Page 119 of Chasing Ruin
A low, restless heat stirs in my chest, crawling outward in slow, unhelpful waves.
Maybe I’m just cranky. I did just wake up.
But this tight, buzzing unease under my skin isn’t new. It’s been growing. Stretching. Widening and filling up space inside me with every passing day. With every moment spent wondering if this is it. If I’m running out of time without even knowing it. If the day I’ve lived is my last.
I push off the couch before I can stop myself. The sudden movement makes my head spin for a second, but it’s nothing compared to the sharp, hollow drop in my chest when I step away from it—away from him.
His scent that lingered on the duvet I’d been leaning against. Clean. Warm. Infuriatingly comforting.
The second it’s gone, I feel it. The absence.
God, what is wrong with me?
“I don’t like this,” I mutter, dragging a hand through my hair as I start pacing his office. “I don’t like any of this. The waiting. Thenot knowing. The whole—living in fear and imprisoning myself in these club walls.”
“Charlotte—”
“No,” I cut him off, shaking my head. “No! I want this done. We just keep waiting and waiting. And God knows what they’re doing while we’re frickin’ waiting.”
Ruin watches me quietly from behind his desk. Too quiet. Too composed. It makes something in me itch. But there’s a flicker behind his eyes. It’s telling me he’s keeping something from me.
“What?” I whisper shakily. “Did something happen?”
Silence.
“We did learn something today,” he says finally, voice steady.
I freeze.
Something about the way he says it—careful, measured—makes my stomach twist.
“What?” I ask, even though I’m not sure I want to hear the answer.
He exhales, slow. “One of the Nomads’ Ol’ Ladies and a club princess. They’re missing.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. My breath stutters, chest tightening so fast it almost hurts. “Oh shit,” I breathe out, softer this time. “Missing as in—”
“Taken,” he says.
My vision blurs for a second, the room tilting slightly as something cold and suffocating creeps up my spine. “Oh God…” I shake my head, backing up a step. “They’re coming, aren’t they? We’re next? They—”
“Hey. Hey, hey, listen to me,” he says urgently, already moving. “That’s why we’re locking things down tighter, okay?”
He rounds the desk slowly, like he’s approaching something fragile. Something unpredictable. “We’ve increased our patrols. Both in numbers and frequency. We have it under control, Charlotte. I just need you to stay inside the clubhouse unless—”
“Unless what?” I snap, the words cracking out of me sharper than I intend.
His jaw tightens, but his tone doesn’t change—still annoyingly calm. “Unless you’re with me. Or Ryder. Or Wolf.”
Of course. A bitter laugh escapes me before I can stop it. “Perfect,” I mutter, flailing my arms. “I should just stay here.Stay hidden. All while they keep taking more women. And we sit here on our asses and wait for them to attack us.”
The second the words leave my mouth, I see it.
His eyes darken for half a second before he reins it in, composure snapping back into place like armor. “Defense, Charlotte,” he says quietly, taking another step closer. “We’re playing defense.”
“But why not go on offense instead? Get this done and over with?” I demand, my voice rising. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks a lot like you don’t care how many other women get hurt unless it’s me.”
His brows pull together, something pained flashing across his face. “We care. Christ! We do. But we also want to keep you alive.”
