Page 15 of Chasing Ruin
SIX
Ruin
TWO YEARS LATER
I look over beside me, Sarah draped under her sheets. She chooses not to come to the clubhouse. I can understand why. But the fact that my being a brother is a constant point of contention with her is fucking exhausting.
Which is why we’ve been on an on-and-off release cycle for the past year.
I met her again by accident less than a year ago.
When we got to talking, she said she’d give me another chance. But there was no part of me that was even remotely interested. I was naturally apprehensive—not wanting an immature girl who ran out on me without letting me explain, and then proceeded to ghost me.
It wasn’t worth the trouble for me to continue down that avenue.
But I hadn’t even been casually dating since her. Not just because of the circumstances around Charlotte’s disappearance. Or because Wolf and I were extremely busy changing the club’s bylaws rapidly. Effectively building a safer and better club.
But because—unlike many of my brothers—I was monogamous. And I had no interest putting myself out therewhen imbalanced was how I felt every single day. I’d never even gotten involved with any of the club girls,ever.
Something my father had ingrained in me since I learned how to jack off.
So when Sarah showed up, dressed as a convenient arrangement, I let it happen. But the woman still makes a face every time I mention the club.
I’ve tried. I’ve explained, had even gotten her to come to the club party once. But she kept eyeing the club girls with an unreasonable glare. I’ve told her I don’t fuck them, never have. But she doesn’t believe me.
Keeping Sarah in my life is becoming more and more difficult. She was supposed to be easy pussy, dammit. But she picks fights, ends whatever half-thing we’ve got going on, and apologizes in that sweet little way. Then we get a couple weeks of bliss before the damn cycle starts again.
Weirdly enough her fights coincide with me going away on club business. Sometimes I wonder if it’s because she knows I’m lying through my teeth.
It isn’t club business that takes me out of town every three or so weeks. It’s… her.
Charlotte Hayes.
She changed her last name from Wentley to Hayes, two months after leaving us. Wolf lost his shit when he found out. I don’t think that hurt has gone away. That he no longer shares a last name with his sister.
It was also about the same time she joined the Bachelor of Social Work program. And that’s how we learned that she’d been planning this all along.
Ryder was even able to grab her SAT scores that she’d tested for, a yearaftershe graduated high school. Only to shock us all with the number.
1580.
Jesus Christ.
No wonder she was a sought-after educator for young teens. Something we were stupidly blind to.
She didn’t go far, though. Settling in Craven Ridge, two towns over. Probably because she thought no one cared to follow her. Wolf had tried, initially. As did I. To get her to talk. Maybe even try to fix things.
She never did talk with us. The first four months after she was gone were an awful—yet deserved—series of closed doors, blocked numbers, and a whole bunch of silence.
When Mama found out what Wolf and I were up to, she gave us a good bump to head with a skillet. She ordered us to stop harassing her. To give her time to heal. So we did, or at least we tried.
Charlotte’s absence was so much louder than the echoes of her laughter in the clubhouse that I broke my promise to Mama. But only partially. She never told us we couldn’t see Charlotte at all. If she doesn’t know I’m there, then I ain’t harassing her.
So I took the liberty of that, which began the strangest year and a half of my life. Chasing the girl who once chased me. Watching her from afar as I witnessed her become her true self.
She always introduced herself as Charlotte now. Never Charlie. And I know why.
I swallow hard, glancing at Sarah before quietly getting out of her bed. I can’t stay here when my mind is somewhere else—onsomeoneelse.
