

"It wasn't unprovoked," Savvy interjects, stepping forward. "They were threatening my brother."

"She's lying to protect him," Victor says smoothly. "They've been... involved."

The deputy looks between us, clearly uncertain. His partner, a younger man with nervous eyes, has his hand resting on his gun.

"I'm going to need you to put your hands behind your back," the first deputy says to me. "We'll sort this out at the station."

I could fight this. It would take nothing for me to overpower them both, make a run for my bike, and head for the border. But one look at Savvy's pleading eyes has me complying. I turn, wrists extended behind me, while they fumble with cuffs too small for my forearms before deciding on zip ties.

"You're under arrest for assault," the deputy recites. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law..."

As they continue reading my rights, my eyes find Savvy's. There are tears tracking down her cheeks now, her hand over her mouth to stifle a sob. Willie stands beside her, shoulders shaking with the effort not to cry.

"It's going to be okay," I tell them, though I know it's a lie.

The deputies lead me outside to the waiting SUV. The last thing I see before they push me into the back seat is Savvy, arms around Willie, watching me go with devastation written across her face.

The door slams shut, sealing me in darkness broken only by the flashing lights reflecting off the diner windows. Through the glass, I can see Victor approaching Savvy, mouth moving in what I'm sure are threats disguised as condolences.

As the cruiser pulls away from the diner, I realize my phone is still sitting on my motorcycle—my only connection to Hammer and the club, my only chance at escape. And my time is running out. Twenty-four hours, Hammer had said. Maybe less.

The club will call, and I won't answer. The window will open, and I won't be there. And Savvy and Willie will be left to face Victor's wrath alone.

The cruiser takes me further away from freedom, and all I can think is how I've failed the only humans who ever saw me as anything more than a monster.

Chapter Ten

Savvy

I've never noticed how different the world looks when everything I thought I wanted turns to ash.

The diner is eerily quiet. No customers remain after Vargan's arrest—everyone scrambled out as soon as the cruiser pulled away, whispering behind their hands.

I stand frozen behind the counter, hands gripping the edge to keep from collapsing. My knuckles have gone white, and I can feel a slight tremor working through my arms. Willie sits in a booth, head in his hands. I should comfort him. Should say something—anything—but my throat has closed, choked with unshed tears.

"Well," Victor says into the silence, straightening his tie with manicured hands, "that was unfortunate. But necessary."

The smug satisfaction in his voice makes bile rise in my throat. This is what he wanted all along—to corner me when I had no leverage left.

"Get out," I manage, the words scraping past my constricted throat.

He smiles, the expression never reaching his cold eyes. "I'll give you some time to consider your position, Ms. Greene. But know that my offer stands—for now. I can be reached at my office."

He nods to Royce, who's still massaging his throat, glaring at me. They leave together, the door creaking in their wake, a sound so at odds with the devastation they've left behind that I want to rip it fron it’s hinges.

As soon as they're gone, Willie looks up at me, face streaked with tears. "We have to help him."

"I know," I whisper, but how? What can I possibly do against the machinery of a system that's been designed to crush people like Vargan? People like me?

Helen emerges from the kitchen, where she's been watching silently. "Go," she says, her voice uncharacteristically gentle. "I'll close up."

"No," I say, moving around the counter to assess the damage. In a week, my diner has been wrecked twice by the same three men. "I'll help clean up."

It's easier to focus on something tangible, something I can fix with my hands. My mind can't process what just happened, can't accept that Vargan is gone.

---