Page 29 of Masked Mayhem

“He didn’t make the cut,” Lux replies casually as he pushes deeper into my personal space. “Masked Mayhem had to make examples of those who don't know how to act in my fucking club with my girls.”

I recoil, a wave of rage and betrayal crashing over me. “What do you mean?”

“Red and 13 acted on the orders. You should ask them,” he says nonchalantly, brandishing his power, this time sniffing a line off my other ass cheek while my anger continues to flare. " 13 snapped his neck, and Red slit his throat."

I'm fucking livid but also heartbroken knowing Johnny had been caught in the crossfire of their brutal world. I needed to find them to figure things out, and as I rushed to get dressed before someone walked in and thought the worst, I swung open the door, almost smacking into Boston before storming down the hall, chaos brewing inside me.

“Hold on—” Boston calls as I push past her and Donovan, pain and fear clawing at my throat.

I burst outside, the sun long gone beneath the horizon, frantically searching for Cade and Carter amidst the crowd. The tension heightens; the full moon hangs low, and stars twinkle overhead as I finally spot them, standing in a circle watching a fight between some of the MM members. Ignoring Havoc and Crow calling my name, I charge toward Red and 13, my fists clenching in preparation.

Wearing his mask, Red opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, I strike him hard in the face, feeling the satisfying crunch of impact echo through the air. He staggers back, blood seeping from his nose and running down the front of his white shirt, but I don't stop there; I swing at 13, connecting with his jaw and cracking his mask with my first punch.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” 13 shouts, while Red takes my punches without defending himself, knowing his ass deserves every single one.

“Are you fucking done?” Red snaps, taking his shirt off to use it to hold his bleeding nose, trying to distract me with his tattoos and muscles, but it doesn't work, and I'm far from fucking finished.

“How could you do this?” I scream, feeling the adrenaline course through me as rage pours from my heart.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Red challenges, stepping closer as if trying to provoke me further. "You broke my fucking nose, Whitney!"

“You’re lucky that’s all I fucking broke, Red! How could you betray Johnny like that?”

With that, I can’t bear to wait for their answers any longer. I know why they did it—fear, blind ambition—but that doesn't excuse their actions. Betrayal stings like a fresh wound, and I need to escape their presence, even with a stalker on the loose.

I shove my way past the two of them, heart racing, fists still clenched. I can feel their glares boring into my back like hot needles, but I don’t care. My mind races as I push through the crowd, heart pounding in my ears. I need to get as far away from them as possible—their bloodied faces, their excuses, their justifications. They think they’re untouchable, that their actions have no consequences, but I know better. Johnny deserved better.

The cool night air embraces me like a familiar friend, but it does little to soothe the tempest building inside. The shrill sounds of the brawl behind me fade away as I wander into the empty alley beside the club. Leaning against the cold brick wall, I close my eyes, taking deep, steadying breaths. I can hear the distant thump of bass from the club, the party moving forward without me, and it makes my fucking blood boil.

Why did it have to be Johnny? Maybe it was naïve of me to think that they were somehow different, that loyalty meant more than power and greed. The loss still stings, the memory of his goofy smile playing in my mind like a haunting melody. I thought things could be better, but as I wipe away the angry tears forming at the corners of my eyes, I realize that nothing has changed. The world of Masked Mayhem is ruthless; it’s a dog-eat-dog existence, and even love gets tossed aside when you’re looking out for number one.

With my pulse still racing, I reach for my phone, my finger hovering over the contact. I want to call Boston, but the insurmountable weight of my emotions keeps my hand trembling. Instead, I remember that she’s already looking for me, trying to catch up. I’ve been avoiding her, disappearing into this dark corner of the alley because I’m not ready to face her yet—not everything I want to say is safe. Not when seeing her might break me further.

I wander deeper into the darkness of the alley, searching for solace amidst the shadows until I hear footsteps echoing faintly behind me. I whirl around, thoughts racing, brows furrowed. My heart skips a beat.

Boston emerges from the end of the alley, panting slightly, but her features are set in a determined look. "I knew you’d come here."

“Why?” I retort, trying to maintain the edge in my voice, but it falters. “Why would you even want to talk to me? Didn’t you hear what they did to Johnny?”

I know I shouldn’t lash out at her, but the anger is still simmering just beneath the surface. Her face falls; she looks as if I slapped her.

“Of course I did, Whitney. I heard about it all, and it breaks my heart. But we need to stick together now more than ever. What we’re up against is bigger than our personal issues; we can’t keep fighting each other.”

“Sticking together?” My tone is bitter as I step closer, anger and hurt flooding my system. “You were so deep in this world you didn’t even notice what was happening around you. You were too busy falling into Lux’s trap, oblivious to what that meant for the rest of us. We’re just pawns in their game, Boston!”

Taking a deep breath, she steps toward me, concern etching lines on her face. “I won’t pretend like I’ve made the right choices, but shutting me out isn’t going to solve anything. You need me right now.”

I shake my head, ripping my gaze away from her pleading blue eyes. “Do I? I don’t need anyone right now, especially not someone wrapped up in all this chaos. I just want to protect what’s left of our lives, and I can’t do that if I’m caught up in this mess.”

“Look, I know you’re hurting. I know Johnny was like a brother to you. But I came to find you, didn’t I? I don’t care how deep into this world we are; I care about you. Whatever happens next, you don’t have to do it alone.”

The warmth in her voice penetrates through my wall of anger. I close my eyes, battling the bittersweet tension rising within. “You shouldn’t have to worry about me. I understand that you’re going through things too, but I can’t carry your burdens.”

Before she can reply, I hear a commotion from the club, a mix of laughter and shouting abruptly cut short. My instincts kick in as dread washes over me. There's something off.

“Did you hear that?” I whisper urgently, glancing back toward the entrance to the alley.

Boston straightens, anxiety creeping into her voice. “Yeah, it sounds bad.”

---