Page 52 of Lords of Ruin: Cherished

“Conner—” she starts, but he cuts her off with a growl.

“Car. Now. Before they spin the block.” His grip tightens around her wrist as he drags her toward the curb, Brooke and I scrambling to keep up.

My pulse pounds as I fall into step beside them, my mind racing. “Jasmine,” I hiss, barely able to keep my voice steady. “What the hell was that?”

Jasmine doesn’t answer.

Brooke sighs, the sound heavy as she slides into the back of the police car. “That’s her punishment for being a snitch.”

The words hit me like a slap, leaving my skin ice-cold, because Jasmine is a lot of things but a snitch was never one of them. I hesitate before climbing in after her, my stomach knotting.

Jasmine doesn’t look at me. Doesn’t look at any of us. She just buries her face in her hands as Conner peels out, tires screeching against the pavement, the city swallowing us whole.

16

CAST

The whiskey burns my throat as I lean back on the leather couch, watching Damien pace like a caged animal. He’s been ranting about Willow and Vincent for twenty minutes. At breakfast, Willow dropped a bomb—she misses Vincent and wants us to fix whatever is keeping him away.

I snorted and said no. Damien said yes. Now we’re both on the hook for finding Vincent.

“You’re wearing a path in my rug,” I remark, setting my glass down.

Damien stops mid-stride, turning to me. “Are you even listening? Vincent was seen at Rosemary’s. He’s hiding out.”

“I heard you the first time.” I gesture to the armchair. “Sit down before you give yourself a stroke.”

He drops into the chair, fingers drumming against the armrest. “How many chances are you going to give him? At what point do we accept that Vincent can’t be trusted? How do we tell Willow he’s not the same man she loves?”

Willow has been out of the hospital for two months, and Vincent has been a ghost since I punched him in the cafeteria. She misses him, but he almost ruined us. Almost took her away because he’s consumed by one thing—Willow.

“You think it’s that simple?” I ask.

“I think it’s simpler than waiting for the knife he’ll put in our backs.” Damien leans forward. “Vincent isn’t family. Family wouldn’t disappear. Family wouldn’t steal the girl you love.”

I pick up my glass, swirling the whiskey. “And yet he was there when you couldn’t afford to eat. When Rosemary died. He took a bullet for Willow. He brought her into our lives.”

“Past loyalty doesn’t excuse present betrayal.”

“No,” I say quietly. “It doesn’t.”

Damien’s expression softens slightly. “I know you see something in him worth saving. You always have. But this time is different. He bought a gun two days ago. When have you ever known Vincent to carry a weapon?”

I lean forward. “And what would you have me do? Order a hit on a man we both call brother?”

“If necessary.”

“That’s cold. Even for you.”

Damien stands. “I’ve already made arrangements.”

My blood runs cold. “What arrangements?”

"Insurance. In case your sentimentality gets the better of your judgment. Marcos is watching him. One wrong move, and Vincent disappears. Permanently."

I push off the couch. "You went behindmy back?"

"I protected our interests, like I always do."

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